Day 5!

I'm lying here in bed, looking out the window - this time to a suburban street. I'm visiting 'my' American family in Mineola,  town in the suburbs. It's actually really awesome how much their street looks like Wisteria Lane in Desperate Housewives.
This place is the nicest house with the nicest people!

Visiting them was my plan for the day - but I decided to travel through Brooklyn first, since it's on the same side as Long Island, where I was going to see the Wittenbergs. But it turned out to be quite the detour.

I started my day by running down the stairs from the 16th floor, like yesterday. When I got out on the street, I realized I'd forgotten my camera - so I had to go up again and fan down the same many stairs from the 16th floor.
Maybe that's what caused the bad luck for the rest of the day. Here's what happened.

........

I took the subway down to Brooklyn Bridge, to walk the length of it, like I'd been waiting years to do. In movies this is where lovers would meet halfway and come to terms with their relationship. And no, parents, I haven't met a boy yet - this day was all for me.

But I should mention that the Brooklyn Bridge is like the longest suspension bridge in the world. So I was already dumped from walking the length of it. I'd been wearing my very pretty - but not too smart comfortable-wise boots. They are really just made for looking pretty, because your feet ache after some miles of walking. But I wore them this morning, because I figured I'd only be walking the length of the bridge...

BUT look at the beauty!

It turned out that Brooklyn - as in the mid of Brooklyn city where there were actual people and shops was quite far from the bridge, since there was a huge highway running down to the city. So I had to walk for about 20 minutes, until I could finally sit down and enjoy a Starbucks, yay!  And I found a beautiful bouquet of flowers in the town for Susan, figuring I'd be with them in  an hour or so.
My feet were reaaally bad, so the next thing I had to do after resting, was just to find the subway as fast as possible, which should take me to the nearest train station where I could find the Long Island rail.

I had looked it up the night before, planning out this whole trip, and I knew that the train to Mineola would start from Long Island City rail station, as well as Penn station on West 34th street on Manhattan. This was the train station I was first directed to go from, by Phil. But I got up as early as I could, so I could be a tourist for a coupe of hours, before I'd arrive at their house, around 12am - I hoped!

Brooklyn doesn't have a lot of Subway stations, but when I finally found one, I took the subway 10 stops north to Long Island, after waiting 25 minutes underground.

When I got out from the subway, it was raining with cats and dogs!! But I didn't stop on the way, since I was only wearing a thin shirt and the flowers were beginning to bow their poor heads from the rush of water and I was just determined to reach the station, in order to reach the warm house.

A lady gave me directions to the station, but saying "But I think the station is closed?.. it usually is in the weekends.." And today was labor day, so everything worked as in the weekends. But I just said - "no I'm pretty sure it's open, I looked it up online", which I of course hadn't double-checked, but I refused to believe her.
Looking back now, I see how much of the journey I could have cut off, had I only trusted the bad news.

So when I arrived at Long Island Rail it literally looked dead and the whole area felt inhabited. I was walking all alone. Took a few moments, feeling the urge to curse, but then said "ok", and I kept walking straight ahead to find another subway station, which should take me aaaaall the way back from the beginning.

I walked for 15 minutes, and there was like nothing! I was like .. hooow do people get around and wheeere are people. They were probably all on Manhattan for Labor day. So what I at last found was the East River Ferry, which would take me back to Manhattan.

I just realized that this journey could've been worse if I took the downtown ferry instead of the midtown ferry.. BUT I got on the midtown ferry not long after I got there. Well, not the ideal timing - but now I've tried the ferry, I thought to myself!

When I reached Manhattan, I was thrilled, but my feet weren't. And when a man replied my question of how many blocks up Penn Station was, I think I died for the first time that day, reeeally not hooked on walking 8 long blocks!!
That would be almost from one side of Manhattan to the other from East to West.
Here's the thing - I had bought a monthly subway card that day, but looking at the Subway map, I'd have to change about 4 times, and walk across a few places to get to Penn station, because there is no straight line going across 34th street.
I rechecked it tons of times, but taking the subway would be a stupid plan. But my feet were crying because, I'd been building up some massive blisters all the way from the end of the Brooklyn Bridge.
I don't know how tough this sounds to you, but I couldn't feel anything but the pain.

