My sister rented a car and drove down to Philadelphia to attend my Philadelphia Going-Away Party and help me move some things.
Many things were not ready to leave and a friend stayed until 3 AM helping pack things. After a full day of packing on Wednesday, we left Philadelphia at 4pm--my sister had hoped to make it in New York by 9AM.
My sister took a nap and I left at 8 for my New York Going-Away Party. Instead of using a map to find the proper subway route, I relied on my phone to give me transit directions. I read that it said to take the F train and to get off at the "Christopher Street" station (it probably didn't actually say this). I turned on the "Number One Party School" Episode of This American Life about Penn State. I'm glad I didn't go to that school like my parents encouraged me, listen to the episode to find out why.
I was listening for the "Christopher Street" Station. It never came. Pretty soon the trained looped back east and crossed into Brooklyn. I got off. There wasn't any other lines going to that station so I got back on a train headed east. I then hopped on a Manhattan-bound train at the next stop and got off at Fulton/Broadway-Nassau and got on the 3. Unfortunately, the 3 did not stop at Chistopher Street and I had to get off and get on a Brooklyn Bound 1 train at the 3's next stop.
I arrived at Fat Cat (Billiards) in West Village sometime around 9:30. My party was supposed to begin at 9pm and some people were already waiting for me there.
Fat Cat was a cool place, it's was the right atmosphere I was looking for. They have ping-pong, billiards, and board games. Live Jazz played the night we were there. PBRs were $3. We were able to get enough chairs together to match the size of our party, but it would have been better to reserve space ahead of time. I actually called a few nights before, but it was at 3am and they weren't taking reservations there.
Many things were not ready to leave and a friend stayed until 3 AM helping pack things. After a full day of packing on Wednesday, we left Philadelphia at 4pm--my sister had hoped to make it in New York by 9AM.
My sister took a nap and I left at 8 for my New York Going-Away Party. Instead of using a map to find the proper subway route, I relied on my phone to give me transit directions. I read that it said to take the F train and to get off at the "Christopher Street" station (it probably didn't actually say this). I turned on the "Number One Party School" Episode of This American Life about Penn State. I'm glad I didn't go to that school like my parents encouraged me, listen to the episode to find out why.
I was listening for the "Christopher Street" Station. It never came. Pretty soon the trained looped back east and crossed into Brooklyn. I got off. There wasn't any other lines going to that station so I got back on a train headed east. I then hopped on a Manhattan-bound train at the next stop and got off at Fulton/Broadway-Nassau and got on the 3. Unfortunately, the 3 did not stop at Chistopher Street and I had to get off and get on a Brooklyn Bound 1 train at the 3's next stop.
I arrived at Fat Cat (Billiards) in West Village sometime around 9:30. My party was supposed to begin at 9pm and some people were already waiting for me there.
Fat Cat was a cool place, it's was the right atmosphere I was looking for. They have ping-pong, billiards, and board games. Live Jazz played the night we were there. PBRs were $3. We were able to get enough chairs together to match the size of our party, but it would have been better to reserve space ahead of time. I actually called a few nights before, but it was at 3am and they weren't taking reservations there.
I'm glad everyone attened and that different groups of friends and my sister could all meet each other.
The next day I slept in and packed up and rearranged some things I had moved to my sister's apartment.
I had a lot of things packed to go to Jordan, a large suitcaseful, a backpack, and a shoulder-bag. My sister gave me money and a phone number to take a Town Car from Jackson Heights to Newark Liberty International Airport (EWR). After packing my things, I decided to try taking public transportation and pocketing the money. I made it to near the subway and a Town Car honked at me and I asked him how much it was to EWR, the number he quoted was less than the number given by my sister's prefered livery company, so I gave in.
During my hour-or-so-long ride from the East-Side (Queens) of the NYC metro to the West-Side (New Jersey), I decided to forgo listening to my iPod or making phone calls and make conversation with my driver. My driver was originally from Lahore, Pakistan, he moved to Brooklyn 8 years ago and Jackson Heights a few years ago. He liked Brooklyn much better, I think he said he lived in a largely-Hasidic neighborhood. It was much quieter and cheaper than Jackson Heights.
The electronic check-in didn't like my Continental One-Pass number. I didn't get a reminder phone call or "it's time to check in" email, did I actually purchase a ticket? Fortunately, the Orbitz-purchased ticket which consided of a Continental leg to Heathrow and a BMI flight to Amman, just wasn't linked to my OnePass number the way a Continental-purchased ticket would be. Continental had to "take ownership" of the ticket and process it. I they printed my boarding pass.
