Last week B and I found ourselves in New York City. It’s not like we suddenly woke up from an unknowing slumber in a strange and distant land, or that we were on a walkabout and this was our final destination. This journey was planned. In fact in the days leading to the BIG day, we spent time looking at maps and ferry and bus schedules, so much so that when the BIG day finally arrived, we were very confident that we could navigate our way across the island of Manhattan with ease. It was almost as though we felt we ourselves were New Yorkers. Oh, yes, residents. Nay, natives.
Admittedly, everything went smooth, from our timely departure from Pennsylvania to the I78 Express merge to Jersey City to finding parking and the Paulus Hook ferry dock. We even have the pictures to prove it.
The dual process of catching the ferry and then catching the corresponding NY Waterways bus on West Street to midtown was seamless. Our BIG day was perfect. We arrived at the Imperial Dock at 40th a mere 45 minutes after we parked the car in New Jersey. After that we walked to Times Square to lose ourselves in the grandeur of the City.
We spent hours walking and eating. All was going according to plan. And then when it was time to make our way back to the car via a bus and a ferry, we walked to exact spot the map indicated on the corners of 42nd and 7th. We squinted and discussed and finally decided that where we stood was the NY Waterways bus would appear to start us on the journey home. We looked up confidently from the map, smiles as broad as our faces, and that’s when we saw the bus on the other side of the street and our smiles drooped just a little. We ran. The bus left. Once on the other side of the road, not so confident but still hopeful, we looked up again just in time to see the bus on the other side of the street. We ran again. The bus left.
Out of breath and just a little confused, we did this another two times before we finally met the bus on the south side of the street where the driver, who didn’t stop when we hailed him in the appropriate taxi-cab style described by the bus schedule pamphlet, flipped his hand to indicate this bus stopped on the north side of the street.
We crossed the road once more. We caught the bus. We went home. In the end, we weren’t sure if we were lost or found.
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