During the July 4th weekend of 2006, I made my first “pilgrimage” to the city of Atlanta, to catch a Braves game at Turner Field, and do a bit of sightseeing. I spent about 5 days there, and was determined to come back as often as I could.

Life, of course, had other plans for me and I kept having to put a return on the back burner, only flying through Atlanta-Hartsfield on layovers to Virginia Beach in 2007 and 2010, to visit relatives. In 2014, I learned that the 2016 baseball season would be the final season the Braves played with Turner Field as their home before moving to SunTrust Park in 2017. I had two years to get myself back there.

Low and behold, here we are in 2016. I originally planned to go back ten years to the day, but life again prevented me from following through on my plan. I didn’t have a full time job at the time, so choosing to spend money on airfare and a hotel over paying rent and buying groceries wouldn’t have been the smartest decision to make.

Until a month later, upon my return from Boston, my life changed for the better and I was able to book a flight, a hotel room, and ticket to the eighth-to-last Major League Baseball game to be played at Turner Field. I was going to fulfill the promise I made to myself…and to my Babies.

I only planned to go for the weekend of September 16-18; I didn’t have any vacation days to use so a weekend would have to suffice. After a full day of work, I took a direct, red-eye flight from San Francisco to Atlanta, landing in the ATL at 6am on a peaceful Saturday morning.

Can we pause right here for a bit of a venting session? Because of this short trip, I didn’t plan to check my one carry-on size suitcase. But before I even boarded, I was told by Delta’s gate agents that I would need to check my bag. Ugh. Do they know Atlanta’s airport is the busiest? I didn’t want to deal with baggage claim! I had to check my bag, because damn near everyone who boarded before me already took up all the overhead space. No wonder everyone bumrushes the gate before pre-boarding is even over – they all want dibs on the overhead! Here’s something for you overhead hogs to keep in mind: we all hate you when you’re taking your dear sweet time retrieving your carry-on after we landed, because some of you don’t even remember where you stuck your damn bag, or you don’t know that it got moved because you stowed it incorrectly. If you’re going to be quick to claim overhead space, be even quicker to get your s*** and get off the damn plane so the rest of us can get off too. Luckily for me, because maybe less than ten of us checked our bags and that it was ass-early on a Saturday morning, baggage claim was pretty much empty. Fine, it was ok this time, but I’m keeping an eye on you hogs. Alright, resume post.

I know people aren’t a fan of red-eye flights but when time is of the essence, what are you going to do? I was already getting sleepy waiting to board the plane, so I thought for sure I would pass right out. Sadly, my seat didn’t recline as much as I thought, and my neck pillow was too small to keep my head still. I don’t know how I drifted in and out of sleep but I managed to squeeze in as much sleep on the plane as I could.

My time in Atlanta was going to be limited so in order to manage my time efficiently, I wrote EVERYTHING out:

Usually when I’m planning trips, no matter the duration, I try to plan out maybe 75% of my total time at my destination. My goal is to maximize what little time I have there and check off my list every intention that brought me to my destination in the first place. The other 25% I allow for wandering, because realistically, nothing ever goes according to plan. Specifically for this trip though, because I didn’t have my sister as my travel buddy like last time, I wanted to navigate on my own, and keep everything low budget. That meant walk or use public transportation as much as possible. In 2006, we took a cab once, used the hotel shuttle once, and used MARTA the most, in addition to walking. I expected to rely solely on MARTA and my own lower appendages, and call for an Uber if I got too tired. No way was I renting a car – I’ve heard about Atlanta traffic and because I sit in my own traffic on a daily basis, I didn’t want to deal with it on my mini vacay.

Using Google Maps, I plotted every location that I would be: the airport, my hotel, Turner Field, and Skyview Atlanta, a new downtown attraction that definitely wasn’t there ten years ago. Then I went to each location’s respective website to look up the directions that each establishment recommended, and planned my transportation routes. I also kept an eye on what was near my destination points, just in case I had time to explore.

