Water. Whether too much, or simply not enough, you always have to worry about water. My path ahead lay across Staten Island and then on to New Jersey. To reach Staten Island I trooped aboard the Staten Island Ferry, M.V. John F. Kennedy, with around 200 tourists and New Yorkers, and watched the silver blue waters of the Upper New York Bay ripple and wave their way west.
Richmond Terrace led from the Ferry Terminal. The temperature was 90 degrees and I moved from bit of shade to bit of shade, as much as I could, with my forty pound pack swaying on my back. Turning down Western Avenue, I made for the Goethals Bridge. Fenced off container yards and a Port Authority area were marked with 'No Trespassing' signs. I started to get a bad feeling about the Goethals Bridge. Sure enough, up ahead there were green wire-link fences and 'No Pedestrian' signs.
As I stood there wondering how I would get over Newark Bay to reach New Jersey, a black van marked with the word 'Security' pulled up in a parking lot. I walked up to the van and signalled for the driver to open his window.
'I'm walking for hospices, from New York to San Francisco and need to get over the bridge. Is there any way you could drive me over... as I'm not allowed to walk?' I looked hopefully at the driver of the van. The driver just looked worried.
'No, no. I can't drive you over. This is a company car and I'm just finishing work.' With that he closed his window. In the parking lot were a number of police cars. Plan B came instantly to mind. I flagged down a policeman, who had just driven into the parking lot, and then explained my predicament.
'No, the police can't take you over to New Jersey. Something might happen while you are in the car and we would be liable.' This wasn't going well. I talked quickly and explained more about the walk, then showed the police officer a business card, with my name and the contact details for the National Hospice Foundation on it. I could see the man was wavering.
'Just wait here. I'll phone someone and see if they can help.' The man got on his cell phone and a huge police officer came walking out of the station building close by. The plan was that the off-duty policeman would drive me over the bridge in his own car and the big police officer would follow behind, in case I caused any trouble. I breathed a sigh of relief. As we drove over the Goethals Bridge, I talked to the off-duty cop. His name was Joe Garcia and I could see he was now much more relaxed. At a set of traffic lights just beyond the bridge, Joe dropped me off and wished me luck. At last I'd made it to New Jersey.
On the Jersey side of Newark Bay was the town of Elizabeth. A gas station where I had got water back in 1988 was still there, only now painted green rather than grey. A place called 'Sweets and Eats' where I'd eaten lemon sorbet was now a pizzeria. The place was familiar, but also different in many ways. As I stood by the gas station, a young woman stopped in her car and gave me a $1 donation for hospice. It looked like my show was finally on the road.
As darkness fell, I walked up Galloping Hill Road, where British Redcoats and Washington's colonial troops had been involved in a skirmish during the American War of Independence. Off to my right was a small park, bordered by dark and forbidding woods. I slipped in amongst the foliage and found a spot between two fallen trees. Light came from nearby streetlights, but was barely enough to see by. Even so, in minutes my tent was up. As I cleaned my teeth, and made ready to get into the tent, mosquitoes began to bite my legs. Hovering and buzzing in my ears, they were annoying. Diving into the tent and zipping up, at last I escaped from the attentions of the bloodsucking insects.
Inside the tent it was hot. For days I had been in air conditioned rooms at night... not so now. Outside was a cacophony of crickets, grasshoppers, the sound of cars, people on the streets and the occasional plane. Luckily I was too tired to care. My legs were sore from sweating and chafing and sweat poured down my face. In the tent I took off my shorts and socks and lay there in just a sweat soaked t-shirt. The journey had truly begun.
