Top of the list of things to do on your birthday is visiting a castle. At least, if your name is Alexandra. Rob decided he wasn't feeling well, so stayed at home to get some more sleep. Hannah, Ally and Chris went off to Aughnanure castle, ancestral home of the O'Flahertys, located just outside Oughterard. We resisted the temptation to go back to the candle-makers...

The inside of the keep is home to lots of bats. They are a protected species, which is good news for them, and bad news for the décor.

We returned home, and dressed up for dinner.

Rob joined us as we made our way to Rosleague Manor, recommended to us as one of the nicest restaurants in the area by Emmy – and she should know, as Michael used to work there. She did say that there was a high chance of getting good food – 3 in 4. Not my idea of good odds!

Not to worry, however. The food was magnificent. I had steak, Rob had the local Connemara Lamb, and the girls had fish. Everyone enjoyed their food, and even the waiter dropping the mints in the water jug just added to the fun.

After a breakfast/lunch combo, we split up for the afternoon. Hannah and Rob went on a jaunt to Clifden, to explore the area for themselves, and to buy more rations and search for the items we didn't get in Galway. And covertly to buy Ally's birthday present and cake, and ingredients for breakfast tomorrow. They didn't find a tablecloth in Clifden either.

Chris went visiting, trying to see all the relatives that he had so far neglected. There just aren't enough hours in the day, particularly when it starts after lunch! First was my great-aunt Mary Wallace, who was also visited by John and Ray Cashen. They had been out fishing in the morning - on the sea. Ray was quite adamant it was an experience he didn't wish to repeat.

Next up were Desmond and Orla Wallace, who live just down the road from Mary. They weren't in, but I said hello to their eldest son, Philip, who has grown up since I last saw him - in every sense.

I then went down to Tully beach, to find that the stream that you used to have to cross on precarious stepping stones has been covered with boulders and concrete. It makes it much easier to get onto the beach, but the stream was much prettier. I took some photos, before coming back up the beach road to visit the relatives along it.

Margaret and John Pope have a summer house about two minutes from the beach, with glorious views of the sea and the mountains. Last time I was here, it was all alone, but it seems that the building industry is as vibrant here as at home - several new houses have appeared in the vicinity.

Kevin and Theresa McDonald are not in, so next call is Bridie Cashen. Her daughter Anna has just been Queen of Connemara for the day at the Clifden pony show - not bad for a country that has been a republic since it gained independence at the start of the 20th century.

The conversations with the various relatives take up the afternoon, and I walk back to the house to collect Rob, Hannah and Ally to go and get fish and chips from Tullycross. The fish and chip shop is open this time, and after a wait (food cooked to order), we get the food and head home.

First stop is at a candle maker's in Oughterard. Hannah picked up a leaflet for them earlier in the week, and we want to buy some candles for the living room. The candle maker is not in, but the shop is open, and we enter an Aladdin's cave of colour. Candles of all shapes, sizes and colours are stacked floor to ceiling. There's enough wax in the building to burn for a very long time.

We make our way into Galway and manage to find a parking space in one of the shopping centres, thanks to some eagle-eyed space spotting from Hannah and Ally. It's still drizzling. Lunch is a toasted sandwich in a pub, recognised by some brewers' association as being the best in Galway for its music, dance, beer and craic, but notably not for its food, which is passable. Rob finally gets a pint of Kilkenny, which he reckons to be the best beer in Ireland.

After lunch we go hunting for shopping. Hannah and Ally are perpetually distracted by shoes, though Ally isn't in the right frame of mind to shop. We visit a record store and buy a couple of DVDs, which seem to be very reasonably priced, unlike the food and drink, which are expensive.

Several hours, much searching, and a few purchases later, we have just about everything we came for - shower curtain, mirror, pictures, frames, lamp shades - but no tablecloth. We didn't really expect that to be the difficult purchase…

We get back to Renvyle after nearly being driven off the road by a maniac in a Mercedes, just in time for dinner with Emmy and Michael. They have prepared a feast, which is cooked by assembling the foods in a metal dish, and grilling it on the Raklet (sp?) in the centre of the table. This is a Swedish idea, and like the fondue it means that everyone can cook what they want to eat, and you can prepare food for groups of people whose individual tastes you are not aware of.

Joining us at dinner were Emmy's mum Liz (from across the road) and Liz's friend Monica. Michael gives Reiki massages, and this evening he had a client who was in turn a masseuse. She gave him a massage, and then joined us all for dinner. As she herself said: "Only in Ireland".

After dinner we provided musical entertainment, with a little help from the masseuse, and then Rob and I installed a new modem in Michael's computer. What should have been a five minute job turned into a two hour marathon, thanks largely to incompetent programming on behalf of the modem manufacturers, and unhelpful Microsoft Windows 98. Emmy also believes that Michael is disliked by his computer - sure enough, almost immediately after he left the office, the modem starting working. Spooky.

Another late, but enjoyable evening.

This calls for a quick change in plan; we were going to climb Letter Hill - the large hill/small mountain opposite the house - later in the week, but it would be criminal to waste the weather. And Hannah waterproofed her boots yesterday, so they're ready to be worn now.

Having made some sandwiches to take with us, and checked out where we should start from, we're off.

It takes about an hour to get to the top, and the view is well worth the hike. From the summit you can see the sea, three-times over as Renvyle is a peninsular. It's a bit windy, and at one point a cloud threatens to envelop us, but it doesn't, and the sun shines on us as we eat our packed lunch.

After an hour or so at the top, we make our way down again. This time Chris and Rob get their first, and spend some time playing "I Spy" with Hannah and Ally via text message. Ah, the joy of modern technology.

By the time we're back at the cottage we're exhausted. Food of choice for the evening meal is Fish and Chips, from the fast food café in Tullycross. We make our way there about 7pm, but find it shut, with no signs up telling us when it will open. Disappointed, and hungry, we go to Letterfrack to buy something to cook instead. Hannah samples the whisky at the Bard's Den, and we reject eating there as too expensive. By the time we go back through Tullycross the fast food place has opened. Oh well.

We had planned to go to Roundstone today, to visit the workshop of "Ireland's Master Bodhran make", Malachy Kearns. It's too late to make the journey worthwhile, so instead we go to Leenane. This fishing village, and the end of Killary Harbour, has been the setting for several films, most notably The Field, which starred Richard Harris and Sean Bean.

On the way we take the only road from Tully Cross that we haven't yet been down, and drive along the coast. We make a detour to Glaussilaun (pronounced Glosh-lawn) beach, and walk along the sand collecting sea-shells. The sun is out, and the sea is peaceful. Shame we didn't bring the swimming trunks and the towels. Bizarrely we manage to attract another dog, and by the time we're back to the car there are three of them. No owners in sight.

On to Leenane, and time for cake. Hannah and Ally have a coffee cheesecake, that Hannah is unable to finish; Ally resourcefully struggles (!) to the end. Rob has pear and almond pie, and Chris has apple pie and cream.

We go to the sheep and wool museum (yes, there really is one), to buy postcards and ask if there is anywhere in the village to buy fresh fish. Apparently the best place to get it is at a fish mongers in Clifden or Letterfrack. Oh well, so much for the fishing village.

We stop at the shop on the way back for mince and sour cream to have with our tacos for tea, and then wend our way home.

The weather has been beautiful all day, and the sky has cleared of all but the highest cirrus clouds. As sunset approaches, we decide that we're too tired to go to the Seisiun at the Teach Chiol. Hannah gets an invitation from Liz to accompany her there, and, on the toss of a coin, chooses that over going up to the radio aerial on top of the hill to watch the sunset with her boyfriend.

We get some beautiful photos, and an early night. Hannah however, does not…

{by Hannah:}I scuttled down the road to be greeted by Liz before even walking through the door. She apologises for not being ready, having been distracted by the gymnastics in the Olympics. After wheeling out the bike-mobile, we set off down the road with Liz doing about 90mph and me running alongside like a floppy eared dog in a desperate attempt to keep up. "Tell me if I'm going too fast..." Right. I get an interesting insight into local history, including a sad story about a spurned lover.