First item of business after getting my suitcase: hop on MARTA directly to the hotel, hoping to check in early and take a nap. MARTA’s airport station is adjacent to baggage claim, so I bought my one-way pass at the station, went through the turnstiles (that are still better than BART’s), and boarded the Red Line to downtown Atlanta. The whole ride to Peachtree Center station took less than 45 minutes. From there I was less than a block away from the Hyatt Regency Atlanta.

MARTA passes. Tap on the turnstile reader and go!

I read reviews about the Hyatt Regency, and didn’t even plan on staying there initially. I wanted to be closer to Turner Field, and I considered the Hyatt to be more upscale than the other hotel I stayed in 2006. But I convinced myself to stay at a different place than before, and if it felt too ritzy for me, I deserved a bit of a splurge after how my year has been thus far. I was sold. Plus, since I booked my airfare through Expedia, the cost of hotel was included so I scored a pretty good deal for myself.

The room I booked wasn’t ready yet by the time I arrived at 7am, but I paid $25 more for an upgrade to a room that was ready. I just really wanted to shower and lie down, and when I unlocked the door to my room and walked in, that relieving sigh of “I’m finally here” kicked in:

https://youtu.be/t0h3ZyAmsbI

Good morning Atlanta! (view from my hotel room balcony, facing west)

But before I could get settled, I remembered Pint Size Gourmets‘ recommendation and tips of how to check for bed bugs (because you NEVER know), pulled it up on my phone, and did a quick and thorough inspection of the bed and luggage rack. It pained me a bit to undo the bedsheets because the bed was made so well, but better safe than sorry.

After the all-clear, I headed into my tiny bathroom and showered (kind of a strange shower – the knob was located on the opposite side from where the shower head was, and I had a hard time sliding the glass door shut, but water pressure was perfect), changed into my pajamas, and slept for a couple of hours.

Game time was at 1pm, but I needed to be on the move by 11am if I was taking public transit to Turner Field. Having looked up what time batting practice was in advance, I knew the likelihood of meeting any players during BP was slim to none. For a day game this early, they wouldn’t even have BP. Instead, I wanted to walk around Turner Field before pre-game festivities began.

I changed into my game day clothes, while my stomach reminded me that we hadn’t eaten an actual meal since lunch at work the previous day. I headed across the street from the Hyatt to Corner Bakery Cafe, where I found a lot of fellow Braves fans already seated to some breakfast. Seeing that familiar “A” in a mixture of red, navy blue, and white, I didn’t feel like an out-of-towner at all. I ordered the Farmer’s Scrambler, which kept me satiated for more than half the day.

From Peachtree Center station, I took MARTA to Five Points (just one stop over), and surfaced to look for one of the three city buses that would take me directly to Turner Field. I saw the 32 parked nearby, and made my way to ask the driver which way the bus would be going. I was stopped though, by a gentleman named Jamal, who asked if he could help me find something. Crap, is it obvious I’m not from here? Do I look lost? I probably did, because I checked my notebook and my phone to orient myself. I try not to do that a lot, because I feel like that could make me a target to anyone who preys on out-of-towners.

Jamal, however, displayed the Southern Hospitality that my sister and I experienced in 2006 when we were walking around Five Points. There are a number of locals who seem to hang around there, but their genuine hellos, how-you-doings, and can-I-help-yous took away any remote ounce of anxiety I could have felt when getting around the city by myself. Jamal asked me where I was headed, and when I told him I was going to the game, he pointed right at the 32 bus and said, “I’m pretty sure this bus stops right by there, you can take that.” Thank you Jamal for that reassurance! And also for taking a picture with me.

I told him I liked his hat.

The quick bus ride took me from Five Points to just south of downtown Atlanta, and dropped me off at Turner Field. Here I was. Face to face once again. I have to admit, it took my breath away to be back at a place that I had seen countless times on TV and online. To stand before it in person, in all its glory, was surreal. Once I went through security and picked up my free Bobby Cox Bobblehead giveaway, I moved further into Fan Plaza, enveloped with the energy from my fellow Braves Country brethren.

The Braves’ drumline, The Heavy Hitters, made their way through the crowd to get the fans even more pumped for the game ahead.

I walked past the Braves Clubhouse Store towards this view.

