ULTIMATE JOURNEY
Living a Dream . . . 2 Live-N-Ride

An Unexpected Return Home

-- Story by Erin --

We landed on the 17th of October at JFK airport at 6am, were picked up by our friend Jens (best man at our wedding), and drove to Chris' parent's house.  His mom and dad spotted us walking to the front door, but couldn't seem to unlock it as they were shaking with excitement (we didn't tell them we were coming back).  Later, we stopped in at Chris' sister's office -- she was in a meeting and her staff pulled her out to say there was a "situation" she needed to deal with.  She walked around the corner as we strode down the hall towards her.  Chris said "hi", and she just kind of looked at us (still walking towards us, with that look of 'I know these people').  Then suddenly clarity overcame her -- she started shaking uncontrollably, and her knees buckled.  She cried out, "but, but, but.....you're not a picture on the internet.....your really here!?!?"  Tears flowed.  That night, we went with Chris' parents to a restaurant to meet his sister, brother-in-law, and their kids.  The others knew someone would join them, but not who.  Everyone was seated when we walked into the restaurant.  Our 7-yr. old niece, Elyse, jumped out of her chair and ran across the restaurant.  Andre's (our brother-in-law) jaw dropped, and we read his lips as he whispered "Oh my GOD!"

The remainder of the week was much the same, popping in on friends and old co-workers.   It was great to be home amongst family and friends, and they all seemed happy for a change, not like the depressing emails we were getting from everyone back home.  The following weekend my parents drove up from North Carolina, and again there were tears of joy (although they knew we were here).  And once again, we found out how small the world really is:   Having dinner one table away from the mother of Chris' God-son, Elaine (they live in North Carolina, and she was in town for one night) -- followed by the "what are you doing here?" show down; and running into David Park (F650 rider we've been in email contact) on the curb in Manhattan.

New York City is the same, and of course, it's not.  Houses, businesses, and cars are all laden with Old Glory (the American Flag) -- flags, stickers, and computer printouts.  You can download a waving flag for your desktop at www.deskflag.com    Stories from friends are incredible -- fear, sadness, and even some triumph occurred on that terrible Tuesday.  We're glad we came back for this visit -- we felt isolated and insulated on the other side of the world, and it was good to re-establish ourselves as New Yorkers, and as Americans.

We went down on Broadway and stood 1 block from Ground Zero.  It's very different then what we expected.  You can smell the smoke from blocks away, the smoke is still rising from the center of the collapsed towers, and the Wall Street area is eerily quiet.  We took only a few pictures, wanting to record the event, but not wanting to disrespect those who lost so much.  The barrier fences around the site are covered completely with big signs of sympathy from individuals and groups all around the country and around the world.   There are cards, flowers and candles everywhere.

Anthrax is on the periphery, and the threat of another devastating attack is also looming, but people are getting on with their lives, unafraid, but anxious for where/what the next attack will be -- it's not a question of "if" anymore.

Traffic in/around the city is worse and there are soldiers at every bridge, tunnel and the big train stations of Penn Station and Grand Central station.  However, the leaves on the trees were in full Fall foliage -- beautiful yellows, oranges, and reds.  The weather was just fantastic, crisp and clear.  Life is going on, but maybe with a few changes in priorities.

We managed to stay long enough to help celebrate Chris' father's 65th birthday on Sunday, October 28th, at a big party his mother had planned.  And wouldn't you know it, the bikes finally arrived in Buenos Aires.  Oh well, as they say, a watched pot never boils.  Monday night we said a teary goodbye to his mom and dad at the airport.  However, we shall see them again in about 3 months time when they come visit in Santiago de Chile.

For me it was definitely hard to leave.  Being home means not having to think about making myself understood, either due to language or cultural differences.  My friends and family at home all understand me, inherently.  That's a bit deep I know but it's the only way I can describe it.  It was great to be home, but I also can't wait to begin exploring South America!