So I have finally made it to New York, which I have dreamed of going to since I was about six. My Dad promised me that he would take me when I was nine and I gave up asking after 17 years, so I booked a ticket to go for three months, with the presumption that I would love it.
I am one week in, and so far I have... had a slice of pizza, seen a rat the size of a cat, had lots of terrifying late night taxi experiences, been to the NYC Ballet, a gig, shopped, visited pretty much every touristy spot, seen celebs, shopped, had brunch at a diner…with portions which made me understand the American weight issue...been to markets, had my nails done, seen a man perform some sort of Star Wars saber knife slicing champagne bottle neck off trick, stepped on a cockroach, shopped, drunk lots of coffee, been to secret bars where you drink out of teacups and eaten in lots of trendy cool restaurants…and tomorrow night I am even going to a Yankees game, all far to much excitement!