Hurray, hurray it's a holi, holiday in One day at a time

I’m back. I know this falls under first world problems with a capital F but boy I feel down. I’m pretty sure it is a combo of jetlag and post holiday trauma.
We had a fabulous time away. I hesitate to call it a holiday though. My God we packed some stuff in. I averaged about 4 hours sleep a night, and I can’t think of a single moment where we just blobbed out. Still it’s not everyday you get to go to New York and I don’t regret a thing.

So let’s start at the beginning. We had a cunning plan. I was flying from my hometown to Sydney, Susan from her hometown (also in NZ) to Sydney and Gini was driving to Sydney. We were then supposed to rendezvous and all fly on to LA. We hit our first glitch when Susan’s pilot called in sick (selfish prick). So she missed the Sydney meet up, but fortunately was able to get a later flight and met us in LA. Her seat (I was in the window and Gini on the aisle) was released to an off duty hostie who was complete and utter looney tunes – she deserves an entry all to herself. So after a fairly uncomfortable 13.5 hour flight G and I arrived in LA. We were staying at an airport hotel and I was pathetically delighted to step out of the shower, turn the telly on and Young and the Restless was on. Judge me if you will, but I love that show. It was pulled from NZ tv about 6 years ago, and I have done my best to keep up on line, but it just isn’t the same. Anyway after wasting an hour watching that, and marvelling at the ads in between plus a bit off faffing about, I took the shuttle back to the airport and met Susan off her flight (it was her and Gini’s first USA trip). Susan was feeling remarkably fresh so we all took a trolley down to Manhatten beach and walked along the water front for a while. It was sooo nice to feel the sun on our backs (I really think the light is different in California). We had an early dinner and flew out to New York (JFK) the following morning. With the time difference we arrived in New York at about 5.00pm, and caught a yellow taxi (exciting) to our home for the next 8 nights – a two bedroom apartment in Harlem. It is owned by a gay guy called Michael (I’m not sure how Susan found it, but her husband has also stayed there), and beautifully decorated. All pale wooden floors and white linen. Bliss. A few people expressed concern when we told them we were staying in that area, but it was absolutely fine. Two minutes from the subway which was great.

I’ve got lots more to write, but boss is starting to look at me suspiciously, so I will be back…..