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At this point in my trip I must say I am getting confused and once again weary of the moving on. Where do I live? How is that Ireland can still feel like a home even though I don't know when I'll be back? When will I see these people again? Will I see them again? Wouldn't it have been easier if I'd never gone travelling and everyone I knew was within an easy drive of where I grew up?
Anyway enough of the questions and emotional rant, farewell green place, I'll be thinking of you when I'm back in the red place (to my amazement it barely rained whilst I was in Ireland, that's four consecutive dry days!).
I think I've developed an 'autopilot' or 'flight' mode. I took two flights one from Cork to London and then a connection to New York yet I remember nothing about who sat next to me on the flights, whether I slept or not, watched films or ate the food. It is probably for the best, I am eight flights down, still six to go....
Impressed that you can see that famous Manhattan skyline from JFK airport I caught the subway (not the underground or tube now I'm on this side of the pond) to my digs in the very west of the West Village. If you want to get very specific it could also be called the Lower Meatpacking District or Upper Greenwich Village so little is the distance between these defined areas. Right on the Hudson River the Jane Hotel was built to accommodate sailors whilst ashore, I thought that when on dry land they would prefer rooms that were a little less cabin-like but hey the single bed and petite proportions suited me perfectly! The hotel housed survivors from the Titanic and has a quirky mix of taxidermied animals in the foyer and hotel bar and rich marble and brass fittings throughout. I love it!
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