Day Two- ‘Its a 20 minute cab ride from here’.

Jet lag made me feel very odd yesterday and so I ended up eating food,showering and then going to bed at about 9pm which is something I havent done since I was about 9 (the going to bed early bit,I had a shower when I was 11).

I woke up at 7am,the plan was to get my bike back from customs and ride it back home by midday so that I had the rest of the day to do touristy shit in New York. Breakfast was ‘continental’ so I had toast,weird American scrambled eggs that were far too yellow and a waffle made on a waffle iron by my own fair hands. I was joined at breakfast by what appeared to be a crack head,we watched fox news and he mumbled to himself.

To get my scooter back I first had to visit the customs office at JFK,front desk told me this was only about a 20 minute cab ride away so they called me a cab and off I went. I tried making conversation with the driver but he didnt really have much to say for himself except shouting YES out of the window at every girl that walked past.

It soon became very clear that he had absolutely no idea where he was going,it became even clearer when he asked me if I had GPS on my phone. He called his office to ask for advice and they told him to follow the signs,one thing I have learnt in my short time in the US is that road signage is rubbish.

We ended up at some port authority place and he called a guy over to ask for the directions. The guy returned with a map,they conversed in Haitian (French) for a while and then off we went down the road we had just driven down.

We drove for another half an hour with him asking me which way to go every five minutes before we pulled over again and he told me to go and ask a bunch of bin men for further directions. They didnt know where this place was either so we set off back the way we had came,this time with me sat in the front so that I could help him guess where to go.

After about an hour and a half I had enough and told him to just drop me at the airport so I could find my own way. He tried to talk me out of it but I was having none of it. He then asked what terminal I wanted to go to,it took quite a lot of effort to not lose my cool in his hot taxi cab but I managed it and we parted ways after I gave him $35 dollars.

Somehow a 20 minute journey had turned into a 2 hour guessathon.

I headed into the airport to ask for directions and they didnt seem to know where the place was either. I eventually found someone who had a rough idea it was and two busses and a bit of a walk later I was there !

I queued up in the customs office and got talking to a bunch of ‘locals’. These guy import things in to the country every day so they all knew each other and new all the customs officers by name. They were friendly bunch and gave me some advice of what to say to the officer in order to get my stuff dealt with quickly and painlessly.

I had been dreading customs because I had heard stories of peoples bikes being refused entry for no apparent reason. In reality the guy just looked at my passport,V5 and air bill and then sent me on my way. I was slightly worried he was a bit like the taxi driver and didnt really know what he was doing but my new customs family friends reassured me it was as simple as that !

Now I had to find my way to the Virgin Cargo depot which was the other side of the air port. I asked a cop who was getting into his car for directions in the hope of him offering me a lift but he didn’t so I walked to the bus stop and got on another bus to catch another bus back to where I needed to be.

While waiting in the import office a massively fat guy walked in carrying a big tea chest type thing. The guy behind the desk told him that this was the import office and if he wanted to send the chest he would need to go to export office. Well it turns out he wasnt actually sending the chest he just carries it around to sit his fat ass on when he is waiting in queues !

The lady behind the counter was impressed with my plans and said she was going to follow my blog to keep track of my progress (hello lady,I cant remember your name but you afro weave was very impressive). The guys who helped me un-crate my bike thought I was an idiot for even attempting what I am attempting.

My scooter fired right up and I headed off with less than a litre of petrol to try and find a gas station. You’re probably a bit bored by now and this is going to be a long post so I will summaries this bit.

-Sat Navs lie and tell you that newsagents are gas stations.
-Being on big American roads five minutes after picking you scooter up with no idea when you are going to run out of fuel is scary.
-American petrol pumps are confusing.
-They sell two different lengths of marlboro  in America.
-Everyone thinks everyone from England lives in London and likes football. The guy in the shop was blown away by the fact that when it came to me neither were true.
-Getting lost in a place that two New Yorkers have told you is rough is scary.

I eventually made it back to the hotel safely,riding on the wrong side of the road isnt too difficult. Its just like riding on the left but in reverse,funny that.

It was no 3pm and I was planning to go to bed at 9pm because I am up at 2am tomorrow to beat the New York Traffic. I still had a few hours to head to Manhattan to do some tourist crap if I was quick. The front desk girl gave me a subway map and some directions (she didnt even know where the hotel was on the map so I mostly ignored her) and I headed out to the mean streets of Jamaica.

Again I will cut this long story short.
-Never follow directions from people who dont even know where they work is on the map.
-American signage is rubbish.
-Being unaware that you could be murdermugged at any moment is comforting.
-Walking around lost for an hour and a half in the hot New York heat makes your feet hurt.
-Not making it to Manhattan is disappointing but I will have time to see all the sights on the way back,even if I have to change my flight again to do so.

I eventually gave up and came back to the hotel for some food,a shower,to pack and check over the scooter (its leaking oil and customs chucked away my bottle of spare oil GREAT). I had to leave the scooter out in the car park out front,it turns out when I charmed the desk lady into letting me store it in the lobby she thought I was talking about a push bike. Its under a security camera so I am telling myself it will be fine. If it gets stolen at least I can spend the next 24 days seeing the sights of Manhattan.

Tomorrow I get up at 2am and ride to a place called York about 160 miles away via a place called Hellam and the worlds largest shoe !

P.s sorry about the lack of photos its been a stressful,scary frustrating and hot day. Ill get some more tomorrow,promise.

P.P.S I dont think I have brought enough clothes. I just washed my pants in the sink and am currently drying them on the AC.