2/16/16,
“The Return Journey”
En route,
NYC Airporter 604
It is
raining in NYC, and I do not believe I will see sub-freezing temperatures or
snow again this year, not until November.
The groundhog was right. Winter
is over. He was just a week early. The return journey was a particularly
strenuous one, but, as that dateline attests, all’s well that end’s well. I will be at the office no more than an hour
or so late, and I have safely arrived back in the States with will my
possessions and purchases intact. I will
soon be eating my favorite New York staple: a poppy seed bagel with cream
cheese. Nothing, and I mean nothing,
says “Welcome to New York” like a poppy seed bagel, despite Taylor’s best efforts
to make a song out of it.
After I left
my hotel last night, it was no easy task to find a driver who would take me to
the airport. I was turned down by
numerous drivers with what I have come to learn is a Latin American way of
saying no: a wagging finger. In
English-speaking America, it would be an admonishment. The irony was not lost on me, and I was left
wondering why I was being admonished for wanting to go to the airport. Finally, someone agreed, but he had no idea
where he was going, and he got lost in a neighborhood that looked like it might
have still had the original Incan roads and buildings. He insisted it was the right direction, but I
refused to believe that the road from the main plaza to the airport went
through such an area. It only cost us 10
minutes, and I was at the airport by 9:30 PM.
My flight was scheduled to depart just past midnight at 12:10 AM. I went through security and border control
with no issue and then went to the duty-free shop. They had a few boxes of Montecristo No. 2
cigars, which were decently priced. One
problem. They were just sitting
out. They weren’t humidified or
temperature controlled. I had no idea
how many years they had been like that, and the boxes were sealed, so I
couldn’t even examine them. I was not
going to spend the better part of a week’s salary on a box of questionable
cigars. I instead got a bottle of pisco
and a bottle of Peruvian red. I headed
to the smoking bar, where I sat down, lit up my 2015 Christmas Pipe, and
proceeded to write last night’s entry.
After I closed, I connected to the Wi-Fi through my laptop. I had exactly 10 minutes to publish it and
post it to Facebook before the free Wi-Fi would expire. It took me just over 9 minutes. I then headed to the gate, and our flight
kept getting delayed. We were unsure if
the flight would ever even take off.
Finally, a little before 1 AM, we saw a happy sight, the wheelchair-bound
passengers were being rolled onto the plane.
It was not long before everyone else was boarded, which included a very
perfunctory search of our baggage. After
we took off, I soon fell asleep, waking up
for the dinner service, a pasta dish with some Coke Zero, falling back asleep afterwards. I didn’t wake up for breakfast, but a little
after that I was wide awake as we prepared to make our descent.
I had an exit row seat in the middle bunch of
seats, which was good because I had lots of extra leg room, but it was also
annoying because people kept walking through, often hitting my leg and annoying
me. I started putting my seat up on the
seatback in front of me to create a barrier that people could not cross. I would later learn the issue. The bathroom on the other side wasn’t
working, so everyone on that side had to cross in order to use the
bathroom. Right before we made our descent
I went to use the bathroom, and there was a cute girl in front of me. Or, at least I thought she was cute, until I noticed
her aquamarine toe nails. She was not
wearing any footwear, and she walked into the bathroom with her bare feet. HOW DOES SOMEONE DO THAT?!?
Anyway, we soon landed, and I made my way
through border control with no problem.
It was raining when I got outside, and I opted for the bus instead of a
taxi. The bus soon came, and I went to
my favorite seat in the back, where I proceed to write this entry. I put the seat in front of me down, but I was
soon told they needed that seat. Without
that extra legroom, the bus ride is very uncomfortable. If I am able to use it as a foot rest,
though, it’s more comfortable than a taxi.
Alright, now for those reflections.
I think it would be fair to divide North America into three regions: the
North, by which I mean US, Canada, Greenland, and Iceland; Central America, in
which I include Mexico; and the islands.
Many of the islands are Spanish-speaking, but they sure more in common
with each other and English-speaking parts of Central America (Belize), than
they do with Spanish South America.
Having been to South America twice now, this is the first time I have seen
the South American countryside. Yes, it
bears resemblance to the countrysides of Mexico and Costa Rica and Cuba, but it
is really something else entirely.
The
Indian culture is what unites these regions, but the Incan regions, to which I
very much look forward to further exploring in my 30s, are very different than
the Mayan and Aztec regions. However, there
are many things that unite the entire Spanish Americas, including small
things. One small thing is that vendors
of fruit and beverages will approach you at slow traffic and offer to sell
their wares. The aggressive souvenir vending
I am all too familiar with extended to restaurants here in this country. People would try to get you to eat at their
restaurant the same way they would try to sell you souvenirs.
The food was great, even the guinea pig, and
I am very much looking forward to discovering Ecuadorian and Columbian cuisine
on my next return to Spanish South America, or, perhaps, Venezualan cuisine,
and I have a feeling I should go there sooner rather than later. Either way, I have 10 countries left to discover
on that continent, and I am very much looking forward to it. On that note, I close, along with closing out this trip. Next stop: probably the Carolinas in March, a trip I have been saying I’ll take every March for three years now.
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