May 16, 2001 (Day 70)

May 16, 2001 (Day 70): Brooklyn, New York – 11pm

Ten days left. We continue to keep pace with Fogg. He was in New York City today buying passage on the Henrietta after missing the Cunard liner China by 45 minutes. Hopefully we will have better luck with our Cunard connection.

Health:  OK.

Morale:  Good.

The day began clear to partly cloudy and segued into overcast skies. A freight train derailment outside of Albany put us behind schedule, but the ride along the Hudson more than compensated for the lost time.

First impressions of New York were of large open areas beneath an overpass, expanses of broken concrete like a huge plowed field and littered with old mattresses and torn clothing. Huge monoliths made of concrete, brown with age and decorated with graffiti. Plenty of razor wire. To be fair, trains don’t often traverse the nicest parts of a city.

Many of the positive sentiments that have been built up by our Amtrak experience have evaporated by the experience of collecting our luggage at Penn Station. Granted, going the two floors from the train to the luggage claim promised to lose at least one of our group in the eddy of bodies. The unexplained half-hour wait for our bags to materialize was aggravating. The luggage claim was closed, no information was available informing us why there was the delay, and the nerves of my fellow passengers got a little frayed. To make matters worse, there was not even that much luggage. But Anna’s Uncle Mark had met us at the train, so we had the added confidence that we were at the right place to collect our bags.

Uncle Mark was also there to maneuver us through the New York public transit system. From Penn Station it was a straight shot to his subway stop, no need to change trains. The hardest thing was getting us, Anna’s parents, and all of our collective bags into the subway system. No small feat, this. We had to get through the turnstiles, up some stairs, down some stairs, onto the same train, and deal with certain people who like to stop at the top of stairways when there are others carrying bags coming right up behind them. Friends, if you must stop at the top or bottom of stairways, move out of the way so that others can get past. An additional wrinkle was the advantage that Anna and I have so far into this trip. We have our own style and communicate and anticipate each other often without words. Our style is neither better nor worse, but we tend to see what needs to be done and do it without discussion. This can be difficult for others new to traveling with us to accept.

I have been on the road too long. Across the street from Uncle Mark’s apartment is a federal courthouse. Prominently displayed on the side of this building is an official looking emblem with a bald eagle. My first thoughts upon seeing this was that it was the American Embassy.

We are staying with Anna’s Uncle Mark in Brooklyn, right at the edge of the Brooklyn Bridge. For dinner – and to celebrate his birthday – he took us on a walk to a little neighborhood place that served a cassoulet that was full of flavor. The skies cleared on the walk to the restaurant. Great weather to be outdoors: not to warm or cold and full of the scent of approaching summer. The area was busy but it was not the wall-to-wall bodies of the New York City of my television and film-fueled imaginings. People smiled; said ‘Hello.’

After we got back, we went up to the roof of his building to view the city at night. The panorama included the World Trade Towers, the Empire State and Chrysler Buildings, the Brooklyn Bridge (of course) and, lit tonight by a near-Biblical parting of the clouds, the Statue of Liberty. It was a superb way to end the day.

Excerpts from Anna’s journal included

• ChasingFogg15
• New York
• Travel
• USA