JFK-YYZ-JFK-East Harlem
Work took me to Toronto this week. While there, the meetings went wonderfully. Everything before and after was quite a challenge.
First, on Thursday morning, as I was preparing to head to JFK to catch the flight, I realized my passport was at the office. So with no time to spare, I made a quick trip to the office, grabbed my passport and then flagged a taxi. No cash in my pocket--and a cab with a broken credit card machine, as well as a driver who asked if I, "knew how to get to JFK." I hadn't really thought about how to get to JFK from Hell's Kitchen, so I was at a loss. I suggested the Midtown Tunnel and then the Van Wyck. It worked. Small blessing. On the subsequent flight, I was seated between rows of screaming babies.
During immigration/customs clearance in Toronto, I was taken aside for some rather personal questions, including whether I had ever had any problems with immigration and whether I had a criminal record. I confessed honestly that my criminal past consisted of nothing more than a few moving violations. By the way, what difference does it make to immigration if I am coming to visit for business or pleasure? And what difference does it make what my job is? I really don't think that's any of their business. But, hey, it's their country. If I go there, I must follow their rules. Coming back, though, is a different story. I expect US Border agents to be a little less inquisitive.
I didn't take an overcoat. It was plenty warm in NYC when I left home. I checked the temperature. Toronto isn't that far so I figured I would be fine. But, as evening temperatures approached the freezing point (0 degrees by their figures), I realized that any sightseeing or socializing must occur within the confines of Sheraton Centre. After exhausting all that the hotel had to offer, I escaped back to the confines of room 275 and sated my sweet tooth with overpriced dessert options from the room service menu.
Finally, this morning, I decided to get to the airport early enough to catch the 6:10am flight back to JFK (which meant waking up at 3am). Aside from the requisite screaming babies, it was a peaceful enough flight. Annoying at both Toronto's airport and JFK is the necessity to ride shuttle buses to the regional aircraft that Delta uses at both locations.
In an effort to save time, I decided I would take the AirTrain from JFK, connect with the E train, and take that to Manhattan, transfer to the 6 train and make my way home to East Harlem. Alas, the E train was not working at Jamaica Station. So the kind folks of MTA shuttled all the people to Kew Gardens on busses to catch the E train. The net result is that accounting for time in Toronto to clear border control, clear security and actually fly to NYC (about an hour of flight time), it took longer to get from JFK to East Harlem. Isn't it ironic?
By the time I got to Lexington Avenue, the frustration had passed and I had begun to chuckle about the misadventures.
Perhaps on a flight in the near future I will be recompensed by sitting next to some nice eye candy. That can really improve the worst of flying experiences. And God in Heaven above knows that it hasn't happened to me in AGES!
First, on Thursday morning, as I was preparing to head to JFK to catch the flight, I realized my passport was at the office. So with no time to spare, I made a quick trip to the office, grabbed my passport and then flagged a taxi. No cash in my pocket--and a cab with a broken credit card machine, as well as a driver who asked if I, "knew how to get to JFK." I hadn't really thought about how to get to JFK from Hell's Kitchen, so I was at a loss. I suggested the Midtown Tunnel and then the Van Wyck. It worked. Small blessing. On the subsequent flight, I was seated between rows of screaming babies.
During immigration/customs clearance in Toronto, I was taken aside for some rather personal questions, including whether I had ever had any problems with immigration and whether I had a criminal record. I confessed honestly that my criminal past consisted of nothing more than a few moving violations. By the way, what difference does it make to immigration if I am coming to visit for business or pleasure? And what difference does it make what my job is? I really don't think that's any of their business. But, hey, it's their country. If I go there, I must follow their rules. Coming back, though, is a different story. I expect US Border agents to be a little less inquisitive.
I didn't take an overcoat. It was plenty warm in NYC when I left home. I checked the temperature. Toronto isn't that far so I figured I would be fine. But, as evening temperatures approached the freezing point (0 degrees by their figures), I realized that any sightseeing or socializing must occur within the confines of Sheraton Centre. After exhausting all that the hotel had to offer, I escaped back to the confines of room 275 and sated my sweet tooth with overpriced dessert options from the room service menu.
Finally, this morning, I decided to get to the airport early enough to catch the 6:10am flight back to JFK (which meant waking up at 3am). Aside from the requisite screaming babies, it was a peaceful enough flight. Annoying at both Toronto's airport and JFK is the necessity to ride shuttle buses to the regional aircraft that Delta uses at both locations.
In an effort to save time, I decided I would take the AirTrain from JFK, connect with the E train, and take that to Manhattan, transfer to the 6 train and make my way home to East Harlem. Alas, the E train was not working at Jamaica Station. So the kind folks of MTA shuttled all the people to Kew Gardens on busses to catch the E train. The net result is that accounting for time in Toronto to clear border control, clear security and actually fly to NYC (about an hour of flight time), it took longer to get from JFK to East Harlem. Isn't it ironic?
By the time I got to Lexington Avenue, the frustration had passed and I had begun to chuckle about the misadventures.
Perhaps on a flight in the near future I will be recompensed by sitting next to some nice eye candy. That can really improve the worst of flying experiences. And God in Heaven above knows that it hasn't happened to me in AGES!
posted by Michael Vernon at Saturday, October 18, 2008
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