Backpacking While Black

New York City, March 2006: Day 2, March 15, 2006, New York City, NY (Central Park, "The Lion King," Night flight to Paris)

This was my first vacation where I had nothing scheduled. Sure, I had things that I wanted to do, but I adopted Matthew’s relaxed attitude and went wherever my interest carried me. He and I were very different travelers until this trip. I like schedules, maps and timetables, but he doesn’t mind giving the map to someone else, waking up at noon and going wherever the best recommendation takes him. We mixed both our styles during the trip; some days seamlessly, other days we got on each other’s nerves. I eventually became the map/timetable reader, travel document holder and photographer. He took on the role of finding something interesting to do that day and also to keep me from looking too much like a tourist. I learned a lot from him this trip with the exception of over packing, but hopefully I’ll have my lesson learned by the next trip.

We got up around 11 a.m. groggy from the activities of only a few hours prior and from the movements of our roommates. It started with the couple from Iowa getting ready for their day’s activities and soon included one of the students from Arkansas taking phone calls from friends he was to meet later in the day. I was a little annoyed, but glad to be up on the second day of my vacation.

Mark and Ethan, the guys from Arkansas, talked about this little grocery store that offered a bagel sandwich and a large cup of coffee for only $4. I was intrigued at this deal seeing that I was so used to paying $6 to $8 for a coffee and a bagel sandwich at my former employer’s cafeteria. I asked if Matthew and I could join them for breakfast and they agreed. The store was across the street from the hotel so we braved the winter temperature dressed in hoodies and jeans. The store was a narrow space packed to the ceiling with everything you’d find in a larger supermarket including a butcher shop and grill in the rear of the store. I ordered a bagel with bacon, scrambled eggs and cheese, and a large coffee. Within minutes I had my order in hand including my coffee mixed. I kindly handed over my $4 and braced myself for what such an inexpensive breakfast was going to get me. When we got back to the hotel and unwrapped the food, I was shocked at how much I got for so little spent. The bagel wasn’t toasted so it gave the sandwich a better consistency. The coffee was as good as anything I would get in a Starbucks or Caribou Coffee. I was completely satisfied and happy about my “smart” buy, but thankful to Mark and Ethan for their recommendation.

This was the day we left for Paris. Our plane was scheduled to leave Newark for Paris at 9:50 p.m. later that evening, plus we had tickets to see a 2 p.m. matinee of the “Lion King” at the New Amsterdam Theatre. We knew we wouldn’t have time to do anything after seeing the play knowing that we had to take the train back to the Newark from Manhattan, so with only about two hours before the play, we decided to tour Central Park. This required a trip on the famed or infamous NYC Subway, depending on your point of view. Some people don’t like the Subway because of the musty condition and crowds of people trying to squeeze onto a train during rush hour, but I love the thing. Growing up in Atlanta where the mass transit system is very limited, I formed an instant appreciation for the NYC Subway. It goes mostly everywhere within the NYC metropolitan region and is a cheap and sometimes faster alternative to a taxi. It’s definitely an alternative to walking the over 20 blocks it took for us to get the edge of Central Park.

After buying MetroPasses (subway admission passes) we took the C train from Penn. Station to 59^th St.-Columbus Circle. Riding on the subway always interests me. Some call the subway the great common denominator. Everyone rides it. I saw what seemed to be executives sitting next bag ladies, immigrants sitting next to tourists, housewives sitting next to students. You could meet an interesting cross section of people on a major mass transit system. The closer we got to 59^th St. more executives boarded the train and I wondered why. We got off at our stop and my question was immediately answered. At the exit to the station stood the impressive twin towers of the Time Warner Center, home to media conglomerate Time Warner, parent company to CNN, Warner Bros. Studios and a host of other mass communication-related companies. The glass paneled building reflected the clear sky and seemed to almost blend in. It was a beautiful example of a big city skyscraper.

The Time Warner Center is across the street from the southwestern most entrance to Central Park, one of the world’s largest municipal parks and probably the most famous. We were expecting throngs of people jogging, walking their dogs and simply using the park, but at 12 p.m. on a Wednesday in March our expectations were set a little too high. There were some people in the park, but not as many as how it seems in the movies. We walked along paths and up various hills and boulders in search of something besides paths, hills and boulders. We found something of interest when we came over one ridge to discover the Trump Ice Rink. Unknown to each other, Matthew and I were both familiar with this ice rink from the movie “Serendipity.” He asked me if I knew what movie this rink was in and when I answered he was a little taken aback. “We spend too much time together,” he said laughing. I guess great minds think alike.

One word of advice while visiting NYC in March, DON’T WEAR JUST A T-SHIRT WITH A PULLOVER. My jeans kept my legs warm, but the moist winter wind was going straight through my pullover sweater and t-shirt. It was warmer when we went out for breakfast earlier that day, but the more time I spent outside the more I experienced the day’s true temperature including wind chill. To get myself warm, I walked briskly on the paths and tried to stay in the sunlight, but being in Central Park among trees and going under overpasses wasn’t helping.

We passed the Balto statue, centerpiece to the movie by the same name about the sled dog team who delivered anti-toxin to a flu stricken Nome, AK in the winter of 1925, and went down a few steps to the Bethesda Fountain and Terrace. I knew about this fountain and terrace from various movies, most recently the ending scene in “Angels in America.” Ironically, a movie production was in progress near the fountain, but we didn’t stick around to be extras. Upon our exit, we bumped into two missionaries visiting NYC from of all places…Valdosta, GA. We talked for a few minutes about our recent travels and about missionary work in NYC. We ended up praying for one another in the middle of the park. I admired their courage to help spread the gospel especially in a place like NYC. I hoped to do the same some day soon, not just in NYC, but all over the world. I hoped that they remained in good spirits and saved a number of souls on their trip. God bless them!

