The Beginning of the Journey: New York City: August 21-22, 2009
Severe thunderstorm approaching Kennedy Airport on August 21, 2009
Friday, August 21, 2009
Storm Accompanies Arrival to U.S.
But how did this come to be?
On Friday, August 21, 17 hours of travelling by car, trains and a plane saw me arriving at the Comfort Inn at John F. Kennedy Airport. A towering black thunder cloud hung over JFK as our plane landed. Cross winds from the fast moving thunderstorm pushed our plane sideways. As it landed like a rollercoaster there was a cheer of relief from the passengers and clapping.
Lightning delayed the offloading of the baggage, but eventually I was reunited with my forty pound backpack.
Immigration was amusing. A young man called Jemany asked me, “What's the purpose of your visit, sir?” to which I replied, “I'm walking to North Dakota for hospices.” After a couple of “Are you serious?” questions from Jemany and him calling over a friend of his, all was well and he allowed me to stay until February, 2010.
The JFK Air Train and a shuttle bus took me to the Comfort Inn and a restful night followed... To be continued...
Saturday, August 22, 2009 – entry #1
“What I hadn't told her was that I really wanted to walk to Manhattan.”
In the morning a bath and a buffet breakfast set me up for the day. I then went up to the receptionist:
“Is it possible to walk to the subway from here?”
“No.” (That was helpful.)
“How far is it?”
“15 minutes by the shuttle bus.”
“OK, thanks.”
What I hadn't told her was that I really wanted to walk to Manhattan.
With most of my gear left at the hotel, I set off at 9 am. Outside the Fairfield Marriot I waylaid a man called Chi Chan to take my photo, explaining that I was about to walk to North Dakota for hospices. He wished me luck and then promptly gave me directions that were completely wrong. Luckily I ignored him and headed up Rockaway Blvd. With only 3 maps (1 torn from a Rand McNally Road Atlas, 1 from Google and 1 that was actually a subway guide) I set off into Queens...
Sunday, August 23, 2009 – entry #2
Finding My Way into Manhattan
Cicadas chirped in the steamy air and an endless stream of convenience stores, Burger Kings, Dunkin Donuts and the like passed me by. I tried to resist the temptation to stop and eat.
Just before the Van Wyck Expressway a muscular man wheeling a bike passed me by. We both jogged across several intersections before he said to me, “Where are you walking to?” “Ermmhh... North Dakota.' The man smiled and we fell to talking, as we walked.
The man's name was Alpha. We walked together for a short distance, then he had to turn off my route. He asked, “'How are you getting into Manhattan?” I replied, “Up Rockaway Boulevard, onto Atlantic Avenue and then try to get onto Pitkin and Bergen Street.”
He said, “Hmmh. I’m wondering if you'd do better to steer clear of the neighbourhoods off the main routes. If you stay on Atlantic, then take Flatbush West that'll take you over the Manhattan Bridge. You'll have problems finding the walkway over the bridge, but it's there.”
With that, Alpha shook my hand and wished me luck. I decided to believe in his directions.
Past Braisley Park Pond with green trees swaying in the breeze and up Rockaway Blvd. my way led on. The temperature was in the high 80's or maybe 90.
Dizzy from the Heat
By 11 am I reached a Wendy's, which felt like an oasis in the desert of grey, slat sided houses. I was dizzy from the heat and loss of sweat. The air conditioning was heavenly and a burger, fries and coke brought me back to life. It was also good to use the restroom.
Refreshed, I was back to the long road. The skies were overcast and a couple of showers started, but were half hearted. As soon as I got my waterproof coat out they would stop. The rain also helped cool me down.
I was in unknown territory, but, as subway stations appeared I knew I'd reached the edge of the heart of New York. All I had to rely on were Alpha's words... But there was Flatbush Avenue and it felt like the right way. Ahead was the Manhattan Bridge.
As Alpha had said the walkway was hard to find, but I was overjoyed when I climbed some stairs and saw the East River below me and Brooklyn Bridge to the south.
Twenty one years ago [when making this epic journey for the first time], I had walked to the Verrazano Bridge, but compromised by taking a bus over to Staten Island. It felt good to be walking across the Manhattan Bridge. Silver sided trains rumbled across and shook the bridge. Interesting graffiti was daubed over parts of the metal of the bridge, too.
Sunday, August 23, 2009 – entry #3
The Twin Towers: Missing from the Skyline
The skyrise towers rose to my left, across the greeny, brown water, but I could see that the two towers that meant so much to me were gone.
Like a smile with missing teeth, the New York Skyline felt wrong. I had to go see what was missing.
Passing rooftops daubed with more graffiti and passing the First Chinese Presbyterian Church, the Manhattan Bridge walkway took me into Chinatown. Through Queens, Brooklyn and now Chinatown...it was good.