I counted the blocks loudly, and got more and more frustrated, the more centered I got on Manhattan, because more people got in the way. Any step more to the side, in order not to bump into people, was such a pain.
I kind of felt like Ross in Friend's when he's running after Rachel, and reaches this crowd of old people walking reeeally slowly "could you MOVE any faster", he shouts in despair. Yeah that was me.

But oh my gosh I was happy to see Penn station! 34th street is long, just so you know.
When I got down to the station, the man by the counter said "before you buy a ticket, - are those flowers for me?". Don't you dare take my flowers, I thought. They're my significant symbol of happiness and hope! "No, they're for my mum", I said. Because I knew then that the flower question would be a total taboo.

At the station, you couldn't find you train's platform until it arrived, so I was standing impatiently in pain by the boards, waiting for the platform number to come. 15 minutes after that I sat in my train, I couldn't be more relieved. Soon, I'll be standing by the Wittenberg's house. Soon.

After what must've been about a 40 minute train ride, I finally arrived at the station.
Now of course, the family had offered to pick me up there. But I got out of that, insisting on walking through the suburban neighborhood, before reaching their house, in what I thought would be 15 minutes.

I'd drawn this little map of directions to their house. I had all the roads on I had to reach on the way, so I could never get lost. But it could take forever, apparently. I honestly thought I'd be there in 15 minutes. Okay, so I had difficulty finding the first road I had to be on, which made me walk around the block a couple of times before I found my way.
I knew I had to follow Franklin avenue, and that it should eventually turn into Franklin road about halfway down to the T-cross I was going to meet. So I knew that when I had reached the road-sign, I'd be halfway down the first bit.

I walked for what seemed like forever. And my feet and now legs were screaming to last for that forever. I had to focus on my breathing in order to put my mind on something else. From about 16th block, where the rail station was, I had reached a couple. The blocks were really long, and I thought it seemed weird that the avenue didn't turn into the road, because I'd been walking for ages. So I asked a girl who passed how far away Fulton avenue was. "It's way down that way, at the end of the road", she said. Okay, so I was at least going the right way. But then she looked at me and she was like "But, girl, that is looooooooonnng" in her African accent (I'm sure you see the picture), and she looked at me as if saying, 'You are NOT going to make it to Fulton avenue, what are you doing on your walking feet!'

Okay so maybe I died for the second time that day, but I really kept the spirit up, because I had already come such a long way. And I saw all the suburban things on the way, and I smiled thinking of one of my favourite tv-shows, desperate housewives, once again. Everything really looked like it.

But the avenue never turned into a road, and I must've been dehydrated and terribly hungry (the time was 4pm and I the last time I ate was a bit of breakfast at 9am). The Starbucks energy was used up miles ago...
At a point the suburban houses ended and a part of another city began, which made me really frustrated, since the suburban house had been my guideline all the way - I just had the reach the one belonging to the Wittenberg's! I realized that I must have had to walk through a hole new town, and out of it again, in order to reach their suburban area.
I stood at the cross roads for a couple of minutes, wanting to shout and maybe just fall on the road and wait to be picked up by someone. A time I actually went back the other way, trying to find a nice person in a car, who could drive me to Fulton avenue, or at least let me know how far I was from the car's GPS. One man and his son in a car actually looked at me and smiled, while they slowly rove past me. That felt like a moment to take, but for some reason I didn't. So I told myself that I had a goal, and I kept on walking.

I was pinching and biting my fist, not to feel the great pain in my feet. And the town I went through was a bit downtown-ish looking with funny people on the street and people whispering, "heeey beautiful" after me.

I know this picture might look a bit nasty, but especially you mum and dad, deserve to know the true story.

But it really wasn't as bad as it may sound. I was safe, but I don't know which part of my body dragged me down the street, my legs sure didn't, because they seemed to have passed out miles ago. I was beginning to feel and out of body experience.