After we said our goodbyes to the missionaries, we saw that we were short on time in order to get to the 2 p.m. showing of the “Lion King.” We were both tired and not in the mood to run to the nearest station, but we sucked it up and trotted to the 72^nd St. station. After a short train ride, we were greeted at the New Amsterdam Theatre by an extremely long line of eager theatre patrons. I wasn’t too happy standing in the wind, but I was on line to see the “Lion King,” said to be one of the best productions on Broadway…so I thought. Our seats were definitely worth the $40 we paid being in the “nosebleed” section in the rear balcony, but they were still good seats. I was eager to see this production of one of my favorite movies, but by the end of the production, I still liked the movie more. Although the visuals, costumes, music and singers were good, the production was line for line from the movie. It didn’t have the same impact as the movie, but maybe it was an off day for the cast. Overall, I liked the production and recommend it to friends, but I wouldn’t see it again.

We had four hours before our plane left for Paris and we still had a 30-minute train ride back to Newark Airport, so I was getting a little frantic. Matthew almost had to physically stop me from running back to the hotel, but when he explained that we would make it to the airport with almost two hours to spare, I slowed down. We got back to the Chelsea Star Hotel, packed our things, checked out and boarded the train to Newark Airport.

My excitement started to build as the train pulled into the Newark Airport station. I couldn’t stop smiling as we got closer to Paris with ever step, monorail ride, ticket counter and security screening. Matthew was right; we did make it to the gate with a little less than two hours to spare. I passed the time reading, talking on my cellphone to my grandmother in New Rochelle, NY and gazing at the hulking 747-400 aircraft waiting for us at the end of the jetway. This was my first time on a 747-400, the same type of aircraft as Air Force One. I dreamed about the spacious interior and having a drink in the upper lounge, but as usual my dreams faced a bitter reality. Just because a plane is the biggest in the world doesn’t mean you get the most space, airline just get more space to cram in more seats. Air India, our airline and the national airline of India, filled every available space with a seat which wasn’t good for Matthew who’s 6’ 4” tall. Luckily, the flight was no where near full so I was able to get an entire three seat row to myself and Matthew got a seat with ample leg room.

Strapped in and hydrated with the initial serving of orange juice and water, we pulled out of the gate and began our taxi to the runway. I get really excited during take offs because I absolutely love them, plus I was taking off to go to Paris – what a combination. After a few minutes, we reached our takeoff position at the beginning of the runway. The interior of the plane was slightly noisy with the obvious chatter of the passengers and the sound of engines using little power to taxi, but the sound became a deafening roar as all four engines came up full power, hurtling us down the runway. I would’ve loved to put up my arms as if I was in a roller coaster, but I wanted to save myself the embarrassment. The plane shook as we reached takeoff speed and I expected the shaking to stop as we left the ground, but it didn’t. The first 30 minutes of the flight was probably the worst I’ve ever experienced on an airplane. There must’ve been a great deal of turbulence because we shook and dropped for longer than I care to remember. My knuckles were white from gripping the armrests. At one point I saw Matthew pullout the safety guide. I think he was looking for a parachute.

Thirty minutes passed and the shaking and dropping subsided to a slight shimmy now and again. I started to relax, but was still a little anxious, that’s until my flight attendant brought me two mini rum bottles and some Coca-Cola. I double fisted the drinks to slow down my pounding heart and soon found myself with a slight buzz, a little more relaxed and with the dawning feeling that in six hours we would touch down in Paris, France. The in-flight service was probably the best part of the flight, well for me at least. My flight attendant was extremely nice and was very attentive to me and the other passengers in his section. Matthew’s attendant was the complete opposite though the service was fast enough where her attitude didn’t warrant Matthew to lock her in a lavatory.

I for one love Indian food, but was weary about trying the airline food version. Not that I’ve had any bad experiences with airline food, but when you are presented with the menu description of “roast leg of lamb with red wine and mushroom sauce, parsley potatoes and sautéed vegetables” you expect that. I was presented with dry slivers of lamb with a sauce that didn’t taste anything near red wine or even mushrooms. The potatoes and vegetables were okay, but I was thankful for the rather large dinner roll. There weren’t any options to eat at the terminal in Newark, so this was my only meal besides the bagel breakfast from earlier in the day. I ate for necessity alone.

Still buzzed from my two rum and Cokes, satisfied from the lamb and with a darkened cabin, I positioned myself to spread out on my makeshift bed of three airline seats, pillows and blankets. I started reading “Kitchen Confidential” by Anthony Bourdain, but the words soon turned blurry as the alcohol took its effect and I was soon asleep. I woke up briefly an hour later to find the rest of the cabin snuggled up in their seats including the flight attendants snoring in their bunks. I opened the shutter to see absolutely nothing, but just the blackness of a night flight over the Atlantic Ocean. I was glad to be heading towards Paris even if the flight started rather bumpy and the food was mediocre. I remember as a kid about being so fascinated with how fast time would pass when I slept. We still had five hours of flying before would touch down at Charles Du Gaulle Airport in Paris, so I closed the shutter and proceeded to speed up time.

posted by Dre' @ 3/15/2006 12:19:00 AM