New York, New York, why must you be thus cold? Do you not feel the tiniest modicum of sympathy for this woman from the tropics (and, these days, from Houston)? You’ve got her all bundled up like an Asian dumpling. A travelling Asian dumpling, no less.
Entering the Fashion District and my Egyptian-born cabbie goes to town with the horn. Only in New York (and Kuching, and Calabria).
Turning the corner into West 28th Street, and you can see remnants of snow from the morning. It’s all a tad mushy and slippery and grey outside though.
Think what you like, say what you think, but I do firmly believe this is the most important bit/tool of any hotel room.
The wallpaper in my hotel room. Trippy or what?
First night in NYC and I pig out at Morimoto’s. In fact, I think the other patrons around me were taking bets on where I was packing it all in. Oink, oink. Can you blame me? When you’re in the same vicinity as the restaurant of an Iron Chef, YOU_JUST_PIG_OUT. Resistance is futile. More on that tonight. I have to start getting ready for IFBCON, super excited and nervous, and hoping I won’t fall asleep (the traffic outside kept me up and woke me at 4.34am, yawn). That’d be rather awkward.
Talk to you guys from the Altman.
p/s I did dream of Puff The Magic Dragon