The Dark Night Rises

The end of a lovely day - this image was taken from our hotel rooftop as we took drinks amongst the bright young things of Manhattan. The Press Lounge is 16 floors up and a mecca for people doing business, relaxing, or out for a high class pull. A bit of eavesdropping can easily tell you which ...

Went for a lovely window shopping trip with The Girl Racer, she loves it here and is talking about coming to work here after graduating. If you knew her you would know this is no idle fantasy: she is quite capable of living the dream. Then met up with The Dizzle and TSM and went down to the 9/11 memorial at ground zero. Very nicely done although still work in progress in many ways. The rebuilding work is all around; the incongruity is of quietly honouring the dead whilst creating yet another new version of skybound mammon in Manhattan. Afterwards we popped in to the Cafe Bravo in the financial district which I think has been relaunched following mixed reviews; we thought it was fab and The Girl Racer said her Angry American Beef sandwich may well have been the best sandwich she has ever eaten.

Then on to Seaport in Lower Manhattan and Brooklyn Heights followed by Dumbo, where I would have loved to have spent more time. This old industrial district of warehouses and waterfront buildings has been the subject of a renaissance in the last few years but much of the dockside architecture is intact. You can get fabulous views of the Brooklyn and Manhattan bridges from here and lots of lovely calories in the Brooklyn Ice Cream Factory.

Went to see Chicago tonight which is Broadway's longest running musical. Forgotten how enjoyable it is. Walking back through Hell's Kitchen I decided I love this place, for reasons too many and too numerous to describe when tired at the end of the day. But to give an example, I was walking into the city this morning when a softball flew over a fence and I caught it on the bounce and tossed it back to a Puerto Rican guy who emerged from a caged playground looking for it. It was a moment of simple rhythm when you connected with the pulse of the city. As he thanked me I realised this was New York's secret: it is open to everyone. You just have to let it in and it takes you into it's heart. I wouldn't call it welcoming (although it often is); it just lives with its doors and windows open for all to see.