Mr Button’s journey began mid morning in the UK on his flight to JFK airport. The journey was mainly uneventful save for Mr B’s continuous outrageous flirting with the flight attendants. Landing stateside we made a hasty trip through customs, unhindered by too much queuing, for which I was grateful. I wasn’t sure how much more time I could spend in close proximity with someone quite so gregarious and loud (I’m talking about Mr B here, not the Americans).

After a perilous taxi journey from JFK, in the company of some fellow reserved Brits, we arrived at our first port of call. Mr B had decided he wanted to ‘keep it real’ with his accommodation in NYC and so we are staying in a house mainly used for voluntary workers but with a few bedrooms for hire for visitors. The room is basic but comfy and in a good location close to lots of amenities.

When we stepped outside on our first gaunt around the neighbourhood, Mr B commented that it was akin to stepping into a giant tumble dryer, it is a most peculiar heat even the breeze, what there is of it, is hot. Not wanting to stray too far from the norm and getting crotchety now the jetlag was kicking in Mr B headed for the nearest golden arches for tea, not the most original but good for people watching, then back to the house for an early night.

Tomorrow we hit the city.