Stuck on Long Island

This is a mini series of posts entitled "Stuck on Long Island: the Most &$-/;(& Expensive Layover of my Life"

-SUNDAY-

As many of you know, Chris and I live approximately 7500 miles away from my family in Georgia. Most days that’s okay. During the holidays, however (especially on my mom’s year to have us for Christmas), well, being on the opposite side of the world is just unacceptable.

Being the awesome, loving, and thoughtful daughter that I am, I decided to physically BE my mom’s Christmas present this year by booking a ticket to come home. As a surprise. I was going to be home on the night of the 26th, making my grand entrance while all the family was gathered for day after Christmas festivities.

It was going to be so awesome. No one has ever pulled something that big on my mom before. I would officially be known as the master of surprises. Whoohoo for me!

Well, that’s how it was supposed to go.

Instead, the East Coast decided I needed to experience a Noreaster.

(that’s what a Noreaster looks like from above! We were descending in about 20 minutes of clouds before landing)

For people like my husband who do not know what Noreasters are (and for those who have some how managed to not turn on the television over the last 4 days to see the endless news reports), here’s a definition:

A nor'easter is a type of macro-scale storm along the East Coast of the United States and Atlantic Canada, so named because the storm travels to the northeast from the south and the winds come from the northeast. Nor'easters can be devastating and damaging, especially in the winter months. 

 

Devastating and damaging. That sounds about right!

This Nor’easter decided my flight home from JFK to Atlanta needed to be cancelled.

This consequently meant that it was also deemed necessary for me to spend so way too much money over the next 3 1/2 days. It was also apparently necessary for me to start  forming stomach ulcers due to high levels of stress. As if the autoimmune ones in my intestines aren’t meeting my ulcer quota!

Character building experience, right?

One life lesson I did learn though, you don’t need no stickin friction on those big tires to land an airplane. It’s all aerodynamics, baby. That’s why our plane was able to land and subsequently stop (you know, the important part) on Sunday night in the middle of a freakin blizzard.

Right after we landed I got a slew of texts from my family explaining that my flight had been cancelled and that a very good family friend (who I am now very indebted to) booked me on a flight for the following evening. After meandering through Customs on Sunday night (because hey, I wasn’t in any rush apparently!), I confirmed that I was booked on a plane for the following evening and that there was absolutely no way for me to get on an earlier flight. One night on Long Island, how bad could that be? It was a vacation in a vacation! My sister was kind enough to help me book a hotel.

Problem 1: How to I get to the hotel in a complete white-out?

Well, that involved getting over 100 pounds worth of luggage to the Taxi line. I decided a smartcarte would be a smart idea (hence the name smartcarte) , so I threw my bags on one, put on a second jacket and headed out to brave the elements.

That worked for about 5 minutes.

You see, pushing a luggage cart in 60 mile per hour winds and in a foot and a half of snow is kinda like deciding to take a stroll in quick sand during a tornado carrying a piece of 4’x8’ plywood. Even the New Yorkers were taking a pity on my ‘very tired lion pulling a dead gazelle’ appearance. An 81 year-old man with a cane offered to help (and was about to try)!! Shouldn’t I be offering to help him?! It was that bad. 

Funniest part about that- when the gentleman stood next to me and put his hands on the smartcarte and started to offer, his wife smacked him with her cane and said “HEEeerrB! You’re 81 years old Herb!” I kept thinking “No!  Go! Save yourself!”

After only moving about 15-20 feet closer to the taxi line in the course of 5 minutes, I was dead. While 5 minutes doesn’t sound that long,  in those 5 minutes I had enough wet snow hit my hair, initially melt, and then refreeze my hair for a wind blown look kind of like this.

It wasn’t pretty.

I just stopped. I began to prep myself for my eminent death outside of Terminal 4 of JFK due to exposure to the elements. You think I’m being dramatic. I know it. But there was freakin thunder snow in the middle of all of this! Have you ever heard of thunder snow?! It only happens in 1% of snow storms. I was so done. My stinkin hands were shaking from being awake for over 24 hours.

Death or taxi? 

Wait! There was a third option, right? Just go back inside and sleep in the airport! With a thousand other people… while managing to keep all your bags… hmm…

I had to get to that taxi line.

I convinced the fight components of my fight-or-flight responses to start pumping some epinephrine. In a true Grinch ‘my heart just grew three sizes so I can pick up a sleigh filled with toys to save Miss Betty Lou Who’ fashion, I threw a 50 pound bag on either shoulder, held my purse and 20 pound carry-on in my arms, and started walking.

When I get a ruptured thoracic disc at 30, I'll blame the New York blizzard of 2010.

Thankfully the Fates decided to spare my life as I managed to not slip on the snow over the course of the next 10 yards (considering I felt like I was carrying an elephant). Why the heck is the Taxi Line so far from the exit again?! After being in the line for a minute, I realized everyone was staring at me. I think it was because approximately 10 feet of snow fell in the time it took me to get to the line and I pretty much looked like this…

Then I waited. And waited. After about 15-20 minutes of waiting in line I got a finally got taxi. Did you know in China you can sit in the front seat of a taxi? You can’t do that in New York. I got lip for about 5 minutes when I went to open that door.

About half way through the ride I realized it was probably a good thing I wasn’t in the front seat, because I was slowly turning the cab in to a swimming pool while defrosting.

Also, did you know that while a hotel 8 miles from the airport is considered close by Atlanta standards, in New York it’s a little bit farther than an eternity away? Especially when your cabby can only go 20 miles per hour due to the weather. And since I was an idiot who hopped in a NYC yellow cab, the minute we crossed over in to Nassau County there was a $50 surcharge thrown on the cab fee.

I ended up having to shell out *gulp* about $10 a mile to get to my hotel. In Nanjing it’s only 15 CENTS A KILOMETER! That’s about a quarter a mile, plus a $1.50 flat fee in the beginning. What would have been a $3.50 cab fare in China, I ended up paying over 20 times that price.

I felt sick to my stomach. Maybe death outside terminal 4 wasn't such a bad idea after all?

At least until I got to the hotel.

... and then I felt like I was in a 5 star resort.

This time I had someone HELP me trudge my bags through the blizzard! Score!!

Another exciting development was that for the first time in 4 1/2 months, I was able to take a hot shower that lasted more than 10 minutes! It was amazing! There were over 50 channels IN ENGLISH as opposed to the 1 I’ve been watching. And the bed, woah. Don't get me started. It was a king size bed with a pillow top, people. The biggest bed you can get in China is a queen (I wish we were that lucky. Chris, Toby, and myself all smush in on a bed that’s just barely bigger than a US full). 

I was in heaven.

So much so that my body forgot what jet lag was an let me sleep until 6:30.

...another installment tomorrow!