A truckload of stuff and a month sleeping on a blow up mattress in an empty apartment before our truck full of San Fran furniture arrived.

Me and our boxes…

Now Rob and I have a a cosy flat in brand new Manhattan – close to development heaven in West Chelsea. Next to the river and its soft morning breezes, a haven of tree-lined brownstone streets and endless restaurants and cafes, and artist-run galleries.

Summer in Central Park running the Jacquie O reservoir track and becoming well-acquainted with the Guggenheim, American Museum of Natural History, and our darling Met (with whom we’ve developed a bit of a thing).

We’re still not quite sure what technically translates to 110 degree Fahrenheit – but the New York translation is sweat, and smell, and a definate need to carry perfume or roll-on at all times. Never ride the subway if you can avoid it – Ella Fitzgerald was wrong. I now know that subways are really not charming in the middle of July.

Broadway and Times Square is my new home! And the Hudson is a sanctuary on sultry summer nights after a long day in sigh Mid-town (yes, Mid-town. Everyday. Amazing!)

Some more of our fave spots: the Empie, MoMA, and a secret bar on the 65th floor of the Rock.

Empire State from 9th…

View from 65 Bar at 30 Rock…

Secret basement jazz bars in Greenwich and the East Village music and the West Village food.

Smalls in West Village…

New York is always a good idea. Fortune favours the brave I guess. And this time for us the gamble is paying off. Even if we end up freezing to death and broke from cold - we can live of Broadway theatre, world class ballet and lots of Jazz right?