This was a bittersweet moment for me. Taking in the entire scale of the stadium, panning left and right, I mentally kicked myself for not coming here enough. Turner Field is a beautiful ballpark; it broke my heart to begin accepting the fact that this would be the last time I would ever see it the way I’ve seen it for nineteen years.

The game was starting soon, so I had to head to the opposite side of where I was standing, to my seat:

If you follow me on Twitter, you probably saw me live tweeting as much as possible. I know who definitely saw my tweets: whoever runs the Braves’ Twitter account. They tweeted a direct message to me and later on sent someone to deliver a sweet swag bag. It pays to be on Twitter!

It was also great to meet one of my fellow Braves fans and a Twitter follower in person, Ms. Sandie – she had me cracking UP during the game:

Contrary to what many non-baseball fans would think, the game flew right by, with the Braves winning 7-3 over their division rivals, the Washington Nationals. The energy in that stadium when the final out was made is the kind of energy I don’t ever want to forget. I cheered, I screamed, I jumped up and down, hootin’ and hollerin’. And at that moment, I didn’t want to leave. I didn’t want the energy to die down, but in what felt like an instant, the seats were suddenly quiet. Most of the fans filed out fairly quickly into the afternoon, except for those like me who stopped by the Clubhouse Store, or who scattered in various areas of the ballpark for photo opps.

But then, I was back out at Fan Plaza, where the remaining fans I had seen were finally gone. It was incredibly quiet, and the euphoria I felt less than an hour prior suddenly turned to sadness. My last time at Turner Field was over. I looked around and somehow played through in my mind, a blurry montage of the past nineteen years: the names of so many players’ (who’ve been lucky enough to wear a Braves’ uniform) names being announced over the PA system as they came up to bat, the beat of the drum controlling the tempo of the Tomahawk Chop, an instrumental version of “Apache” playing while the giant Coca-Cola bottle up in the Skyfield shot out fireworks every time a Brave hit a homerun, the roar of the crowd…they were all echoes now, and they grew more faint by the second.

Those memories felt like the pulse of Turner Field, and as I looked around one last time before passing through the gates to go back to my hotel, it seemed as if it was actually saying goodbye to me. “Thank you for visiting me…I don’t want you to leave, but I know my fate…”

I know that sounds dramatic. It’s not like the stadium itself is going to be imploded the way Fulton-County Stadium was. But take my word for it, this goodbye was tough.

It rained in Atlanta the next day, when I was to return home. After an exciting and emotional day before, I was determined to leave Atlanta feeling happy. My initial plan was to check out Skyview after the game, but I was too exhausted to go, and I wanted to go in the morning. I walked to Skyview from my hotel, purchased my ticket, and boarded a gondola I had all to myself. I immediately regretted not going the day before, when the weather was sunnier and visibility was much better.

 

https://youtu.be/VwgOihpR6IA

https://youtu.be/rCby4Y57ee0

I’m positive it would’ve been better had it not rained but, at least I got to see what it was like.

I went back to the Hyatt Regency to get my suitcase from Bennie, one of the porters who I struck up a lengthy conversation with prior to going to Skyview. I could’ve talked to this guy for hours. We talked about Atlanta, the Braves, music, traveling. If you’re ever staying at the Hyatt Regency in Atlanta, make sure you say hi to Bennie.

Need a topic? Talk to him about jazz music.

I headed back to MARTA to make my way to the airport to go home. I know I’ve rambled on and on – who could turn a quick weekend trip into this long of a blog post? This girl.

So what can you take away from all that I’ve babbled endlessly about? No, it’s not just another ode to the Braves thing or a few travel tips. It’s actually something that Bennie told me he admired and respected about me and my trip: he, like Jamal, was at first surprised that I flew across the country to Atlanta by myself, for a baseball game, for a team that wasn’t having a winning season, and to say goodbye to a building. But when he learned how long I’ve been a devoted fan, he understood. Life is short, and if you have the opportunity to do things you’ve always wanted to do, see places you’ve always wanted to see, etc. – don’t let those opportunities pass you by. They may not always be there.

Have you ever done something meaningful to you that others didn’t quite understand?

While you think about it, here’s a video of me trying to play Memory at the airport:

https://youtu.be/TqdnFBts63o