Our final day in New York was beautiful. (Not mardy and grey like this photo.) The sun shone in that unmistakably New Yorkian way; the fire escapes seemed to be covered in diamonds and the brownstone glowed as if it had been lit by an experienced lighting designer. Elegant columns of steam snaked up from manholes just like in the movies and . . . (Shit. I just said ‘movies.’ I also caught myself saying ‘can you pop the trunk?’ to a taxi driver and ‘we’ll take the check please’ to a waitress. I’m out of control. Or even outta contwol.)

Apparently there’s another storm coming  – a snow storm, poor bastards – but today: heaven. Crisp, beautiful coldness and an intense feeling of rebirth. Almost everything on Manhattan is now up and running, and the city knew it.

So I’m sitting on the floor at JFK full of chicken salad and good humour. (I wrote hummus rather than humour. I should have left it like that really. It tickled me.) Our flight is delayed and I’m so tired I’m like a deceased worm with post-salad onion breath, but I don’t care. The Man and I just so full of gratitude for such an extraordinary two weeks which took us to places we never expected to be and led us to people we never expected to meet.

I’m compiling a list of the best places we went to and will write them up in my next blog but I thought I’d close the trip tonight by sharing with you my thoughts about New York.


  1. All toilet doors have gaps on either side so anyone waiting for the loo can watch you having a poo. I don’t understand this. (This applies to the whole of America.)
  2. It has hurricanes
  3. The New York subway has, ostensibly, been designed with the express intention of sending tourists to the wrong place. At all times.
  4. Plugs do not fit plug holes, meaning that baths are not viable. I spend a lot of time in the bath and do not take kindly to this.
  5. Baths are so shallow that a deep long soak is a logistical impossibility. Again, this does not sit well with me.
  6. When you say ‘West twenty-fifth street and Eighth Avenue’ to a taxi driver, they will not understand you. They will continue not to understand you until you say ‘West twenty-five and eight.’
  7. New York, spiritedly individual and independent as it may be, is nonetheless part of a country that (at the time of writing: Nov 6th, 10.20pm EST) is 48% in favour of despicable arseholes like Mitt Romney.
  8. The money is all the same colour and you need an INFEASIBLY FAT wallet to carry it.
  9. When you are rude to someone they are really polite back. Which means you realise immediately that you are a wanker and then you have to apologise on the spot and they’re STILL polite and then you just basically hate yourself.
  10. There is never any reason not to be eating.
  1. There is never any reason not to be eating.
  2. The food is AMAZING.
  3. Even a total moron can find their way around. The streets are straight and they are numbered. Nothing like our squiggly tangles of streets named after dead men who liked to blow other people up.
  4. New York has nothing to do with reality so it’s ok to buy really expensive handbags on your credit card when you’re there.
  5. The vistas. Oh, the vistas! You turn a corner and there’s the Chrysler building in front of you. Or the Empire State. Or – at very least – a building that shits all over our very best skyscrapers in London. It’s like being on a film set.
  6. Vintage clothes shops. Huge ones. All over Brooklyn. So cheap they’re almost paying you to take away fantastic leather jackets and dresses and stuff.
  7. People actually say cwoffee and woffice and Noo Yawk.
  8. They do a good line in Blitz spirit during federal disasters.
  9. Duane Reade. It’s like Boots mated with Tesco and decided to leave their progeny on every corner. 24 hours a day. Oh and Wholefoods, which really deserves a blog to itself. Can you imagine being able to just grind up nut butter ON THE FECKING SPOT? (Awed silence)
  10. As discussed in my negatives list, there is the issue of the gaps around the doors of toilet cubicles. But what the American toilet does offer the casual pooer is a long, shallow bowl. Meaning a nice, comfortably silent brown-time without any fear of splashback. Ahhh. Now that’s nice.



This entry was posted in Lucy Robinson Blog, WELCOME TO MY ALL NEW BLOG. and tagged , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.


  1. Katy regan says:

    Awesome new blog. You sound HAPPY. Never mind Manhattan, this blog says rebirth to me, in all the right, poetic ways.. Waydego!

  2. Laura says:

    Hahaha only you could talk about pooing in a list of positives about New York! Having never been, the picture you’ve painted makes me feel a bit like I’ve been there and ground up the nutty buttery stuff my very self. x PS good work on the bag! Different postcodes don’t count. And when you’re spending dollars in a whole new zipcode then even better!

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *