Flying to San Francisco.
Enschede, Kilometers travelled: 0
After a restless night I got up at 6:30, feeling rather active, considering I only had a few hours of sleep. It must be the all the excitement from the great Californian adventure that lies ahead. Me and my girlfriend Shanna prepared some food for the journey, waited for my travel mate Bart to arrive, and drove to the Hengelo train station. We hugged and kissed each other to death and said goodbye. Bart and I were off to Schiphol Airport.
Amsterdam, Kilometers travelled: 200
A two hour train ride usually seems to last forever, but being prepared for a day’s travel, we arrived at Schiphol very quickly. The airport was already busy; lots of people running around with suitcase, or waiting for their loved ones to arrive. A marine with a bulletproof vest and a submachine gun was found at every corner, observing travelers as if they are Bin Laden himself. I guess 9-11 really changed the world we live in. We checked in at the most grumpy lady Schiphol had to offer, and proceeded to customs. Before boarding the plane we were cross-examined by a security employee as to the purpose of our visit and the contents of our suitcase. Clearly a case of guilty until proven innocent. We had to complete several visa forms, issued by the department of homeland security. I couldn’t help worrying about what it would be like to clear customs at the Big Apple.
The Continental airplane seated around 250 people, each had their own TV with ten movie channels, twenty radio stations and a game-console. The seats were comfortable and even had some legroom to spare. Even the meals were very tasty. But even the most comfortable chairs, and extensive in-flight entertainment will not suffice for a eight hour flight. Sleeping was not an option with all the noise and light. The only ‘contact’ with other passengers was waiting in line for the restrooms and a rather disturbing glimpse on the gay magazine of the guy in front of us. With 900 kilometers an hour, we quickly passed England, saw the beautiful westcoast of Ireland, tipped the north pole with its sea full if icebergs, had a view of Canada and finally landed in Newark, New York. So far we have only seen english speaking countries.
New York, Kilometers travelled: ?
Even though we are model citizens, the unfriendly Amsterdam customs experience made us nervous. Not knowing what to expect we walked up to the DHS booth, showed the officer our passport and the I-94W visa form, had our picture taken with a webcam, and got a fingerprint scan. It was all very official, but not a scary experience at all! One stamp later we could enter U.S. soil, or so we thought. First thing to do is claim all baggage and pass some more officers. Turn over our suitcases to the US Agricultural Inspection, and retrieve them again. Then we were summoned by a female inmate -At least that is what se looked like with her tattoos, clothing, accent and attitude- to unlock and dump our suitcases at the conveyor belt. Now we were free to access new york, if we had the time. Now, we had to pass customs for our domestic flight. Over 200 people were waiting in line with an officer telling us we needed to deposit our sweater, belts, shoes and bags in a crate, to be scanned. He called at me, and asked something about my socks. Not hearing what he said in this hectic situation, I lifted up my feet. He responded with a big smile: “You are okay Sir. I’m just checking: you got to have matching socks” Humor, not something you would expect from someone in uniform at customs. Arriving in New York is much less intimidating and scary than one would expect.
We had three more hours to spend at the airport. The NY skyline was impressive, everyone has seen it on television over a thousand times, so it is nice to finally see it in real life. We stopped at several shops, they have the same books and magazines as in The Netherlands, even the people look the same. Quite a contrast from Amsterdam, where we could spot Texans without any trouble. The connecting flight to San Francisco was is an overcrowded, tiny airplane with no legroom, sitting shoulder to shoulder. Bart and I both had seats in the middle of a row, which meant no window, and no isle to extend our feet. To make things worse, we had a two hour delay on the runway itself! During flight we experienced heavy turbulence. Luckily I had friendly people sitting next to me: a Texan woman and a black man from San Francisco. Me and the man talked about the USA, history, slavery, university and the Netherlands for several hours. I finally got so tired from traveling, I could sleep.
San Francisco, Kilometers travelled: 1/2 a world.
Flying into the bay area at night was impressive with all the lights. After a smooth landing we collected our luggage and took a Shuttle Van to the Green Tortoise hostel. I felt like I was in a movie: yellow cabs, steep streets and lots of lights. We stopped in what seems a redlight district,we had arrived at our hostel. Thai massage, swedish erotica, clubs, lounge bars and people hanging out on the street make for an interesting scenery. The first hostel guest we encountered walked right out of a sixties movie. We checked in, got our room key, two bed sheets and two towels: one with pink animals and one with ugly colors. The sheets have seen better days, so has the hostel. The mattresses are uncomfortable and the sink is rusty. But after traveling for nearly 30 hours, all we want to do is sleep.
