Dreamers with empty hands/ They sigh for exotic lands/ Its Autumn in New York / It's good to live it again.

It's the nicest season in the best city in the world. Woke up in Africa, took a crap in London, watched sixteen bad movies in coach, was at Pegu by 10pm & at Ssam bar for pork belly buns and head-cheese terrine round midnight. New York is oddly, wonderfully, weirdly quiet after the insanity of Bombay. Silent and serene. Happy to be home.