After the colonial calm of Boston, we flew down to New York City. Or at least Julian flew down to New York - I have to take his word for it since I was once again stuffed into his briefcase. What made matters worse was that this time I was sharing the space with his dirty washing bag!
Security at US airports is rigid as one might expect. Belts, jackets, scarfs and shoes all have to be removed before going through the metal detector. This caused me something of a problem since my cape is sewed on so I was forced to ride the conveyor belt through the x-ray machine. I am expecting to find that my chances of motherhood have just been reduced.
New York is a great city, but its hotels are not. Julian says this is about the fifth time he has been to the Big Apple and the fifth time he has been in a hotel where all the money seems to have been spent on the lobby at the expense of the rooms. This one is particularly galling, with our room being placed next to the goods elevator and with no room to have one's suitcase open and walk around the bed. The internet access doesn't work (hence this slightly delayed posting) and the view is of an air-conditioning unit that rattles incessantly.
Thank God, therefore, that we don't have time to spend much time in the hotel. After a morning meeting with Patrick Quish in his offices, it's off to Grand Central Station (I looked in vain for Lex Luther's pad) for more tete-a-tetes with Tom Evans of Bloomberg TV and then David Morgan, Grand Wizard of the St David's Society in New York and general good egg. There's then barely time to get to Wells Fargo bank for our reception hosted by Andy McDonald. This is not the Wells Fargo I had imagined - there was nary a stetson in sight, no one riding shotgun, and we were treated to an excellent buffet with no bacon and beans at all.
There was a great diversity at this event, ranging from Anders, who had only graduated this summer from Film & TV, to David who wouldn't let me say when he graduated. Rebecca and Susannah had been exchange students and were only in Aber for a short time but were just as enthusiastic as the rest. Julian's speech is very good, I'm sure, but I have a horrible feeling that I am going to be sick to death of it after I've heard it for the thirteenth time on this trip.
After the event, we were taken by Rebecca and Patrick to the Waldorf Astoria for cocktails. The high life or what?? There was a sniffy head waiter who said they didn't serve sheep, but I pointed out that I didn't want a sheep but a Manhattan and he relented. After a couple of these challenging concoctions, it was back to the broom cupboard in our hotel and another sound sleep.
Security at US airports is rigid as one might expect. Belts, jackets, scarfs and shoes all have to be removed before going through the metal detector. This caused me something of a problem since my cape is sewed on so I was forced to ride the conveyor belt through the x-ray machine. I am expecting to find that my chances of motherhood have just been reduced.
New York is a great city, but its hotels are not. Julian says this is about the fifth time he has been to the Big Apple and the fifth time he has been in a hotel where all the money seems to have been spent on the lobby at the expense of the rooms. This one is particularly galling, with our room being placed next to the goods elevator and with no room to have one's suitcase open and walk around the bed. The internet access doesn't work (hence this slightly delayed posting) and the view is of an air-conditioning unit that rattles incessantly.
Thank God, therefore, that we don't have time to spend much time in the hotel. After a morning meeting with Patrick Quish in his offices, it's off to Grand Central Station (I looked in vain for Lex Luther's pad) for more tete-a-tetes with Tom Evans of Bloomberg TV and then David Morgan, Grand Wizard of the St David's Society in New York and general good egg. There's then barely time to get to Wells Fargo bank for our reception hosted by Andy McDonald. This is not the Wells Fargo I had imagined - there was nary a stetson in sight, no one riding shotgun, and we were treated to an excellent buffet with no bacon and beans at all.
There was a great diversity at this event, ranging from Anders, who had only graduated this summer from Film & TV, to David who wouldn't let me say when he graduated. Rebecca and Susannah had been exchange students and were only in Aber for a short time but were just as enthusiastic as the rest. Julian's speech is very good, I'm sure, but I have a horrible feeling that I am going to be sick to death of it after I've heard it for the thirteenth time on this trip.
After the event, we were taken by Rebecca and Patrick to the Waldorf Astoria for cocktails. The high life or what?? There was a sniffy head waiter who said they didn't serve sheep, but I pointed out that I didn't want a sheep but a Manhattan and he relented. After a couple of these challenging concoctions, it was back to the broom cupboard in our hotel and another sound sleep.
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