After a restless night I got up at 6:30, feeling rather active, considering I only had a few hours of sleep. It must be the all the excitement from the great Californian adventure that lies ahead. Me and my girlfriend Shanna prepared some food for the journey, waited for my travel mate Bart to arrive, and drove to the Hengelo train station. We hugged and kissed each other to death and said goodbye. Bart and I were off to Schiphol Airport.
Amsterdam, Kilometers travelled: 200
A two hour train ride usually seems to last forever, but being prepared for a day’s travel, we arrived at Schiphol very quickly. The airport was already busy; lots of people running around with suitcase, or waiting for their loved ones to arrive. A marine with a bulletproof vest and a submachine gun was found at every corner, observing travelers as if they are Bin Laden himself. I guess 9-11 really changed the world we live in. We checked in at the most grumpy lady Schiphol had to offer, and proceeded to customs. Before boarding the plane we were cross-examined by a security employee as to the purpose of our visit and the contents of our suitcase. Clearly a case of guilty until proven innocent. We had to complete several visa forms, issued by the department of homeland security. I couldn’t help worrying about what it would be like to clear customs at the Big Apple.
The Continental airplane seated around 250 people, each had their own TV with ten movie channels, twenty radio stations and a game-console. The seats were comfortable and even had some legroom to spare. Even the meals were very tasty. But even the most comfortable chairs, and extensive in-flight entertainment will not suffice for a eight hour flight. Sleeping was not an option with all the noise and light. The only ‘contact’ with other passengers was waiting in line for the restrooms and a rather disturbing glimpse on the gay magazine of the guy in front of us. With 900 kilometers an hour, we quickly passed England, saw the beautiful westcoast of Ireland, tipped the north pole with its sea full if icebergs, had a view of Canada and finally landed in Newark, New York. So far we have only seen english speaking countries.
New York, Kilometers travelled: ?
Even though we are model citizens, the unfriendly Amsterdam customs experience made us nervous. Not knowing what to expect we walked up to the DHS booth, showed the officer our passport and the I-94W visa form, had our picture taken with a webcam, and got a fingerprint scan. It was all very official, but not a scary experience at all! One stamp later we could enter U.S. soil, or so we thought. First thing to do is claim all baggage and pass some more officers. Turn over our suitcases to the US Agricultural Inspection, and retrieve them again. Then we were summoned by a female inmate -At least that is what se looked like with her tattoos, clothing, accent and attitude- to unlock and dump our suitcases at the conveyor belt. Now we were free to access new york, if we had the time. Now, we had to pass customs for our domestic flight. Over 200 people were waiting in line with an officer telling us we needed to deposit our sweater, belts, shoes and bags in a crate, to be scanned. He called at me, and asked something about my socks. Not hearing what he said in this hectic situation, I lifted up my feet. He responded with a big smile: “You are okay Sir. I’m just checking: you got to have matching socks” Humor, not something you would expect from someone in uniform at customs. Arriving in New York is much less intimidating and scary than one would expect.
We had three more hours to spend at the airport. The NY skyline was impressive, everyone has seen it on television over a thousand times, so it is nice to finally see it in real life. We stopped at several shops, they have the same books and magazines as in The Netherlands, even the people look the same. Quite a contrast from Amsterdam, where we could spot Texans without any trouble. The connecting flight to San Francisco was is an overcrowded, tiny airplane with no legroom, sitting shoulder to shoulder. Bart and I both had seats in the middle of a row, which meant no window, and no isle to extend our feet. To make things worse, we had a two hour delay on the runway itself! During flight we experienced heavy turbulence. Luckily I had friendly people sitting next to me: a Texan woman and a black man from San Francisco. Me and the man talked about the USA, history, slavery, university and the Netherlands for several hours. I finally got so tired from traveling, I could sleep.
San Francisco, Kilometers travelled: 1/2 a world.
Flying into the bay area at night was impressive with all the lights. After a smooth landing we collected our luggage and took a Shuttle Van to the Green Tortoise hostel. I felt like I was in a movie: yellow cabs, steep streets and lots of lights. We stopped in what seems a redlight district,we had arrived at our hostel. Thai massage, swedish erotica, clubs, lounge bars and people hanging out on the street make for an interesting scenery. The first hostel guest we encountered walked right out of a sixties movie. We checked in, got our room key, two bed sheets and two towels: one with pink animals and one with ugly colors. The sheets have seen better days, so has the hostel. The mattresses are uncomfortable and the sink is rusty. But after traveling for nearly 30 hours, all we want to do is sleep.
posted by Branko | 1:25 PM
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