Text 16901, 121 rader
Skriven 2014-09-11 16:36:00 av MICHAEL LOO (1:123/140)
Ärende: BsAs trip 948 end
=========================
CM 453 EZE PTY 0100 0622 738 2A

When I got to gate 7 in the old terminal, boarding was in
full swing. I ensconced myself in my seat and gave my order
to the attendant - the 12-year-old rum (name forgotten) neat
in a snifter or equivalent with my snack, then the same
with breakfast.

Of course, I slept through the snack. When I awoke, it was
time for breakfast - some fruit (not bad), some yogurt
(didn't try), some bread (ditto), and a very tiny bacon
and cheese burrito that actually tasted like food, though it
was very salty. Along with this came orange juice (not good)
and a highball glass that contained 3 oz of unidentified
rum, about the same amount of Coke, a wheel and a wedge of
lime, and some ice. It actually tasted okay with breakfast
once I fished out the ice.

We pulled up to the gate right on time, and I was relieved
to see my next plane already sitting there a few spots away.

Three hours at the Copa Club, during which I consumed one
(1) glass of red plonk and spent the rest of the time
catching up on correspondence, including BBSes. Did I say
that breakfast here is negligible? It is.

UA1022 PTY EWR 1005 1626 738 8C

Okay, I was on an M fare and used a RPU. Never cleared. I
think they must have offered upgrades for poco bucks, as
right at the end the front cabin was filled with a bunch of
20-something rowdies who spent the flight roaming the aisle
and making loud sports-fan-type noises.

My seat was okay, actually roomier than the seats in front
until people started congregating in my foot space, kicking
me and stepping on my feet as though I were not there at
all. This got kind of old, as many of these folks were not
waiting to use the rest room just anead of me but rather
wanted relief from their Economy Minus seats in the wayback
and so were not inclined to move on.

A chicken and cheese sandwich was offered as buy-on-board,
and the usual run of beverages. I had nothing. We landed a
bit early but waited around for a long time for our ramp
personnel to get their act together.

Immigration was a snap - not much of a line (none for me
with Global, even though it was glitched up as it often is
for me), and I was out and at the hotel shuttle pickup in
moments.

Hilton Newark Airport is another mixed-review hotel. At such
I tend to do okay, because my expectations are circumscribed
by, well, the reality of the situation.

The top-floor room they gave me was nice, newly refurbished,
small but clean bathroom, view of the tarmac (and the road
between us and it). My only complaint that the water tasted
and smelled horrible; but then they gave me a couple bottles
of purified to tide me over.

I thought of walking down to one of the restaurants that are
supposed to be about a mile away, but not having learned
from a previous visit I set off down the highway and found,
as I should have remembered, that there was no sidewalk, and
a sixty-something legally blind guy shouldn't be in such a
situation after or even before dinner. So I turned back and
went to The Newarker in the hotel. Restaurant Associates
once had a place by that name in the airport, and it had a
wonderful reputation, but that's ancient history. I don't
know if the current one was so named out of homage to that
restaurant or if it is just the obvious name. Anyhow, I
plopped myself down expecting to drop way too much money on
some beef stew from a boil-in-bag.

I had a welcome Sam and listened to the spiel of the rather
cheeky waiter, who pushed the tagliatelle Bolognese in a
peculiarly emphatic way. I asked if the short ribs (same
description as at other Hiltons, also the same price, a
suspicious circumstance) were good, and he replied, oh,
yes, they are good, but the Bolognese is better. So what was
I to do? I ordered the Bolognese ($9 cheaper than the short
ribs). The noodles, said to be made in house, were a bit
limp textured, seemingly cooked in insufficiently hot water.
The sauce, though, was really good - pretty much the way I
make it, only with bigger chunks of carrot (I grate or mince
mine). A cheap and unaged excuse for Parmesan on top, sad to
say. I asked for a few red pepper flakes to disguise this
shortcoming: an ounce came, of which I ended up using half.

The bill with Sam was precisely what the short ribs without
Sam would have cost. I tipped the guy on the larger price
(with Sam).

2V 171 EWR BWI 1257 1544

Back to P4 and then to the Newark Liberty railroad station,
where the Amtrak came right on time, and there were still
plenty of seats in the quiet car, with working AC outlets
and semi-working wi-fi, so all was well.

We rolled into my destination station ten late, which made
my bus connection (1600 departure) slightly chancy. Luckily
the bus left a couple minutes late.

I'd scheduled just enought time to pick up my prescriptions
and make sure the bills were all paid, and planned to wander
off again as soon as possible, but my brother had taken a
fall and gone unconscious, so there was the issue of whether
he'd had a concussion and whether there was anything to be
worried about about that. Two doctors' appointments made
sure he was functional, but I nonetheless spent a couple
days watching him eagle-eyed to verify that he'd not knocked
the remainder of his brains out.



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