After three and a half months of my summer work in the bakery, it was finally time to pack my bags and travel to New York City.
Going to New York City from New Hampshire is a long journey (that is, if you're eco-friendly, or in other words, poor). It's a six hour bus ride, but the thing that makes it really lame is that it only takes five hours to get to Manhattan... And another hour to 34th street. I had a backpack, a handbag, a huge paper bag and a suitcase that was about to explode. To top it off, it was already dark by the time the bus got to the station, and it was, of course, raining. Fortunately, all I had to do was to go to the nearest subway station and take one of the trains north. This sounds a lot easier than it actually was. I accidentally took the express train, which didn't stop at my station. I had to get off at 125th street, walk upstairs (why are there no elevators?), walk downstairs again and take the southbound train. This time, the right one!
Somehow, I made it to the hostel. No elevator, of course. I drag all my luggage to the room... and the room, if you can picture it, looks like this: plastic chair - empty space - window - bunk bed - locker. At this point, I started asking myself: did you really have to do this, Tanja? Did you really need this trip to NYC to happen? Can't you just wait until you get a real job, earn some real money and actually afford a hotel when you travel?
No. I just HAD to go sleep in a cheap hostel. I shouldn't say cheap, though. Cheap-er, that's what it was. Being afraid of leaving your valuables in the room while you're taking a shower really is part of the fun.
