Big city, but why is it named after an apple?

Well, although it pains me to admit I lost a personal challenge this past February, but the world and a number of skeptical friends need to know the truth. Until February 1, 2013, I had never stepped foot into New York city, let alone seen it. For years, I have been heckled for it.

"What?!!.....You've never been there?" friends would gasp.
""You mean to tell me you've never even wanted to go?!...What's wrong with you?" another would add.

Well all this criticism led me to disgust the idea. Why do I need to go? Why should I? You know what, I bet I can go a lifetime without going to that city. So unto me, a challenge was born...and I accepted like a squire taking his oath before becoming a knight. To me this was serious, I have turned down multiple opportunities to take the 7 hour bus or 1 hour plain ride to the Big Apple. I was able to resist until this past February when my best friend Brian Foye- a resident of Boston- decided I should try to fly through his city on my way back to Colombia for my second semester. However, New York was the more viable option for this young fellow on a Masters student budget. So, I didn't see any good reason not to go through with the compromise. A week after our discussion, I booked the one-way ticket on Megabus for $30 to New York. I would ride into that city aboard my metal steed not as a knight; rather a young and defeated oath-breaker with his head hanging low.

To the contrary of this presumed notion, coming into New York- at night mind you- was pretty breathtaking. I had never been in a city like it after doing some extended travels of my own. It has it's own living and breathing identity, which I certainly haven't found anywhere else. Seeing Manhattan and it's skyline made me feel proud for a moment, even though I am not from the state or city, I believe every American who visits take some sort of pride in beholding it's presence.

After that, I got off the bus at our stated arrival time, around  8pm -that Megabus is like clockwork. Descending from the steel cabin, the cold icy wind hit my face like an abdominal snowman's sneeze. So I hunkered down close by, waiting for the arrival of my Bostonian friend in the most practical place one could imagine: Starbucks. I ordered my $1.87 cup of coffee and watched the other buses roll in. The first sip felt warm as it snaked down my esophagus to my gut, igniting the furnace that would warm up my cold bones.

An hour later, Brian's bus rolled up and I went out to greet him. He was dresses slightly warmer than I was, I  mean heck, I was on my way to Colombia, South America, I didn't have a winter jacket on.

"Hey! What's up Christian Bale?" was the first thing he said to me.

Pretty funny considering I was actually going for that look at the time, considering I was sporting a pretty grown beard at the time, which did look similar to the look Bale had when he won his Oscar last year for The Fighter. Here, what do you think?:

So, after a quick initial chat we wanted to escape the cold and  made our way to his buddy David's house in lower Manhattan in a cab. Dave is a friend of Brian's from prep school in Boston, they lived in the same dorm way back when and haven't seen each other in a while, but you could tell they were good friends and picked up right where they left off.

Dave was actually moving to a new place the next day in Brooklyn  and part of our deal to feel like we earned our free stay was to help him move his stuff in the next morning. Dave lived in a trendy part of Manhattan, lots of NYU students lived and went out here; here being around 7th street.

So after sitting down and rapping about life for a bit with beers in hand, we wanted to go out for a bit. We headed down to one of Dave's favorite bars, a more out of the way bar which wasn't very crowded for a Friday night. I was so tired and after three of four of the his heavier lager-like beers, I was kind of spinning. The only eventful thing to my recollection that happened that night was a girl ball-tapped Brian with a pool-cue and we never figured out if she was trying to flirt or actually smack him in his loins.

After the attack, it was time to get some of the best falafel in NYC- according to Dave. I must say after scarfing it down before we even got back to his place, continuing to chow down even though I couldn't feel my fingers at one point, I had to agree. Most falafel doesn't sit well with me after eating it. Usually gives me a little acidic reflex. But not this stuff baby, I went to bed without having to take any anti-acids or tums- I feel like I just sounded like my Grandpa.

The next day hit hard. My head was aching a bit, but Dave tossed us some vitamins and made some eggs- best host ever. After showering and getting refreshed, we stuffed Dave's car full of clothes, paintings, and other personal effects and headed to Brooklyn; listening to Big L all the way there. As we listened to the linguists unique style describing his life in New York, we couldn't help but get lost in his words, seeing that the stuff he was rapping about 20 years ago was happening around us as we drove through the city.

The move in was relatively quick, seeing 3 young strapping lads like ourselves were able to accomplish this feat in 30 minutes. The rest of the day we went back to Manhattan and saw some sights: WTC Memorial, Rockefeller Center, Grand Central Station, Statue of Liberty ferry ride to Staten Island, and of course Times Square. And yes, the one simple goal I had to do while I was in New York; grab as many slices of NYC cut pizza as I could stomach. Ever since I saw the first Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles and at the beginning the montage of New York and people putting down huge slices of greasy cheesy pizza, I had to have it. We went to the most authentic places we could find, places that looked like they had been there for decades. The best thing was they were a $1 or $1.50 per slice. I think the whole weekend I had at least 6 slices. My simple goal was complete.

After all the touring, we had a king's thirst and decided to head to the only place fit for such hunger: The Slaughtered Lamb. This is a bar decked out with dark candle-lit rooms and hard wooden tables, with two large hearths with roaring fires to warm the townsfolk that dare to enter in. Along with this medieval like feel, add Metal music and there you have it, the Slaughtered Lamb. I ordered the Fish and chips, not a scrap was left,not even for the dogs.

Dinner was finished and we went out for a few more drinks with another friend of Dave's and Bryan's. The four of us walked around a bit in Manhattan because the weather was a little warmer and took our time finding a spot. I had to fly to Miami the next day, so I wasn't in for the long haul. We left around midnight and headed back to Dave's. After a few more jokes and late-night banter, along with drunken arrival of Dave's new roommates who entertained us for a good 15 minutes before passing out, we went to bed.

The next morning was rushed as always, both Brian and I had a bus and plain to catch respectively. They dropped me off first. I said thanks to Dave(best host ever) and turned to my good friend Brian. He wished me luck on my travels and gave me a big bear hug. He cracked on more joke like he always does and said bye. It was strange, as I waved goodbye one last time before they drove away, almost immediately I felt a sudden change. A feeling of loneliness and abandonment because I was turning away from family and friends again for another six months for a life in another hemisphere. Many think I am  a world traveler and used to this type of coming and going, but I must admit every time that I go, a part of me stays behind. The empty spaces it creates are hardly, if ever, able to be replaced.