Day 8: Sic transit Gloria Boise

I hate goodbyes.

Although the stopover in Boise was short, it was fabulous. The tourist stuff was enjoyable, but the most memorable times were with my family.

I haven't discussed many of the family moments. The best times were small, passing "had to be there" moments that don't translate well into blog posts. That, and because talking about family can be like talking about dreams - endlessly fascinating to you, not so much to other people.

After a seven year gap it could have all gone horribly wrong. Sometimes I try too hard to make it the "perfect time". Nice in theory, but I've found that there aren't any perfect times. I'm getting better at living with the times I have, and just enjoying the good times when they come.

This was a good time.

In some ways it was a bit sad, seeing how much Alycia and Jamie have grown-up, and realising how much of their lives I've missed. Although adults don't change as dramatically, seven years is still seven years, and they're seven years I won't get back.

On the plus side, we spent most of the week together, spent a lot of time talking as well as touring, and we weren't around so long they got sick of us. Well, me - nobody gets sick of Emma.

We managed to fly out without any of us bursting into tears. That was a good thing too.

Goodbye, Boise, Rocks and Smiths.

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The flight was suitably uneventful. We landed on-time in Chicago, with a stunning view of the skyline on our approach. Emma had the best view, but I still managed to snap this:

More incredibly I found an airline food service that even slower than the Starbucks in Honolulu. Quinsoz or somesuch thing, that took about 20 minutes to make a club sandwich. At least the sandwich was decent.

Oh, well. At least the terminal was pretty.

The TVs at the terminal were full of news about the explosives enroute to Chicago, with the news channels foaming at the mouth in terror about the implications. Now I'm not trying to trivialise the incident - bombs are serious stuff - but is it really helpful to be on the verge of hysteria? I'm not convinced.

While the Chicago approach was impressive, the flight into New York was jaw-dropping. Perfectly clear skies a few hours after sunset, with Manhattan right off the port wing. If I had a decent camera I would have filled a memory card with photos.

Our taxi-driver was from Liberia. I knew I'd like him when Emma tried to carry her suitcase to the taxi and he yelled "ma'am, don't you dare touch that bag!" - with a huge smile.

He turned the taxi-ride was into a mini-tour of the city, telling us about the taxis (14,000 in NYC), that New York is made up of five boroughs (Manhattan, Queens, Brooklyn, the Bronx and Staten Island), that the Triboro bridge was so named because it connected three boroughs (Queens, Manhattan and the Bronx), and more.

Most of the way in Emma just grinned. Her first impression of New York was on the positive side.

The drive in through Times Square just made the grin bigger.

Our hotel was the Westin in Times Square. A perfect location for tourists on foot, and the rooms were more than acceptable.

We went down for a drink, and looked out the window the businesses still trading at 11pm: a comedy club, a 24 hour pharmacy, a souvenir shop, an adult DVD store, countless restaurants, an electronics shop, plus countless spruikers pitching to the dozens of passerbys. many in Halloween costumes. Very New York, and we loved it.

Emma fell asleep with the grin still stuck to her face.