212 Miles
Left Boston: 11:00 am
Arrived NYC: (Lower Manhattan) 4:25pm
I left Boston not really feeling good about stuff. It had been a very long night. And of the entire road in front of me, this part scared me the most. I had been warned about the drivers in New York City. Its do or die there… eat or be eaten… Stand or fall. No place for wimps. Not for the faint of heart.
Part of the problem was timing. Checkout at the Milner Hotel was 11:00 am, and check in at the hotel in New York was not until 4:00 pm. It was only a three-hour trip from Boston to New York.
I decided to take my chances anyway. I figured the earlier I made into the city, the less I would have to worry about Rush Hour on a Friday afternoon in the worlds 6th largest city. I did stop a couple of times for rest and nourishment. The traffic on the highway was not too terrible, although I did have one unfortunate tussle with a lane of “cash only” traffic on the Massachusetts Turnpike. Why? Why? Why? Would they ever put a toll booth on the top of a bridge, where all the pay for cash traffic has to suddenly veer right (under construction) and then a sharp left….to get to the “cash only” (one lane) booth? Again, several fingers and gestures flew my way, as I had to brake into the line waiting to pay the toll.
I thought to myself… this is what the highway to hell must be like!
It wasn’t Hell. It was New York City! And, this time I let the GPS do the talking. Once across the Queensboro bridge (Stands for “Boro of Queens”) I was pretty much a slave to the GPS.
It didn’t help that because the U.N. was in session with all the world’s dignitaries (and Not-so dignitaries: I’m thinking of Kadfi’s rant at the U.N.), many of the roads were blocked off and there was NO detours to anywhere. “Up-dating Route…” was what my GPS kept telling me.
I wound my way around and down the slim island of Manhattan, until I was only three blocks away from Broadway. It’s was actually quite easy, as on the South tip of the island, the blocks are all numbers (North/ South) or easy to remember names (East/ West). The motel parking was right next-door at a place called “Meyer’s Parking” and I found the place easily and I was soon toting my luggage into the Casablana Hotel.
The Casablanca Hotel: Well, the pictures did not do the place justice I’ll say that. At the enterance way there was a well-suited young man that asked me, “Will we be staying at the Casablanca Hotel today?”
Left Boston: 11:00 am
Arrived NYC: (Lower Manhattan) 4:25pm
I left Boston not really feeling good about stuff. It had been a very long night. And of the entire road in front of me, this part scared me the most. I had been warned about the drivers in New York City. Its do or die there… eat or be eaten… Stand or fall. No place for wimps. Not for the faint of heart.
Part of the problem was timing. Checkout at the Milner Hotel was 11:00 am, and check in at the hotel in New York was not until 4:00 pm. It was only a three-hour trip from Boston to New York.
I decided to take my chances anyway. I figured the earlier I made into the city, the less I would have to worry about Rush Hour on a Friday afternoon in the worlds 6th largest city. I did stop a couple of times for rest and nourishment. The traffic on the highway was not too terrible, although I did have one unfortunate tussle with a lane of “cash only” traffic on the Massachusetts Turnpike. Why? Why? Why? Would they ever put a toll booth on the top of a bridge, where all the pay for cash traffic has to suddenly veer right (under construction) and then a sharp left….to get to the “cash only” (one lane) booth? Again, several fingers and gestures flew my way, as I had to brake into the line waiting to pay the toll.
I thought to myself… this is what the highway to hell must be like!
It wasn’t Hell. It was New York City! And, this time I let the GPS do the talking. Once across the Queensboro bridge (Stands for “Boro of Queens”) I was pretty much a slave to the GPS.
It didn’t help that because the U.N. was in session with all the world’s dignitaries (and Not-so dignitaries: I’m thinking of Kadfi’s rant at the U.N.), many of the roads were blocked off and there was NO detours to anywhere. “Up-dating Route…” was what my GPS kept telling me.
I wound my way around and down the slim island of Manhattan, until I was only three blocks away from Broadway. It’s was actually quite easy, as on the South tip of the island, the blocks are all numbers (North/ South) or easy to remember names (East/ West). The motel parking was right next-door at a place called “Meyer’s Parking” and I found the place easily and I was soon toting my luggage into the Casablana Hotel.
The Casablanca Hotel: Well, the pictures did not do the place justice I’ll say that. At the enterance way there was a well-suited young man that asked me, “Will we be staying at the Casablanca Hotel today?”
Here is the Web site for the Hotel: http://www.casablancahotel.com/
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