Friday 5th October 2018 (updated)

The alarm went off at quarter past four. Meaning with had just over an hour to get our shit together, just about enough time.

Jools was up first again, made coffee and began clearing up, taking out trash so we would come home to a clean house, not a stinky one.

We both have a shower, dress, and then do some last minute panic checking of documents, tickets and the rest until we were happy we were ready.

Ricky arrived two minutes late, and was pleased to see us, he helped load up the van, I get in beside him, Jools in the back. And we were off.

The roads around Dover were quiet, but a few trucks heading to the port. Dwn Jubilee Way then along the harbour and up Shakespeare towards Folkestone. We really were on our way to New York.

I still wasn’t excited, really, I guess as I fly so often it isn’t anything special. But New York, surely the excitement would kick in?

We talk about science whilst Ricky tries to convince us that anything not explainable is magic or spooky.

The M20 is all full of roadworks and speed restrictions as the “preparations” for the Brexit lorry park continue. This means we were delayed 20 minutes or so, but still had plenty of time.

Onto the M25, it was now light, but misty, but my inner weatherman aid that once the sun rose at ten past seven the mist would burn off. Which it did.

Checking in for our flight wasn’t hard: I print out our boarding passes, check in our two cases, through security, all in ten minutes. The days of waiting in line for hours are long gone, but US immigration would slow things up later.

We go to Gordon Ramsay’s Plane Food for breakfast, but were ripped off big time, £42 for pancakes and bacon, a glass of juice each and a coffee! Won’t be going there again and that’s for sure. I know the airport by now, and we need no shopping done, so once we knew the gate, we took the train to the C gates and found a quiet place to wait, right in the corner of the building, so I could take shots looking back towards the gates, a huge space under the arched roof.

There was no made rush when the flight was called, despite it being near full. We just waited in line and went n the plan, and it was at that point I saw we were in cattle class, not in cattle class plus. Oh well, this would do. I had a window seat and Jools beside me.

The flight filled up, we had the safety brief, that dreadful BA video, and then we were off, rolling down to the end of the runway to wait our turn to take off.

Once in the air, nothing to see, as there was total cloud, but we turned to the west and climbed, I put on a set of headphones and watched Incredibles 2, Solo, and then On the Town, the wonderful musical to put me in a New York frame of mind.

We circled round as the plane lost height, I saw little else other than trees and a few picturesque villages. Until we were on final, then skimming of the roofs of New Jersey and finally Manhattan could be seen across the Hudson River.

Once on the ground and off the plane, we then had the traditional wait at immigration. The line moved a bit at first, then just stopped. Time dragged, until we were directed to join a line for US passport holders. We got tot eh front, and a most unfriendly man checked our documents and stamped the passports; we were through and now in the USA.

Our cases were waiting, so we grabbed those, then went out to arrivals and lined up for a taxi. All very civilised, we gave our address, were told of the cost and which cab would take us. Apart from asking for our address, the drive did not speak, but the ride was thrilling, as the Manhattan skyline got closer and closer, but the road was in a shocking state, and lines with graffiti, making it a stark contrast to the ride into Tokyo two years ago.

New Jersey seemed to just like those old episodes of Starsky and Hutch, all brick built buildings, narrow alley and shops and garages. It had been down at hell, and probably still is, but there has been a great attempt to brighten up the neighbourhoods, not with graffiti but proper street art, and some of it very good too.

Traffic was now stop start as the Manhattan skyline drew ever nearer, we were matching pace with a huge silver bus, pumping out fumes.

We crawled through the Holland Tunnel and emerged into New York, and solid traffic.

We inched our war into the city, then through a few intersections, getting past traffic wanting to get out of the city, all to the soundtrack of dozens of car horns, as impatience grew.

The hotel was something like just four blocks from the tunnel portal, but to get there meant crossing over the massive queues of traffic waiting to get to cross back into New Jersey. The driver went round the outside of a park, then forced his way through three solid lanes of cars, all with their horns blaring, onto the far side and then down a side road. This took half an hour, but quicker than the more "direct" route.

We got to the hotel, checked in and were given the swipe card to our room on the 15th floor And once we had dumped our bags, freshened up, we went out for a walk.

We are staying in Soho, an area between Greenwich and Tribeca, our first thought was to head where the buildings looked bigger meaning there would be bars and restaurants. We walked south, but saw little of bars open, but then it was before five. One that was open, was rammed with trendy types, so we walk on. I say walked, wandered aimlessly, and all the time we were tired and hungry. Any food would do.

On both sides, behind and in front of us, buildings reared up, pointing to the sky and touching it I would think. Some were very modern, but others were from the first half of last century, all brick clad and made with art deco lines and still looking smart.

At each block we had to wait to use the crosswalk, waiting for the lights to change, even this was a throwback to Hollywood films or TV cop shows, all of it thrilling. Above us, on many buildings there were tin roofed wooden water towers, looking very much out of place, but in such numbers and on modern buildings to show they must still be used.

We could hear subway trains running just below the streets, and warm air rose through grills in the sidewalk as a train passed. Just like in the movies.

What I can't take a picture of is the noise of the nose to tail traffic, and the smell os sewers, food piled up in trash bags waiting to be collected. And people. Everywhere there are people. Were we to know where we were going, it might have been OK, but we just wanted food and drink.

Thing is when you have no real idea what you want to eat or drink, or where to go, you can end up just wandering. I could see some bright lights down a side street, and the first place we came to was a bar that did food, Mudville 9, and the smells coming out of the door were fabulous. We went in and we given the table by the open window overlooking the street, so we coupld people watch and marvel at the never-ending line of trucks, cars and buses inching their way a dozen blocks to the Holland Tunnel.

I have a half rack of ribs, and something called Mexican corn; which was a whole cob cooked, then dipped in mayonnaise, cream and sprinkled with spicy herbs. Both were wonderful. And waiting I could either look at the sports news on the TV above our table, or there was always the wonderful mix of people in the bar, all eating or waiting to eat. This is what we had come to New York for, no peace and quiet, but an adenture for all 5 senses, and that is certainly what it was.

Once we had eaten, we could have walked more, but our body clock was on half midnight, so we retraced our steps back home, past the UPS depot with the street triple parked with their vans, all waiting for their morning tasks.

Back in the hotel, past the line of young folks waiting to get into the hotel rooftop bar, we go to our room and to bed.