Europe vacation ends with unwanted but delightful weekend in New York

One of my favorite parts of travel is the adventures outside of the adventure.

We had one of those this past June as we wrapped our two-week tour with the Oklahoma Ambassadors of Music. High school students from across the state joined teachers and parents for a trip across Europe, bringing American music to audiences in England, France, Switzerland, Germany, and Austria.

More on each of those in a future blog post.

We get done with our tour, and we’re all ready to get home, as you might imagine. There isn’t much in the way of sleep to be had when you’re on a tour with 200 people. There are long drives and lots of coordination.

The final drive takes us to Munich, where we board a flight to Newark — and that’s when our adventure outside of the adventure began.

It started with eight long, painful hours at the Newark Liberty International Airport courtesy of the FAA and United Airlines, one or both of which decided they didn’t have enough air traffic controllers to maintain a regular flight schedule.

That’s fine. Safety first.

But if you were expecting a tale of great customer service from United, you can keep moving. It was awful.

So, we waited and waited in the airport with no real food or rest to be had outside of the TSA gates. We were tired and very cranky. But eventually, we got a hotel in East Rutherford, New Jersey. And that means we were close to MetLife Stadium, the Meadowlands.

Turns out they were hosting a match from the Club World Cup, a big soccer tournament this summer.

Anyway, the folks at the hotel were excellent. Super friendly, as is everybody in New York.

You think I’m kidding — but my experience has always been that New Yorkers are very friendly. They want you to respect their time and to be self-aware; that’s it.

Settled in at the hotel, we rested, then plotted how to make the most of the extra vacation day forced upon us. (We returned for real on Monday.)

My stepdaughter, Olivia, had an idea to get tickets for the matinee showing of “The Outsiders” on Broadway.

Given how new the show is, relatively, it seemed a long shot.

We hopped a train, taking the Secaucus junction ride to Penn Station.

Our taxi ride into the city was right up against the 3:00 hour, when the last of most of Sunday’s matinees begin.

Bumper to bumper.

We didn’t stand a chance. It was 3:18.

We spotted the first Broadway show we could find, Aladdin. They had an early-evening showing, and plenty of tickets were available. Also, they were incredibly friendly. Don’t hate on New York.

The only problem for me was that the Oklahoma City Thunder were tipping off Game 7 that night, and there was no way I was going to miss that, having missed much of the Finals series from Europe. It’s a trip trying to keep up with American sports while on another continent.

But Game 7? I was going to find somewhere to watch.

First, though, I wanted to wander the streets of New York, one of my favorite things to do there, walking. I was in the middle of Midtown, so it wasn’t anything I hadn’t seen many times before, and I should also note that, on this particular day, it smelled strongly of weed and poo, not the best combo.

I stopped at Macy’s, one of my favorite places.

They’ve got a little McDonald’s at the top of the building, and so I snagged a bite there.

And then I sought out the hometown Thunder, landing upon a sports bar in the middle of midtown Manhattan, a place called Yard House.

The place was packed with diners, not basketball enthusiasts. I made my way to the bar and ordered a beer, but I was standing there, loitering — loitering and watching a very tight first quarter between OKC and Indiana.

The bartender asked me if I had a rooting interest in the game, to which I replied, “You bet. I’m from Oklahoma City, and we were supposed to be home tonight to watch the game.”

There were no more seats in the place, not a one. This guy found me a stool in the back and set me up in a corner out of the way, but within view of the TV.

Tell me New Yorkers aren’t awesome.

We got back to the hotel just in time to watch Oklahoma City dominate the fourth quarter and win the NBA Championship for the first time. It was glorious.

We had another 2:45 a.m. wake-up call to get to the airport.

And I could not have cared less. We were coming home to a parade. This was the stack of tabloids awaiting us at the airport.

It’s just a reminder that what seems like a major hassle in the moment could very well become a story you tell for years, a real core memory of what was a life-affirming trip.

Reach out anytime: ryan@doabledigitalmedia.com.