Several of my friends hab planned a vacation to the US this year, which made me jealous. I realized it has been 9 (!) years since I set foot in my birth country, and I missed it. The main reasons for staying away so long were a) my mom got freaked of flying there after the terrorist attacks and, even more so, b) it costs money we didn’t have. So I asked around (hi Jo!) to get a ballpark number of how expensive such a vacation would be and then searched the internet for an affordable deal. After much debating and back and forth decisions, we had a plan. And then we had booked flights. And then hotels. And then a car (with GPS, of course). Finally, I bought a travel guide for the east coast – I knew we weren’t only going to be in Jersey, and even though it’s hard for me to admit, I would be a tourist. Hence, the excitement grew. And grew, and grew. I thought I was going to explode. Me – back in the states. With all that food.
Months before leaving I terrorized The BF with questions – what do you think it will be like? What do you want to do first? Aren’t you excited?! It would be his first time over the big pond, the poor guy, and his girlfriend was already going nuts. And then they killed Bin Laden.
I’m just gonna let that stand there and sink in a bit.
Then a few weeks went by, and then hurricane Irene headed north. Of course, normally, hurricanes never travel that far up the coast. But this time when it hit land, poor little Jersey got pummeled. And then it went on over New York and New England, exactly along the path we were going to travel along.
Oh, and had I mentioned? Our flight over was on September 10th. So we were getting there just in time for the tenth anniversary of 9/11… I’m starting to think only we have such timing.
And then… WE WERE OFF!