Mrs RM and the boys just wanted to go home. Even though we all find Cambridge flat and boring and our DC apartment had a washing machine.
I was ready to rejoin the great GBG adventure.
Our lads were just hot and bothered, and our bus delayed by an hour at Union Station.
Bolt Bus got us back to Manhattan, eventually.
Possibly not on the intended bus, as all sorts of BRAPA-tastic chaos ensued around us.
Two work colleagues spent an hour discussing packing arrangements to get around airline luggage restrictions, and a very loud American (aren’t they all ?) gave the entire coach the details of his phone conversation as the bus didn’t stop at his house.
“SO ARE YOU TELLING ME THAT YOUR EMPLOYEE TOLD ME TO GET ON THE WRONG BUS AND IT’S NOT STOPPING AT PHILADELPHIA AND YOU WON’T PAY FOR ME TO GET HOME FROM NEW YORK THANK YOU FOR NOTHING“
We caught the end of Pride, a last Chipotle (“Chi-po-lay”) on 34th, and a lively subway to Jamaica, where a friendly bus driver overlooked our dubious tickets on the last leg.
Mrs RM had booked the Days Inn a shuttle ride from JFK.
From the window we could see the famous school bus graveyard.
No bars at all in Jamaica, NY, so I found this lovely IPA for Mrs RM to drink out of a paper cup (we’re not philistines).
The nice lady in the 7-11 counted out the $3.79 in nickels and dimes I had out in my grubby hand, which was nice. Why is the 5 cent bigger than the 10 cent ?
That’s almost my lot.
Oh. At the JFK departure gates we cleverly beat the $25 a head lunch charge by taking on our own sandwiches and pasta bowls. 4 light meals cost $102. Honest.
Still, I slept soundly on the 6 hour flight back to Gatwick, arriving 10 minutes too late for the last train back to Cambridge.
“WHY DIDN’T YOU BRING THE CAR !” said two young men who seemed to have forgotten the deal and elected to stay awake playing games on the flight back.
What do you do at Gatwick from midnight till the 4.21am when the Spoons closed at 11.30pm ?
Well, I wrote 3 blogs in the Departures Lounge.
Then at 3.30am, Matt strolled past and casually said “The Spoons is open, you know”
What a joy it is to be drinking Britain’s favourite beer at 3.31 in the morning.
And what a lovely sight London is, as the train edges over Blackfriars Bridge.
Love you really, USA. Never really got the Clash.
retiredmartin 
Well what a fun trip you had and nice you could get to share it with your two lads
One of the great joys of parenthood is that your kids still value your company ( and money ) as they get older.
We have jollies planned for South Africa at Christmas and the Greek islands next summer with ours.
Meanwhile,three weeks from today Mrs PP-T and I cross the pond for our trip up the Pacific North-West coast taking in such places as Eureka,Big Sur and Monterey towards Oregon and possibly even Boise,Idaho – all based on a single article I read in the Guardian.
http://www.theguardian.com/travel/2016/nov/05/usa-road-trip-small-town-california-idaho-washington-oregon
There will be beer.
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That’s a very perceptive comment about children, Prof.
Really good we still got on as they approached adulthood, worth every dollar.
Glad to see you’re travelling plans aren’t letting up 👍
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P P-T,
You can’t go far wrong with the Guardian.
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The Manchester Guardian, certainly.
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Martin,
Yes, it was definitely the Manchester Guardian when it published a letter from my father in the mid 1950s.
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I’ve absolutely loved reading your US blogs. Obviously one will be just as delighted to continued reading your return to pot plants and covert photos with extra added Bass, but this was a joy, great photos too..👍🏻
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Thanks for that, Raymondo, much appreciated.
I loved New York, but I was reluctant to take covert photos in case I got into trouble or offended people. Odd but true.
I’m glad to be back, starting with an immediate plant pot pour in Yorkshire later today 😉
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Yankee soldier
He want to do some skag
He met it in Cambodia
No he can’t afford a bag
How can you not get the Clash! That aside a terrific set of posts and once I’ve remortgaged the house to pay for flights I’ll remortgage again to pay for the 🍺!
Hugely entertaining…as ever…and bonus points for a clash song in the title
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I think they seemed a bit forced to me at 16 compared to the Jam, and I never got the reggae.
That said, London Calling was one of the first singles I bought.
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That is all fair enough! My big sister brought me their first album and it changed my views on music!
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Let’s not fight!
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Absolutely not 👍 we’ll save that for the Judean people’s front 😄
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Might I luxuriate you, in the knowledge that in the United Kingdom, an annual World Nettle Eating Championship draws thousands of people to Dorset? At this event, the competitors attempt to eat as much of the raw plant as possible. They are given two-foot stalks of the plant, from which they strip the leaves and eat them. Whoever plucks and consumes the most stinging nettle leaves within an allotted time is the winner.
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I feel luxuriated, Reg.
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You really are most welcome good sir. Might I presume to supplement your privilege, with the sumptuous fact, that this competition takes place at the Bottle Inn, in Marshwood?
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A very Dorset pub, Reg.
Up for sale presently, I see.
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“Why is the 5 cent bigger than the 10 cent ?”
Because the 10 cent, as well as the 25 cent, 50 cent and one dollar coins were mostly silver in the good old days.
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Good answer. Cheers.
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Our coins are all over the place though – a 2p has ideas far above its station really
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When I were a lad we used coins of five reigns including Victorian ‘bun head’ pennies dating back to 1860.
And money were worth something back then – with a school dinner costing only a shilling (5p).
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