These Vagabond Shoes

These vagabond shoes, are longing to stray.

So we arrived somewhere very different to Lambert’s Meadow. A complete contrast. A busy city, with constant traffic, and bipping hooters and the ever present noise of construction. A city, you might say, which never sleeps. A city which, let’s be frank, pongs a bit, though they don’t mention that in the songs.

The flight had been okay, I’d intended sleeping, but watched lots of films instead. The landing was of the kind which elicits a spontaneous round of applause from the passengers; which I’ve never understood; a smooth landing usually seems to generate no response at all; but if, for example, the plane thumps down and then immediately bounces high, the kind of thing which scares the living daylights out of this traveller at least, then the terrified passengers burst into an ovation the instant it turns out we aren’t all about to die. Thanks Mr Pilot for not f***ing up!

I’m not the most enthusiastic flier, can you tell?

Customs/immigration took a while. Would the equipment scan my finger-print through the bandaging? Yes it would, it turns out. The Air-train to Jamaica was fine. The subway from there was good too, but we got confused when we had to change trains. I got better with the underground, as time went on, but even on our last day was still making mistakes, I should have left that kind of things to Little S who seemed to be much more capable of interpreting the instructions his phone gave him.

We probably got out at the wrong station. We certainly ended up wandering around in what felt like circles. But we got there in the end. Actually, I loved the grid system and was much happier on foot, but I’m getting ahead of myself. Our Hotel was The Hotel @ Times Square, and, perhaps fortunately, wasn’t actually on Times Square, but was in Little Brazil, on West 46th Street between 5th and 6th Avenues. Pretty close to Times Square though, so we popped out for cheap pizza (And cheap food in New York seems to be as rare as hen’s teeth) and a bit of a gander at Times Square and it’s attendant crowds.

Times Square.
Times Square pano.

“It’s just a load of brightly lit, animated, advertising hoardings,” is the kind of belittling understatement B might have used at the time, but didn’t.

TBH in New York. If she can make it there….

I’ll leave it there I think, after that mammoth Lambert’s Meadow odyssey I think I’ll try to keep these New York State holiday posts as brief as I can, it might make the whole thing a little more manageable.

These Vagabond Shoes

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