Adios Mon Ami Travel: Flying from New York to Brazil: What to Expect

Copacabana Beach

Travel Day to Rio

I once stumbled across an inspiring blog written by a recent graduate who had rewarded herself with a trip to Iceland. Her story encouraged me to start a travel blog of my own. I only wish I had begun documenting my earlier trips. There is something cathartic about recording your experiences while traveling—the excitement, the frustrations, and everything that happens along the way.

My flight from JFK to Rio de Janeiro was scheduled to depart at 1:00 p.m. Just as I was walking out the door, however, Delta sent me a text announcing a delay of several hours. The delay would have caused me to miss my connection and become stranded in Lima, so I postponed my departure until the following day—which happened to be my birthday—and arranged a different route through Atlanta.

I crossed my fingers that I would reach Rio on Sunday morning and meet my tour group later that day.

When I originally expected to fly on LATAM, I packed only a carry-on because the weight limit was 26 pounds. I had watched more YouTube packing videos than I care to admit, so I felt prepared. Traveling light is much easier than dragging a large suitcase from place to place, and I have no objection to wearing the same outfit several times. Nobody cares.

Getting to JFK has become relatively easy now that I take the Long Island Rail Road to Jamaica Station and transfer to the AirTrain. I still get butterflies when traveling to new and uncharted places, but facing those fears is part of the experience—and the journey is usually well worth it once I arrive.

I planned to meet my Gate 1 travel group at the Windsor Leme Hotel near Copacabana Beach. Most people on organized tours are friendly, and traveling with strangers is generally not a problem as long as everyone avoids conversations about politics and religion. The tour company specifically advises travelers to steer clear of controversial subjects.

For the most part, we share a love of discovering new places and exchanging travel stories, which makes it easy to bond. When people ask where I am from, I sometimes hear a few snarky comments about New York City or Brooklyn, but they do not bother me. When speaking with strangers abroad, however, I remain cautious about how much personal information I share. That is simply part of traveling responsibly on my own.

On the morning of my rescheduled departure, I hoped the planets were finally in alignment. It was still early, and there were no delay notifications—yet. Uncertainty is one of the worst parts of traveling, but I was prepared to meditate if necessary.

I knew that once I reached Atlanta, I might have to race across the airport to catch my international flight. I had studied the terminal layout the night before. Some might call that obsessive, but when you are traveling alone, advance planning helps reduce anxiety.

Then Delta began wavering over whether my Atlanta flight would be delayed, sending me into a mild panic about the connection. The gate was also moved to the far end of the terminal. Soon afterward, the airline reversed course, and everything returned to the original plan. Grrr!

Unfortunately, I spoke too soon. The crew arrived late at JFK, leaving me very little time to make my connection in Atlanta. Thankfully, the airport train carried me across the terminals at lightning speed, and I reached the gate in time.

Delta later sent me 4,000 miles as a consolation prize. It seemed a little measly after all that stress—but I took it.

Goodbye for now. Next stop: Rio. I suppose it is time to learn a little Portuguese.

L is not on the trip, but adding her photo just the same because she is so cute.