Past statues of Confucius and Lin Ze Xu, I made for lower Manhattan and the intersection of West and Liberty. By about 3.30 I needed a restroom and a cool Wendy's with a frosty float sign lured me in.
After 6 hours of walking in the heat I was drenched in sweat and my face was red. The frosty float cooled the heat.
A Sad Visit to the World Trade Center Site
Walking right on Fulton Street, I came to the site of the World Trade Center. It was fenced off and security guards were telling people to go away. I was disappointed. Twenty years ago I had slept in bushes beneath the two shiny gold towers. The night had been warm and the place a peaceful haven amongst the crazy welter of experiences that was New York.
Now the place was like a still open wound...a wound that wouldn't heal and had only been hastily patched up. I walked down Liberty amidst throngs of tourists and people who had come to gawp at the site. Part of me had thought it would be a green park...not some fenced-off building site. I longed to see the green bushes that had been my bed.
[Editor’s Note: Colin walked from New York to California in 1988; this present journey will recreate a large portion of that trip. On his first night in the U.S., Colin slept undisturbed beneath one of the Twin Towers, hidden from view by a large bush. This visit is his first back since the 2001 terrorist attacks destroyed the buildings.]
Sunday, August 23, 2009 – entry #4
Sadness and Joy in Lower Manhattan
Climbing ramshackle stairs, I made my way to the One World Business Building. Inside it was cool. Revolving doors and an escalator took me down to street level. This all seemed familiar from the walk back in 1988, but back then I was headed for the 107th floor of the towers to view the whole of New York, before walking 5,000 miles to the West Coast.
Beyond a set of revolving doors, the heat of the city returned, but I stood on the corner of West and Liberty. Even the names sounded magical to me. From that side I could see the World Trade Center Site. I took some photos, but a security guard told me to leave. I said fine. The place wasn't the same as it had been. It needed healing. I just hoped it would be sooner rather than later.
With more than a little sadness I walked down West Street. And there was something that brought a smile to my face.
In a bubbling white water fountain two small children were splashing around and giggling, while their father looked on. The man's name was Ronald and he came from Ecuador. His daughter Kelly was about 6 and his son Ryan about 4. Ronald said it was fine for me to take photos. We talked a little about how he missed friends and family back in Ecuador...but mostly the 2 of us just smiled as the 2 kids splashed in the cool water.
Saying good bye to Ronald and the children I made for Battery Park. Back in 1988 I had seen homeless people sleeping in the portholes of the Clinton Memorial Fort. I wondered what to expect now. As the waterfront drew near I stood amazed. Green trees, exotic plants, huge flowers, statues and wooden walkways lined the quaysides and piers.
An Air of Optimism Blew Like a Cool Breeze
A huge butterfly flitted from flower to flower in Hudson River Park. Joggers, skaters, couples and families strolled through the parks, or sat in the welcome shade. On the shimmering waters of the Hudson, sailing boats, ferries and other sleek craft cut through the waves, adding more colour and life to the scene before me.
There were no homeless people in sight and as I had a hotel room to go back to, for once I didn't feel homeless either. [Editor’s Note: in 1988 Colin slept “rough”—outdoors, a great deal f the time. We shall see what he does this time around!]
New York Street Acrobats Amaze
By the Clinton Memorial Fort, loud music played and a crowd of onlookers had gathered. I moved closer. Entertaining the crowd were five acrobats and street dancers. “We are here to risk our lives for your sick amusement!” exclaimed the leader of the acrobats.
The acrobats were a Chinese guy, a Chinese girl, a Puerto Rican man, a man with almost jet black skin and a young white guy. The white guy opened the show with break dancing, spinning on the hard concrete as the crowd clapped and his fellow acrobats chanted, “Go white boy, go.”
The Puerto Rican guy tumbled his way over the cobbles and the Chinese guy leapt clear over three of the other performers and landed cleanly on his feet. They were impressive.
For the finale they lined up 7 children and young girls and had then bend over and hold their knees as if they were going to ay leap frog. With the loud music playing the Puerto Rican guy gave a long run up, jumped, spun in the air and cleared the line of seven people to land perfectly on his feet. It was incredible.
Collecting money in big black sacks and joking with the crowd, the street acrobats finished their show. It was good. For me it was good to see the place full of life and humor.
As the end to my first day of walking I couldn't have asked for anything better.
“You CAN walk to the subway from here!”
From Fulton Street I got a subway ticket that took me back to Rockaway Blvd. Another couple of hours walking took me back to the Comfort Inn. I wished that the receptionist that I had talked to about walking to the subway was still on duty so I could tell her that you could walk to the subway after all...but another young woman was at the desk.
I have one more night at the Comfort Inn, then it's time to hit the road for real.
