Well, look at that. There's just about time for one more tiny update on Cinderfella in the Big Apple.
Not much time though, since I've only got about 15 minutes before they call my flight. Fortunately today was spent largely doing things by mistake, so this'll be a knockabout, Keystone Kops kind of travelogue rather than the overwritten purple prose you have doubtless come to expect.
I'll tell you what was NOT a mistake- going to Gray's Papaya for hot dogs. Shamefully, I did this because of the rightly forgotten Matthew Perry/Salma Hayek vehicle 'Fools Rush In' (in which it turns out that fools rush in) which must have taken a hefty kickback from the Gray's people as the plot turns, as so often in romantic comedies, on a Fed-Exed hot dog. Blimey, but they're good though. So good, in fact, that I searched around the village for a second branch because I wanted another go on them without the staff laughing and calling me fatty. I didn't find the other branch, but I found the Stonewall Inn, which probably says something about something. I took a photo of the outside like a good little boy and then headed uptown to explore the park.
Rather further uptown than I hoped. My friend Alice was once visiting me and I told her to get the Thameslink from King's Cross. Unfortunately I forgot to mention that there are stopping trains, and trains that whizz off to St Alban's with nary a backward glance. I discovered this when she sent me a text saying 'Help- I think I'm being kidnapped by a train'.
Well, the subway kidnapped me today. I decided not to get off at 59th, because I thought I'd have an amble down from the middle of the park. This plan changed when the next stop on the inexorably thundering train was 125th. So I got to have a look at Harlem, strolling to the northern end of the park via a road which appeared to be called Adam Clayton Boulevard. Bono must be furious.
Once in the park, my famed sense of direction kicked in and I walked round in circles a few times before giving in and taking the subway back down to 86th, and walking down to fifth avenue from there. There was a lake, there was a big fountain that they ran round in 'Friends', it was sunny, it was pretty, I took some photos. You should know by now that descriptions really aren't my thing (for example, there are five windows on the frontage of the Met, not the four I raved about) so I recommend you just look at some pictures of Central Park and imagine a tubby balding man getting lost in it; you'll pretty much be on my page.
And now I've got to get on an aeroplane. Bye bye NY- you have given me several very compelling reasons to return.
*if you don't recognise this reference blah blah blah etc etc