Letters From (North) America #1

The first of several, I hope - this one courtesy of free internet access in the impressive surroundings of the New York Public Library. After the heat and madness of Fifth Avenue outside - it's in the high twenties in October, unseasonably warm even for New York, and there's some kind of Polish parade going on (I kept getting visions of someone belting out 'Twist And Shout' from a passing float...) - this is a cool haven of serenity.

Polish parade on Fifth Avenue

Some library or other

A few unstructured observations on our adventures so far, then:

* Approaching security at Heathrow, I suddenly realised I'd actually better check through the contents of my trusty pencil case for anything sharp. Unlikely, perhaps, but I'd rather not have been the first person stopped on suspicion of intent to stab an air steward in the eye with the blade from a pencil sharpener or a cork board pin...

* The green Non-Immigrant Visa Waiver Form we were asked to complete on the plane featured some interesting Yes / No questions. For example: "Have you ever been or are you now involved in espionage or sabotage?" Not 100% convinced that's going to catch anyone out, to be honest. What kind of spy is going to tick Yes and then think, "Oh bugger..."? The question continues: "Between 1939 and 1945 were [you] involved, in any way, in persecutions associated with Nazi Germany or its allies?" That ought to wheedle them out where international investigations have failed. It's got to come as a bit of an unpleasant surprise, too - you're looking forward to a long weekend in the Big Apple and instead, after one wrong answer, find yourself up on a charge of war crimes without even a bagel for comfort.

* The taxi driver who took us from JFK to our hotel - black but with a fondness for shaking his head and exclaiming "Oy oy oy meshuggah" like one of Larry David's eccentric relatives in 'Curb Your Enthusiasm' - told us that we should travel everywhere by foot or subway because the roads are crazy. As horns hooted out every few seconds, we were soon in agreement - not least because his attitude to driving was so cavalier you'd suspect he thought he was being pursued through Paris by a pack of paparazzi. Certainly the soothing sounds of The Groove Boutique on the radio - soft jazz and limp lounge soul of the sort found as the demonstration tracks on Bontempi organs - didn't seem to have any effect. Once over the bridge into Manhattan, he morphed from irascible and melodramatic headshaker into garrulous tour guide, taking us past Times Square, Central Park and Madison Square Gardens and pointing out sights, skyscrapers and the site where the mobsters regularly dumped the bodies of those who'd crossed them. He was particularly enthusiastic about the regular street festivals, exclaiming memorably: "I eaten things there I ain't ever even thought of before"...

* Want to buy beer? Don't ask in a liquor store - you'll be laughed out of the door. Silly us.

* Slightly concerned by my impulse, surrounded by millions of New Yorkers, to speak either in a stronger Northumbrian accent or else start adopting the verbal mannerisms of Robert de Niro...

Bless ye, ye rabbits, for ye have sinned?

* I was tempted to pose for a photo outside the Dakota Building with my hands forming a pistol, but thought it might go down badly with the assembled tourists. A wise move, I think. Nice to see a male street artist who looked like Yoko Ono just over the road, though.

The Dakota Building

* Stretched limos without shrieking hen parties leaning out of the windows - that makes a refreshing change.

Ribbons for US soldiers killed in Iraq, outside the Marble Collegiate Church on Fifth Avenue

* Whither the famed New York friendliness, we've wondered on a couple of occasions. At the place we stopped for coffee earlier, it was very definitely service with a scowl. At least at Chipotle, we got a very tasty fajita burrito with the side order of frosty attitude.

Whatever you do, don't look up "shrimping"...

Right, onwards to the Lower East Side, Little Italy and hopefully the Staten Island Ferry. Toodle-pip.