We get to the little hut to find the entire county has had the same idea. We fight our way in and take a seat on one of the narrowest rows of seats in the world. After another 75 French people come through the door, the lights dim and the show begins. A group of people ranging between token cute small children and characters who look older than the décor, mount the stage. We are then treated to a range of singing, dancing and music (not saying that singing isn't music…). The more senior members prove that age is not a boundary for leaping gracefully while the mini members demonstrate a scary amount of skill. All too soon this ends and we are ushered out of our seats in order that the centre of the room can become the stage for 'part 2'.

The second section appears to be a free for all where anyone can sing, play or dance. People volunteer (or find themselves volunteered) to demonstrate a range of talents. Even smaller cute children leap around and play wooden tin whistles, older residents offer unaccompanied singing with the rest of the audience spontaneously joining in with choruses. This is interspersed with audience participation dancing which inevitably goes completely wrong.

All in all, this was a very entertaining evening which ended with Liz lighting my way home and patiently answering my questions about painting. And inviting us round again. Hopefully next time with more leg-room.

Since I was last here they have drastically revamped the arrangements for visiting parties, making it much more appealing for coach parties. So appealing that the car park is virtually full, and our little Toyota is ushered into the coach park, to be dwarfed by several coaches carrying loads of German and American tourists.

We're here to climb to "the statue", a statue of Jesus that sits on the mountainside above the Abbey. It was a yearly ritual when I came here as a child, and although a strenuous walk, the view of the surrounding countryside is well worth the effort.

We pay our admission fee to gain entrance to the grounds (another innovation), and look at the map of attractions that they have given us. There is no mention of the statue. The signs from the road have gone too.

I go into the Abbey proper and find a friendly guide to ask if it is still possible to climb to it. "We don't encourage it" is the enigmatic answer. It seems that the path has become worn and the rhododendrons are taking over, and the Abbey don't want people suing them if they trip up. Having made sure that I won't be going up alone, which is reassuring, the guide reminds me where the path starts, and we make our way there.

The entrance to the school, where the path begins is marked "private". The start of the path proper, whose sign is still extant, has a gate with a new sign: "Danger - Path closed". They really don't want to "encourage" you to go up!

The journey down is a little more fraught, and Ally slips on one of the damp rocks, but she is unhurt, and we get down to the road in quick order.

Next stop is the Abbey itself. This is still a functioning building, but they have laid out a few of the downstairs rooms in the fashion that would have been seen by the Abbey's original owners, the Mitchells. The building was constructed in the mid 1800s, and was called Kylemore Castle. The construction and running of the building used many staff. Apparently they held parties there and could cater for (and sleep) 150 people.

Within the grounds there is a Gothic Church, constructed by Henry in memory of his wife after her death at 45. (He lived until he was in his 80s). It has been recently renovated, and is a marvellous "cathedral in miniature", with marble columns representing all the regions of Ireland. Nearby is a mausoleum where Henry, his wife and his son are buried.

Final stop in the grounds are the Kylemore Gardens. These were created by the Mitchells, and were used to feed the castle occupants and staff, and provide a respite from the Connemara weather. Until recently they were in a state of total disrepair, with a small section of the kitchen garden being used and maintained by the nuns. They have been restored since I was here last, using money from the European Union, and they are spectacular. The contrast between the gardens and the surrounding countryside is immense, and it is amazing to see what it is possible to grow here.

Next stop, Clifden, to get some shopping, and to let the estate agents know how to contact us, in case someone wants to come and view the house. Clifden is the largest town in the area, and has an interesting approach to car management. They have made the whole central area of the town a big one-way system, with car-parking spaces on both sides of the road. Being quite a busy little town, these aren't really sufficient, so the whole place turns into a big traffic jam as people spot spaces, and block the whole ring-road as the manoeuvre into them. We're quite lucky, and find a parking space fairly quickly.

