...Something quite fabulous happened. I got on a plane. By myself. For the first time, I flew to the United States of America. Rob was in New York for the full week, and he and everyone else twisted my arm to go out there for the weekend.
So, a very early start and I arrived at Heathrow with a heap of time to spare. I'd heard amazing things about Gordon Ramsay's Plane Food, so with 3 hours at least until being fed on the plane, I decided breakfast was in order. The Eggs Florentine I ordered were the best I've ever had. The portion size was spot on so that I felt full but not stuffed.
The BA flight was full, but the time passed quickly. Again, the food was excellent, I was pretty impressed that we weren't fed too much as on some flights I've been on. So I arrived feeling ok, and the customs man was nice to me and made me smile, and they let me in so that was all great!
I was a little tired since I don't sleep on planes, but an hour in a taxi later and I was at the beautiful Bryant Park Hotel. The view out of the window was of the ice rink in Bryant Park and the lovely little stalls of handmade goods. The room itself was a suite and it was enormous, with an equally beautiful and huge bathroom. And I slept so well on the first night which is something I rarely manage.
After Rob finished work, we headed out locally for a meetup with a few old friends from the London office and a couple of beers and I felt very quickly at home, and had Manhattan pegged as something between London and Sydney. Somewhat familiar but with a few things to get used to at the same time. But I was excited for the weekend rather than petrified of being in a place I didn't know. Go me.