This day took me from a New York suburb in New Jersey down to Philadelphia and into a baseball park to watch a Phillies game. Not only did I have motor vehicle travel adventures but my flight adventures or lack of flight adventures also continued in a way that made my figurative wallet hurt.
While the hotel I found the night before did not offer free breakfast, I still had gift card money loaded on my Starbucks card. After the hassles of the night before, I slept well, getting up to an alarm set in hopes of providing enough time for a walk to Starbucks and a leisurely breakfast before catching the shuttle back to the airport. I planned to take the airport train from there to the Amtrak station.
I kept my tourist hat on, discretely of course, as I walked, taking in surroundings that hours earlier I had no idea I would have the opportunity to see. I ended up finding a little, hidden (to me) gem of a park directly across the street from Starbucks and visited it briefly after picking up my breakfast and coffee to get a closer look at the statues and plaques near the entrance. Much more, I think, lay beyond that entrance but I had to get back to the hotel with enough time to catch the shuttle back to the airport.
Since I unpacked only a handful of items the previous night, I had my bag all ready to go when I got back to my room. A few minutes later, I made my way down to the front desk where I discovered that I should have requested the shuttle the night before according to their policy but they would try to squeeze me in. Well good because nowhere on the hotel’s own description does it mention that little detail and I had a train to catch. Despite the unpleasant demeanor of the hotel employee, I made it onto the shuttle and back to the airport just under 12 hours after I left it the night before.
If I understood the system better, I would attempt to explain it. I will not for the sake of avoiding confusion. I made my way into the airport, the airport with all of its shops located before security, and boarded the same train I would take to get to another terminal only I kept riding past that terminal and the parking areas all the way to the Amtrak station. After disembarking, I headed down some stairs to the platform waiting area feeling like a train travel pro after a month in Europe, a bit of a snobbish pro too since European railway systems, even Renfe, make Amtrak pale in comparison.
While I waited about fifteen minutes, I played a bit of Wizards Unite and contemplated what might have happened if the hotel employee had not reluctantly found a spot for me on that airport shuttle. When the train arrived, I made my way into the silent car and did my best to attempt to catch up on journaling on the quick, less than an hour ride, into Philadelphia. When I emerged into the large train station, I should have had no difficulty finding the correct metro platform to ride to the airport to meet Dad when he arrived. Yet, the first two times I followed Google directions, much easier to access now that I was stateside, I could not find it. Finally, I asked an employee near one of the large doors. This man went out of his way to personally show me where I could find the kiosk to purchase the ticket and when that did not work, showed me a ticket counter. He returned to his post but asked eagerly if I had had success when I came back that direction. He also directed me to the bus I needed to take since the line that led to the airport was under renovation. If only more city transport workers, people in genera really, showed that level of eagerness to help.
Having never flown into or out of the Philadelphia airport before, I did not know which terminal at which Dad’s flight would arrive, only the airline. I got off at Terminal A only to discover that the smaller planes for that airline flew into Terminal F. I got in quite a few steps as I walked along the outside edge of the airport from Terminal A to Terminal F.
It felt like such a relief when I saw Dad arrive. After a month on my own, I finally had someone to share my travels with. I also did not have to deal with public transportation any more since we picked up a rental car to use for the next couple days. Dad drove us from the airport to our airbnb. As is often the case with streets designed prior to the advent of the automobile, we faced many one way streets and confusing misdirections, only a handful of them the fault of our GPS.
When looking at the airbnb listing which Dad had chosen, I had some apprehension but did not mind imperfection as long as we had a decent place to stay. We dropped off our stuff and headed out for lunch. Before we left, however, I gave Dad his gifts, saving the Gouda for last. Like I predicted, he absolutely loved it and periodically throughout the trip exclaimed at random times that he had a wheel of Gouda in his bag.
After a quick Google search, we found a possible place for lunch and headed out in the drizzle. I mentally crossed my fingers and hoped that these clouds would get this out of their system before the game since it up half of the whole reason we came to Philadelphia in the first place. We chose a place called The Middle Child, a sandwich restaurant. I think it may have been a specialty grilled cheese sandwich shop but I don’t remember for sure.
From the moment we walked into the restaurant until the moment we left, we had an awesome time. Since we came about half an hour before they closed (they didn’t serve dinner) they didn’t have a few things but the owner, who greeted us when we came in, assured us that whatever we picked from the remaining options would not disappoint. He proved to be a man of his word. Both Dad and I chose sandwiches practically dripping with cheese, something we both love, which meant frequent reliance on napkins as we talked. Well, I did most of the talking since I had plenty of stories to share from the past month.
Much to our relief, the rain stopped by the time we finally let the restaurant. We headed back to our airbnb but stopped at a grocery store along the way to pick up snacks and breakfast for the next day for our mini road trip to Gettysburg. We also picked up a box fan since our airbnb had no air-conditioning. (I noticed it on the listing but Dad missed it.) Neither one of us do well in stuffy, summer conditions. As we put the groceries away and prepared to chill for a little while before heading to the game, I encountered quite the frustration, compounded by an extremely rude customer service worker and her equally rude supervisor.
When I sat down to check my email, I found a notice stating that my return flight in a little over a day had been cancelled. I initially laughed at the irony of yet another flight to Greenville had cancelled on me. Then, I read the email again and noticed that it did not say anything about Dad’s ticket. He still had a ticket. I did not because I had not taken the outbound flight on the ticket. Of course, I called to explain but ran into problems that took the form of excuses like they didn’t know why I didn’t show up and I was at fault for scheduling the trips so close together, like I can control the weather.
This phone call and resulting exasperation took up our rest time, we ended up hurrying out the door to make it to the game. We left the car in the parking garage and took public transit to the game.
Dad splurged a little on the ticket as a birthday present for me, about a month delayed, so we got to enjoy a section that I think they called the Hall of Fame. This section had a long indoor air-conditioned corridor complete with separate shops and concessions. They had all sorts of displays too of Phillies history. Of course I loved that. The seats themselves were not box seats, just sections of normal seats outdoor, off the corridor.
Our time at the game passed quickly, accompanied by the usual assortment of oddball fans and ballpark concessions. All too soon the game came to a conclusion and we had to head back to our un-air-conditioned airbnb to attempt sleep made possible by the ceiling fan in the bedroom for me and the recently purchased box fan in the living room for Dad on the couch. A full day of historical adventures awaited int the morning.