A Londoners first impression of New York City

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Across the Atlantic I find an anti-culture shock. Every step feels like a pop culture reference. The large suburban family home of Khalim's red headed Irish American family is so big and full of shiny American things that it feels like the film set of a sitcom about said family. Our train into Grand Central station races past buildings that look like the homes of the stars of Frazier and Friends, Sex in the city and Girls. New York accents really exist. Yellow taxi's really exist. The Statue of Liberty might not exist. The dust men and concierge and train conductors all look to me like they got their uniforms at fancy dress shops. This is because they resemble too closely the ones I've only seen in films.

We stroll around Manhattan. Colour is not chic. Fashion consists of expensive black suits and expensive black gym wear. Anna Wintour is this cities longest serving fashion icon. Breakfast in the diners sprawls over two plates but everywhere I look there's sushi and kale. New York has great dogs. The dogs are the real fashionistas here: every canine has a great coat and a good looking owner.

Two days and two burning feet later and I've done most of the sites: the Chrysler building, the flatiron building, the New York library and the Empire State. At union square I learn that chess isn't just for chess club: chess is for the hustler. 

I'm ready to venture further: so we walk, I think through little Venice, China town and the East Village although I can't be sure. We stare at the skateboarders in Washington State Park. There's some pretty great buskers as always. Busker's, like food and dogs, are in a different league in this city. My first steps into Grand Central Station sound like funk and soul and jazz. New York may not be the best looking or smelling city but it sounds and tastes great. 

Nights out are in Irish bars and restaurants. The Irish have been coming to America by way of New York since the 1400s. Take a ferry over to Ellis Island and you can find the names of all the Irish immigrants. Ellis Island, covered in renovated  hospitals and quarantine centers, was where the initiation took place. This is where the American dream was handed over. Today you are never far from an Irish accent: there are plenty of waitressing jobs in New York City for young Irish girls.This is because the Irish community is big and friendly and owns lots of restaurants. We eat great food, the drinks are always overpoured and people are friendlier that your standard New Yorkers.

On Sunday we are wise not to miss a browse around the Williamsburg Flea market, the winter branch of the Brooklyn Flea. Maybe my vision is rose tinted by the new johnlennonesque sunglasses I bought from a street vendor but I think we find better vintage shop that can be found in all of East London, Notting Hill or Camden high Street. I try on the jumpsuit of my dreams and feel pretty sad because I know we have to travel light and cheap. The smorsbourg market has expensive literal 'bites' to eat (not the portions New Yorkers are accustomed to). Wacky morsels such as 'ramen burgers', burgers with buns made out of noodle, make me laugh. On our way back we browse through rough trade records and stumble upon a candle lit talk by art legend Brewer P-oridge. Lots of the gems we find in Williamsburg are not for sale.

On our last day, we walk freezing along the Brooklyn bridge. I finally spy the Statue of Liberty and I feel I can say goodbye to New York City. I've found that there's a lot more to this city than that particular green lady.