Sweating on the stoop…

So I’ve been in NYC, Brooklyn to be precise, for a month now. The grey drizzly days of England seem so far away in this 100 degree plus heat. I’ve never wanted rain so much.

The noise, smell and sights of this crazy city are still assaulting my senses every day but I am now starting to feel more at home. I’ve got getting lost down to once a day and I keep finding myself saying things like ‘you guys’, ‘trash can’ and ‘sidewalk’ (mainly to be understood ) but give me a few more weeks and I’ll be shouting ‘Enough already!’ and ‘Hey!I’m walking here!’.

This month I’ve been mainly:

Sweating, walking on steaming hot sidewalks, looking up at huge buildings, buying cheap (crap) furniture, cycling on my ‘antique’ wobbly bike, changing my clothes twice a day, drinking gallons of sweet iced tea, eating popsicles and bagels and cream cheese and watermelon and smoked meat and giant olives and omlettes and french fries and asparagus and smores and salsa and burritos and enchiladas and chocolate brownies and probably too much of all of it, I’ve been learning what plantain and chipotle are and avoiding the latter at all costs and I’ve been meeting some amazing characters.

It’s true. If you’ve never been- it really is like in the movies. This is my third visit and I still walk round open mouthed most of the time. Just realised I typed movies there without even thinking about it. They’re ruddy films for Gawd’s sake.

New York from under Brooklyn Bridge

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