The Apartment

En route to my new abode, the taxi driver informed me the road was still closed due to the steam pipe explosion. Seeing as I had three bags, there was 80% humidity and it was raining heavily, this wasn't the best news to greet a girl.

Happily, it turned out my luck had finally changed and the road was indeed open. And so I stumbled upon my lovely new apartment.

The doorman and concierge were friendly and helpful which was fortunate, as I ended up asking them a series of questions which I now know must have seemed ridiculous.

For example, I asked where I could buy a hairdryer (blank looks. It's a blowdryer here). They suggested I went to Duane Reade, and it was my turn to look blank.

The concierge seemed taken aback and remarked he was surprised they didn't sell them. I replied that the problem was that I had no idea what 'Duane Reade' was. At this point, he looked at me as if I was from Mars.

After a few days here, I can see why they looked so confused. Basically, there are more Duane Reade drugstores in NYC than there are Starbucks in central London. They're kind of like Boots, apart from they also sell household cleaners, cigarettes and alcohol (and blowdryers). Interesting mix.

Oh and by the way, it's nearly a month now without cigarettes.

I'm up on the 45th floor, which doesn't seem that high when you look out the window as all the other buildings are so high. You start to notice it when a) you are at cloud level some days and b) you look down. I tried to take some photos to illustrate this but it just doesn't do it justice.

One last shopping point: They don't have chip and pin here. You sign your name on a screen and it digitally checks it. I keep panicking - what if I sign my name after a few too many? Will it still recognise it? I suppose that remains to be seen.