New York, New York

Wow. What a day! (A flipping long one!) After my fantastically forgettable experience at Heathrow, I survived the seemingly endless flight to JFK, only to spend ages trying to get out of the damn airport! 

First, the customs guy decided to escort me to a side room with five customs officials and only two other non-customs people (both on the illegal immigrant side of the looks department, if you catch my drift). I then waited there for twenty minutes in an admittedly nervous silence waiting for Mr "I'm so cool I can make my bald wrinkled head look like a shaved Sharpay dog" to explain to me why the hell I was sitting there as if I had smuggled an as yet unidentified species of African toad halfway across the world just to pee him off. (He actually turned out to be a nice man once he remembered how to use his words, but unfortunately also a phenomenal waste of my time). Eventually I got through because nothing was actually amiss, they simply wanted to ask me MORE inane questions. 

Once I got my bag (and did NOT use a $5 trolley - could they squeeze anymore money from these poor people??) and got out into the world of JFK, I went to get a prepaid SIM card which, much to my horror, cost more than three months of an SA cellphone contract! Just for one month! Sad face :( After acquiring this ridiculously costly piece of plastic, being awkwardly hit on by the large and definitely-old-enough-to be-my-great-uncle sales guy, and waiting in line for an hour for the airport shuttle, I was finally on my way into New York with a massive bubble of excitement building up inside me. 

My feeling when I caught my first glimpse of the New York skyline was unlike anything I can describe. However, it was very quickly eclipsed by my rapidly mounting concern that I would never even make it into the city. Our shuttle driver put most South African taxis to shame. He was on both his phone and tablet at all times, turned across three lanes at a time, and regards red lights as a challenge rather than a warning. In two hours he managed to make me MISS South African taxis and the sanity of their ways. (I leave here, a significant pause for you to absorb the enormity of this driver's achievement). It was a harrowing experience and I had to fight every temptation to dramatically kiss the sidewalk when he finally dropped me off at the hostel. Happily, I managed to resist that urge.

My room is on the third floor of the hostel, pretty nice view of a large red brick building and a corner flower market, and I have the bed by the window :) I have three room mates, one Dutch, two Asian, all unusual characters, but the Dutch girl, Linda, is very friendly and forthcoming with advice which is great. I went down to a diner on Broadway street (OMG!) and had a burger with American cheese (because regular cheese just won't do). It was huge but very yummy! I then bought a subway ticket and then...to Times Square! There are no words.

Everything is MASSIVE. Everything sparkles. Everything costs money! EVERYTHING is gold. I kid you not. I'll post pics tomorrow. What a crazy idea to live like that. Look out tomorrow for my first attempt at uploading pics, dears :) 

Stay classy c",)