I was reminded of Paul Coelho's book 5 minutes, where there's a girl who walks on the beach with her bare feet on the sharp stones. She tests how much she can take, and eventually she passes out. After she's woken up, she now knows how far over what seemed like the end line she could go, f she put her mind to it determinedly.
This kind of felt like that. But I didn't pass out. I hadn't yet reached my goal.

And when I saw Fulton avenue, I almost cried of the relief, but I thought that was a bit over the top, so instead I gave myself 5 minutes to sit down and rest. Taking a look at my blisters, which covered up my whole heal on both feet, and they looked like they had started to bleed inside.

People who passed by were starting to look at me, and it's like they knew how stupid it was to walk around in this huge area. I was the only one by foot, except for a few people standing by the bus stop.
While I sat down a car pulled over, offering for a ride, but when I got up on my feet, he looked a bit funny and strange, so I kindly said no thank you.
So now I was looking for Westminister road. I found it.

The rest of the journey was just a blur. And I tried to take off my boots and walk with my socks on the grass, but my feet were so swollen, so that didn't help a bit.
I found St. Paul's place, which is around the time I lost my map - but I had it all in my head. And then I finally reached Buckingham road, where the Wittenberg's live.
I have never been more happy to see a house in my life!
And it really was a nice house. Very cute and typically suburban.
Just look at it.

This is how many km I walked today (I looked it up): 19,4071 km
Here's is the map of my journey:

Today, Susan asked me what I usually reply, when people ask me where home is. It depended on where I was and who I was with (like a police office or something where my papers say that I'm plain Dane), I replied. But I don't feel like one nationality, I said. I'm part Danish, Portuguese, Icelandic, Swedish, English, Spanish, French and German, but at times I can really feel that a part of me is African too. I like to see myself as a globetrotter, I said.

What it made me think about is that home is where you make it. Anywhere you go, you can make a home. But home doesn't have to be the name of a certain place. Home is not the idea of a family with a house and dog.
Home is what you feel from the heart.
Home is when you settle your soul.
When you don't wonder around in despair.
.. I guess a bit like I did today. But I wasn't all in despair, only in great pain and exhaustion from my feet that were bleeding blisters. And then there was a lot of self-pity, when I reached my pain's out of body experience. Self-pity, - a horrible but sometimes very needed thing, when you're alone.

But along the way I had this goal of reaching the Wittenberg's suburban house, and it seemed that the thought of it made the journey - no matter how tough - unstoppable.
Because it was my goal, and if I quit, then there would've been no point, and if I hitchhiked or found a taxi, I wouldn't have done it completely by myself.
And I couldn't wait to see the look on Susan's face, when I'd give her the flowers!
FORTUNATELY, they now looked like they were bought yesterday, but it's the symbolic meaning of the flowers that's beautiful, so they worked out just fine!

Now, this journey was of course not smart and healthy. Today, however, I also realized that I have the spirit of some kind of insane determination and stubbornness.
It's good to know now, so I don't push myself to the breaking point in the midst of the desire of reaching a goal.

When I started writing tonight, I actually only thought it was to give you guys a funny story. I didn't think the episode had taught me anything else but; don't choose walking over public transport in New York, or wear the right shoes, or accept when you need help.
But now I see that the journey has taught me a great deal.
And maybe you something too?

Taking the climb always takes a lot of energy. But once you reach the goal, you come to feel how much it was worth it.

And I really did have a good day today. We had an American specialty - chicken wings -, we watched the animation movie 'An American Tail' (which was obviously the best treat of the day), and I found out that Susan is a huge Disney fan too, AWESOME!

The Wittenberg's told me that I may know New York far better than them, after my 2 years. Maybe I will! Even though I don't plan on taking such a walk again!

But right now, my eyelids are beginning to drag themselves down to finally being able to rest. I promised my grandma this morning, that I'd take good care of myself and rest for the sake of my voice.
So that's what I'll do.

I love you all! X

More suburban pictures: