The pub is an Oirish theme bar called Blarneys just around the corner. They do a frankly appalling pint of Guinness, but the atmosphere is good, and the licensing laws are as ever far more civilised than London. People are still coming in for the first drink of the night well past midnight as we re leaving. After a jet-lagged sleep that resembled a coma, it s sightseeing day. A stroll down to Greenwich Village is first plan, once we ve had a breakfast big enough to feed a fat American, in a beautiful caf on Broadway.
More people have dogs and more art shops and organic food places appear.
Not that they d be new to you of course, you ve all heard them a hundred times on video and in the cinema. And this is the other striking thing about losing your New York virginity the feeling that you re in a film surreality at its most extreme. You keep expecting Michelle Pfeiffer to appear round the corner. Alas she never does, but its still magic. In England we like to think we live in a non-racist society because different cultures mostly put up with each other.