In New York

On my way here to Morocco, I had a lay over in New York. I arrived at JFK airport on Sunday Night, May 30th 2004. My first flight had been canceled from San Jose, and I had to wait for a later plane. At least I got to sit next to a guy who liked to talk, obviously I like to talk so it went well.

The plane arrived around 8:00 PM that night and I was experiencing New York for the very first time in my life. I had planned to stay the night at the airport, but my weary body said otherwise and I decided to get a hotel.

A very skinny Puerto-Rican girl at the reservations counter recommended a certain hotel which will remain unnamed. "Oh, it's very economical, very economical this hotel is...
".

Being as tired as I was, with my eyes burning because of my contacts, I really needed to get some rest. I should have known by the way she said 'economical' that the hotel she was booking me for would not be cool, but we all make mistakes and I decided to fork over 70 bucks plus tax so I could get out of the airport.

I took the Air-Train from the Airport towards Jamaica Station in Queens. Then, I took the E train to Manhattan. My hotel was on 83rd street, a few blocks away from Central Park. Now, when I think Manhattan, I think 'nice'. But this hotel I stayed in was nowhere near what I imagined.

Before I continue, I must say that I am thankful to have gotten some sleep that night. Other than that, the 'hotel' was the worst accommodation I have ever experienced! This was supposed to be New York??? It looked and felt like I was in Russia during the Cold War!

The room was on the fourth floor, measured about 8 X 10 feet, it featured a bunk-bed, absolutely no A/C, an empty refrigerator, a working sink, blankets, two tiny towels and a good view of the neighboring building's wall. The bathroom was a 'shared' bathroom that the whole floor used(2 per floor).

There was no elevator, the building was too old for that, so I'm glad I didn't pack a huge suitcase. I climbed the steps, carrying my back-pack, roller-bag and guitar. I was already sweating at the first floor! When I finally got to my room, I was relieved to find a fan in the window. As I reached for the electrical cord to plug it in, I found that there was no outlet close enough to do so. How stupid is that? Then I went back down to the 'lobby' and asked the clerk for bigger towels to which he replied, "oh, we are all out".
"well, do you have any extension cords, my fan doesn't have anywhere to plug in?"
"uh, we ran out of cords."
Actually, I don't think they had cords, anyway, at least I had a good night's sleep considering I could have been sleeping on a chair at the airport, trying to make sure nobody took my stuff.

I won't mention the nasty shower and how it was plugged up with gunk and other people's hair. Nor will I tell you about the loud neighbors partying all night and keeping me up.
But I must say that the next day, Memorial day, was much nicer. I hung out at Central Park. But I'll write about that later.