Fighting for Light by Roger Sproston

Author:Roger Sproston
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781847164957
Publisher: Straightforward Publishing

ACT THREE

AMERICA AGAIN

18

Back in the USA!

I left Bristol on the 13th of May 1980. I was quite sad to leave, given the number of friends and acquaintances that I had made here. A lovely city with everything going for it. In my usual style, I hitched from Bristol to Heathrow Airport and hopped on the plane to New York. One thing was an ever-present danger, and that was my dodgy passport. I still had it and hadn’t bothered to do anything about it which, looking back, was a stupid thing to do. However, that was the situation and all I could do was hope that nothing would be detected. And so it was I got through and got on the plane and was off. Those were the days when you could fly to the states and get a visa at the other side.

I suddenly began to get cold feet, knowing full well that the American customs were among the most vigilant in the world. Obviously after 9/11 they became ever more so but even before this they had a reputation for being very heavy indeed. Basically, everyone entering the USA was guilty before being presumed innocent. The issue of my passport suddenly began to niggle me. What happens if they saw the missing page and arrested me? Oh well, too late now let’s suck it and see, as they say.

The plane touched down at JFK at around 5pm USA time. This was the first time that I had flown to the states and I was dismayed by the massive lines of people waiting to get out of the airport. The customs took absolutely ages to get people through and we were herded like a lot of swine into a queue and barked at by a customs official. Welcome to America!

Eventually, it was my turn and I made my way to the cubicle trying to look innocent. The customs official looked me up and down and said ‘Passport’. I froze, he looked at me and said, even louder, PASSPORT. I gave him the passport and he kept on looking at me. He then flicked through the document and said:

“Destination?”

“America”

“Are you being funny?”

“No, sorry, I am off to New York and then a bit of travelling”

“Money-how much do you have?”

“£1,000 dollars, which will see me through”

After looking at me for what seemed an age, he informed me that I had four months in the States as a tourist, then would be required to leave. With that he waved me on.

I had done it again with my dodgy passport and here I was in America, in New York, that old feeling of excitement taking over me. Now all I had to do was get into the city and find somewhere to stay.

The first thing that I needed to do was get myself into Manhattan. I had no idea of the layout of the city, no idea that Manhattan was an island-just that Manhattan was where it was at. Central Park, Greenwich Village, Bob Dylan, China Town, Little Italy.

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