I weighed my suitcase, it was 49 pounds. The limit was 50. This wasn't the first time that has happened to me, although I have learned to pack light over the years... many of the things in the suitcase were things I will be giving away or leaving in Jordan. I watched "Citizen Kane" (1941), "Bullitt" (1968). I first watched "Law Abiding Citizen" (2009), but after 10 minutes I found it stupid and fast-forwarded through most of the scenes not showing Philadelphia.
St. David's Peninsula, Wales from my window:
The 9:20pm flight to Heathrow was 2/3-full and on a Boeing 757. I've never flown transatlantic on a plane so small. The 757 is a mid-sized narrow-body (one aisle) airplane, the size of a plane I would fly to a second-tier US city from a large city.
I arrived at Heathrow and almost went through immigration until the immigration officer told me I didn't need to (although, if my layover were longer, I would have). I went to Terminal 1 and used my computer and got online via Boingo.
The 12:50 BMI flight to Amman was 2/3 full. It was a b It didn't look like a flight to the Middle East at first blush, meaning there weren't many people whose region of origin could be easily determined by their appearance. From a cursatory glance at the Visa line when I arrived, there were a large amount of vistors to Jordan on the flight. Somewhere in the middle of the flight it occured to me that I only had $14 USD in my wallet. I started worrying about the cost of a visa. The visa for Turkey was $20, if I recalled correctly. I hoped that there would be an ATM before immigration and customs. Arriving at Amman's Queen Alia International Aiport, I saw there were none. Fortunately, the cash exchange place had a visa sign... but they would not take my bank card. I gave them $14 and I got 10JD back. The visa cost 10 JD.
The next day I slept in and packed up and rearranged some things I had moved to my sister's apartment.
I had a lot of things packed to go to Jordan, a large suitcaseful, a backpack, and a shoulder-bag. My sister gave me money and a phone number to take a Town Car from Jackson Heights to Newark Liberty International Airport (EWR). After packing my things, I decided to try taking public transportation and pocketing the money. I made it to near the subway and a Town Car honked at me and I asked him how much it was to EWR, the number he quoted was less than the number given by my sister's prefered livery company, so I gave in.
During my hour-or-so-long ride from the East-Side (Queens) of the NYC metro to the West-Side (New Jersey), I decided to forgo listening to my iPod or making phone calls and make conversation with my driver. My driver was originally from Lahore, Pakistan, he moved to Brooklyn 8 years ago and Jackson Heights a few years ago. He liked Brooklyn much better, I think he said he lived in a largely-Hasidic neighborhood. It was much quieter and cheaper than Jackson Heights.
The electronic check-in didn't like my Continental One-Pass number. I didn't get a reminder phone call or "it's time to check in" email, did I actually purchase a ticket? Fortunately, the Orbitz-purchased ticket which consided of a Continental leg to Heathrow and a BMI flight to Amman, just wasn't linked to my OnePass number the way a Continental-purchased ticket would be. Continental had to "take ownership" of the ticket and process it. I they printed my boarding pass.
I weighed my suitcase, it was 49 pounds. The limit was 50. This wasn't the first time that has happened to me, although I have learned to pack light over the years... many of the things in the suitcase were things I will be giving away or leaving in Jordan. I watched "Citizen Kane" (1941), "Bullitt" (1968). I first watched "Law Abiding Citizen" (2009), but after 10 minutes I found it stupid and fast-forwarded through most of the scenes not showing Philadelphia.
St. David's Peninsula, Wales from my window:
The 9:20pm flight to Heathrow was 2/3-full and on a Boeing 757. I've never flown transatlantic on a plane so small. The 757 is a mid-sized narrow-body (one aisle) airplane, the size of a plane I would fly to a second-tier US city from a large city.
I arrived at Heathrow and almost went through immigration until the immigration officer told me I didn't need to (although, if my layover were longer, I would have). I went to Terminal 1 and used my computer and got online via Boingo.
The 12:50 BMI flight to Amman was 2/3 full. It was a b It didn't look like a flight to the Middle East at first blush, meaning there weren't many people whose region of origin could be easily determined by their appearance. From a cursatory glance at the Visa line when I arrived, there were a large amount of vistors to Jordan on the flight. Somewhere in the middle of the flight it occured to me that I only had $14 USD in my wallet. I started worrying about the cost of a visa. The visa for Turkey was $20, if I recalled correctly. I hoped that there would be an ATM before immigration and customs. Arriving at Amman's Queen Alia International Aiport, I saw there were none. Fortunately, the cash exchange place had a visa sign... but they would not take my bank card. I gave them $14 and I got 10JD back. The visa cost 10 JD.
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2 comments:
wow. close call on the visa!
all i gotta say is "oh-man." i'm very happy for you. this sounds great and I'm glad to be back at the Special Topics Cafe. There is the chance i might return to Athens on a scholarship this summer, perhaps i could plan a flight to amman. Also, i think you meant cursory, not cursatory. I got yo back.
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