Published: 23.07.2017
First comment from Cecilia, holding her nose as we leave the JFK building: 'What kind of air is this, will it be like this for 4 weeks now?!'
Because the taxi is supposed to cost at least (depending on the traffic...) 110 euros, we decide to patiently wait for the bus that is supposed to take us to Port Authority in Manhattan, where we will take the subway that will take us directly to Washington Heights, where we will be staying.
Warm, no, hot exhaust gases flow out of the bus (which is being unloaded in front of us and unfortunately is not ours yet), huge tires roll over the soft asphalt. Hopeful but not completely convinced look as I recall sandy beach, sea, and Central Park, it only smells this bad here at the airport, I tell her, also hopeful...
It is now 6 pm in New York, 12 midnight at home. Christian buys the tickets while Cecilia falls asleep lying on the suitcase.
Half an hour later we are on the bus. Past an infinite number of sometimes tiny seemingly uninhabited houses made of cardboard in white, pink, light brown, right next to the highway.
We approach Manhattan through the Queens Midtown Tunnel: roaring street chaos, stop-and-go, now Cecilia is awake again. Look up at never-ending glass facades, there - Grand Central Terminal - wow! Then arrival at Port Authority, the largest bus terminal in the world. Here we make our way to Subway 1 and rattle up 23 stations to Washington Heights.
Our apartment is on the 6th floor at Riverside Drive 870, a fancy house from 1915, overlooking the Hudson and the Washington Bridge. The apartment is huge, there is air conditioning, Cat KC (Kurt Cobain) greets us, connected with the note that his food is right next to the kitchen and he would be very grateful if we could finally put it there.
The dress-up box in the children's room fascinates Cecilia. Turtle asks me if she can sleep with us tonight. Of course she can. We pull the mattress over and all fall asleep exhausted.