For what felt like an eternity, the dream of visiting America was just that—a dream. It existed as a far-off, shimmering idea we'd discuss on rainy Tuesday afternoons, a "one day" promise that felt more like a fantasy than a future plan. For years, the realities of life kept that dream firmly on the shelf. A tight budget seemed to be a permanent fixture, and the long road of Jane's multiple surgeries and recoveries meant that our world, for a time, became much smaller. The idea of navigating a bustling foreign city felt like a world away from the quiet focus of healing and making ends meet. But then, in 2012, a window of opportunity finally opened. The finances settled, health improved, and suddenly "one day" was no longer a distant wish—it was a date circled in red on the calendar.
Why New York? Honestly, we were completely sold by the Hollywood version. We'd seen it a million times on TV – the dazzling lights of Times Square, the iconic skyline, the sheer glitz and glamour of it all. It felt like a world away from our life in the UK, and frankly, we wanted a piece of that magic. Plus, from a practical standpoint, the sheer number of flights meant it was a surprisingly affordable first dip into international travel. This wasn't just our first trip to the USA; it was our first time setting foot outside the UK.
Our journey from the 14th to the 22nd of November was set to be an adventure in every sense of the word. Being in our forties and never having been on a plane before, the prospect of an eight-hour flight was a novelty in itself, not to mention navigating the organised chaos of airport security and immigration. You can't help but feel a bit out of your depth, a sense that you're the only one who doesn't know the secret handshake. And being so far from home for the first time, the "what if something goes wrong?" thoughts definitely made a guest appearance.
I channelled my energy into meticulous planning. Given that we weren't as mobile as we'd like to be, securing a central hotel with easy access to the subway was non-negotiable. My evenings were spent with plotting routes between the must-see tourist attractions. I had a schedule, a backup schedule, and probably a backup for the backup schedule. I was determined to make our precious eight days count.
That first breath of foreign air upon stepping outside the airport was a strange and memorable sensation, a tangible dividing line between the world we knew and the adventure we were beginning. But even that was nothing compared to the sensory overload of arriving in the heart of the city. To say it felt like another world is an understatement; it was like landing on another planet, one that ran on pure energy and ambition. The scale of the buildings, the symphony of traffic, the sheer density of people—it was overwhelming and exhilarating all at once.
Our trip wasn't without its hitches, and we navigated a few moments where a full-blown disaster felt tantalisingly close. But we got through it, and every challenge simply added another layer to the story. This holiday was so much more than a simple getaway; it was the journey that ignited a passion we never knew we had, marking the first of many unforgettable trips across America.
