Five Days To Travel The World: Home Again.

Year Two. Month Seven. #JFK #SEA.

Window seat to anywhere. Let's go places.

It was my last day of a five day stretch of days off. I had spent a whirlwind four days in Europe seeing Copenhagen and Amsterdam, and now it was time to fly home.

Except that I decided that I could fit one more little trip in.

To New York City.

The sun peaking through the city streets in the East Village.

Now, I used to live in New York for a brief time, so visiting this city is always a bit of a homecoming for me. I had been away for some time, but owed a visit to my New York best friend, Amanda.

The flight from Amsterdam to New York's JFK Airport looked good, so I hopped on a big Airbus 330, took a nap and woke up in the Big Apple.

Love it or hate it, the subway system gets you around town.

Upon landing, my old New York self took over. I laughed to myself over all the visitors struggling with the metro machines, piling up at the turnstiles. I hopped on the train and curled up in a corner, reading and people watching. Tourists with their big suitcases, standing in the way, holding a giant subway map. And New Yorkers, rolling their eyes and laughing, but finally offering to help.

New Yorkers are actually the nicest people on Earth. And by nice, I mean brutally honest, direct and in your face. But they will stop to help you no matter what, even if it means arguing with another New Yorker over which directions are the best.

B&H Dairy. Matzoh ball soup mecca.

I arrived into the city and proceeded straight to my favorite diner: B&H Dairy. I shouldered up to the tiny counter and shouted my order to the line cook: One bowl of Matzoh ball soup, please, and an extra side of challah. It had been a while. I needed my challah.

After a quick lunch I hopped on the train again, grumbling with thousands of hipsters stuck on a Sunday morning L train to Brooklyn. Many of them were still in costumes the afternoon after Halloween, doing a sort of mass "train ride home of shame." I smiled at a zombie girl whose fake blood was still matted into her hair. She smiled back wearily. It looked like she had a fun night.

Views from Williamsburg

In Brooklyn I met up with my bestie and we quickly got to ordering tacos and margaritas at a local place by the Nassau train stop. Being back in Greenpoint was too easy, too familiar. I remembered my early mornings on the train, bag of Peter Pan donuts in hand, black coffee in one of those infamous little Greek cups, going to work.

I remember my late nights in New York, doing "one last shot" at I-Bar in the East Village, and then gorging on pizza next door at South Brooklyn Pizza. New York is one of those places that gets in your blood, like some sort of chronic disease you can never quite get rid of. It's dingy and disgusting and I love it all the same.

Me, circa 2009, protecting my drinks somewhere in Greenpoint. Not much has changed.

Amanda and I hopped around town, visiting our old stomping grounds. Greenpoint Heights, Matchless, Union Pool. We played skeeball and made faces in the photobooth, laughing when the printed results came out. We grabbed tortas at the taco truck, walked through McCarren Park and back to Greenpoint.

It was a good night, a typical Brooklyn night out.

In the morning, we sipped black coffee in the park and ate bagel sandwiches. I hopped on the train and arrived at Terminal 5 at JFK, ready for my flight back to Seattle and back to reality.

Quiet mornings in Washington Square Park.

Monday night, I arrived home. I showed my boyfriend the photos from the Carlsberg brewery, the chocolates from Amsterdam. I got him caught up on New York gossip and snuggled my cat.

Had it really only been five days?

In five days, I traveled from Seattle to Copenhagen to Amsterdam to New York City and back again.

Five days to travel the world.

Home is good. Home is beautiful. Home is needed.

Let's do this again sometime.