June 13-14, 2026. Departure and Arrival

 People ask, "So...how was your trip?" Then they brace themselves, dreading that you might actually go ahead and tell them.  I am going to do just that.  First there was Raj, who was to drive me to JFK.  I had to tell him my my address on three different occasions during the booking process, and even though he had been given all the details about the flight, terminal, and so on, he didn't remember any of it.  This is not good for a person such as myself, who assumes EVERYTHING will go wrong.  Well, despite my fears and anxiety, Raj actually did show up on time. Traffic to JFK was hardly an issue, and Raj gave me an abbreviated version of his life story, which made me want to blurt out, several times, "You have got to be kidding!"  (I did not so interject, however.)  Just for staters, he is from Pakistan, so you can imagine there is some drama there.  

Since I was flying fancy style, check in was a breeze and I even got through security with my grapes and hiking poles, though I did have to remove my hiking boots as I was a "random" person to be checked.  Frankly, I think it was because they did not expect a person of a certain age to be wearing heavy-duty, leather, above the ankle, Zamberlan boots.  Accommodations on the plane were disappointing, but the crew were great and I slept the whole way on 250 mg. of Zolpidem, thus, the inability to move more than 5 centimeters in any direction was irrelevant.

Manchester, reputed to be the worst airport in England, has undergone some serious renovation, at least terminal 2 has, and that is what mattered in this case.  I retrieved my suitcase, went through passport control and customs all in about 15 minutes or less, would you believe?  Finding the pickup driver....not so easy, but was in the room of my hotel in Leeds within 90 minutes after the flight landed.  

First to do: shop.  Bought the usual staples but unfortunately, I am already sick of the lox and cream cheese thing.  I may have to branch out.  Then I went on a walking tour only not really.  I used the itinerary of a walking tour of the city, but did it without the guide and a group os people all of whom are routinely asked, "Where are you from?"  (Is that supposed to be a bonding question?)  Here, not in order, is some of what I saw: 

At the Leeds Art Museum:  Arp

At the Garden: Roses 

At the town hall, a plaque that did not make me weep:

And, no, I did not know.

Some assurance that this might be an OK city in which to get sick:

But, OTOH, fear that you can't ever get away:

Woah!! You can get a heart attack and use wi-fi ALL AT ONCE!

Back at the museum, a flash back to the Car Graveyard in the Hamden Plaza.  One can really contemplate that shredded tire or do they spell it tyre here?  Is that creative or what ?  Who knew that a hunk of handrail + two wrecked tires = art!

Here are some shmattahs lying on the ground, right?  NO, THEY ARE NOT!   It turns out that one is supposed to lie on one of them and, so positioned, contemplate the painted glass ceiling (sorry, no picture), and then view all the photos and memorabilia around the room. They are  all part of the composition of an artist paying tribute to her recently deceased father.  One would never know this unless they had the good fortune, as I did, of having the security guard give them a whirlwind tour.

Let sleeping dogs lie:

Or Not:

especially if that is a cat.

This is one of Jacob Kramer's (his family fled Ukraine in 1901) most famous early works, ‘Hear Our Voice, O Lord, our God’ (1919); it shows the tortured face of a Jewish woman during a pogrom.

A brief stop at the Royal Armouries Museum where I will return on Tuesday: