When I first walked on European ground I had a very special man with me, my father. He had come to visit me in the United States, where I was getting my college degree. He had never seen the Big Apple and was thrilled to do it with his younger daughter. We were staying in Connecticut, near the New York State border, with his cousin Chiqui, a cheerful sweet person. On the day of our departure, she was to drive us to the airport. So for the next few days we needed only to relax and enjoy the city that never sleeps, literally.
Times Square, NYC
After strolling through Central Park, having a hot dog, admiring the Statue of Liberty, going blind in Times Square, and enjoying Chinatown, the big day finally came. It was time to cross the pond on an airplane London bound.
We left the house four hours before our departure time, just in case we encountered any traffic jams or any other problem. As we were approaching the JFK, I turned to our cousin and said, “El JFK? No, nuestro vuelo sale de Newark.” She hit the breaks and with a wild-eyed expression said, “No, you’re kidding!” I took out our flight details, and realizing I was right, we all got very nervous. Newark airport was in New Jersey, and we had to cross Manhattan to get there. The smartest thing to do was to take a bus from the JFK. We kissed her good-bye and our adventure began with a beat.
Clock ticking. Heart pounding hard. Lines that seemed endless, a passport stamp, and a race to our gate. We made it. Traveling to the old continent had never been so intense.
******
A smooth landing on the Old Continent, another passport stamp and we were free to go. Where? We had no idea. We didn’t even have a hotel reservation. This was our first concern, but a young friendly Londoner at an airport kiosk found us one. I did all the talking. My father knows a little English, but the British accent was extremely difficult for him. I had to translate and at one point he interrupted me and said, “Mirá, ¿entonces nos van a dar bicicletas en este hotel?” ¿Bicicletas? Why in the world would he asked me that? Then I knew where this was coming from: pronunciation. Everytime the young man said ‘basically’ my dad thought he was saying ‘bicycle’. We had a good laugh!
I then knew that no matter what, everyting was going to be alright. I was in Europe with my dad. We had almost missed our flight, but made it still; we had landed without a place to stay, but we had just booked at Picadilly Circus (not yet knowing how cool that place is), what else could happen to us? Get ourselves lost.
It happened on our third day. We had decided to visit museums and to walk from one to the next. After just the first, I remember walking for an eternity, seeing nothing but houses. No people. No touristy places. No bars. No shops. Then our salvation: a boulevard with lots of everything. But where were we? We had to ask someone. We approached a news-stand.
“You are telling me you walked all the way from the British Museum to here? Blimey! And now you want to go back?” He turned to his helper and told him our story, and they both laughed for five minutes straight. The boulevard where we were was not on our map. They weren’t mean. They were just extremely amused and couldn’t believe how we could still be standing on our feet. Neither could we! We were in great need of a bus number and a seat. They told us the number and wished us luck, but … we took the one going in the opposite direction.
After a very long ride, the bus stopped and we had to get off. This was a poor neighborhood, we could tell by the few people on the street. Mentally and physically exhausted, we crossed the street to get on the same bus, this time in the right direction. ¡Qué tontos! Another problem: we only had one ticket left and there was no place to buy another. Our plan: get on the bus anyways. We were too tired to care.
Finally our bus came, and it was a double-decker! We hadn’t yet gotten on one, finally something exciting! F i n a l m e n t e…on our way to downtown London and sitting on the second deck!
Big Ben, London
We climbed the stairs, sat, looked at each other, and laughed our hearts out!
Traveling to the old continent had never been this intense.
*****
Later that night at a great restaurant in Picadilly Circus with a large beer in his hand, my dad asked me, “So what’s next, honey?” Toasting, I said, “Switzerland.”
But that’s another story.