Chris visits the estate agents and Hannah gets some shoe-laces, and after some deliberation over what and where we want to eat, we end up in Walsh's bakery. Being nearly 6pm, and this being lunch, we're quite hungry.

The supermarket is the next point of call, and now that we have a functioning fridge and freezer, it's time to stock up. Food here is not cheap, and the partially full shopping trolley ends up costing more than it should, but at least we have most of what we'll need for the next few days. They don't sell Quorn mince though, so we'll have to stop at Letterfrack on the way back to get some of that, and some ice cream.

In the evening, once we're back in Renvyle, Chris renews his acquaintance with the piano across the road, where he spent a lot of summer evenings improving his sight reading. Rob, Hannah and Ally join in, and Liz (the owner of the piano) is treated to the rare event of Rob playing classical music. A very late evening…

Up late
Breakfast
Car tour
Renvyle House Hotel
Renvyle Beach - rocks - Timmy
Shop - cleaning stuff
Fridge/Freezer
Dinner - Sausages/mash

We're flying from Nottingham East Midlands to Knock airport in Ireland. The airports at both ends are unusually conveniently located for our start and end points… but we've managed to create a logistical headache for ourselves.

Yesterday, Friday 13th, Chris, Rob and Hannah were at a friend's wedding and reception in Dunstable, Bedfordshire. We spent the afternoon -- between singing beautifully in the choir (we can say that because the priest, bride, and groom all said it to us) and dancing wildly in the marquee -- doing last minute shopping for the trip - including buying a suitcase for Chris, and shorts for Hannah. After returning from the wedding, Chris left his suitcase at Rob's house, so that he could catch the bus from Nottingham to the airport without having to manage a case through multiple bus changes, and Rob, Hannah and Ally could get to the airport without adding the 30 mile round-trip detour to pick Chris (and luggage) up from his home. After final packing, we all eventually made our separate ways to bed at about 2:30am. Why is it not possible to get a full night's sleep before travelling?

The plane leaves slightly late, and is very full, but the flight is fairly painless. Except for Hannah, whose ears don't like the change in pressure. The weather in Knock as we land is grey, but not raining. By the time we collect our luggage and our hire car, the sun is beginning to burn through the cloud.

The car is a Toyota Corolla Verso - this has lots of boot space, so our cases all fit in. It has no air-conditioning though. This would not normally be a problem in Ireland, a country not noted for its hot climate, but today it is quite muggy, and the dehumidifying properties of air-con would have been appreciated. As it is, we have to open the windows and expose our lungs to pure air. Having spent months preparing Rob and Hannah for the cold, wet weather that normally greets Chris on his holidays in Ireland, this is a nice surprise.

We stop in Castlebar for lunch, and eat in a nice, friendly, modern restaurant. They're showing the football - Tottenham vs Liverpool. By the time we leave (88 mins into the game), Spurs have equalised, and the score is 1-1. Rob hopes that his brother enjoyed the match… and that they didn't give away the points in the closing minute.

Continuing the journey we reach Westport, where the road signs develop in a Boston-like manner. Fortunately the drivers are much more tolerant than the Americans were, and we progress safely through the town.

Ireland has been the recipient of much EU funding, and it has used some of this money to improve its transport infrastructure - particularly the road network. Gone are the days when every road was a minefield of potholes and bumps. Nowadays only some of them are like that.

The further from the major conurbations you travel, the more the roads deteriorate. I guess this is true in England too, but it is emphasised here by the improvements that have been made to the major trunk routes. Having said that, our journey from Knock to Letterfrack was all on "trunk" roads.

Amazingly, all the way to Letterfrack, sunglasses were the order of the day. After a stop for shopping and ice-cream, we completed the last few miles to Tully.

I [Chris] spent most of my summers here until I was 18. My Grandma was born and raised in the Tully, and was one of 10 children. At the last count, on that side of the family I have over 100 living relatives, and a number of them live around the village - at least during the summer, anyway.

The house we are staying in was my Grandparents "summer" house; they lived here from May to October, and then in London for the rest of the year. Unfortunately my Grandma became too ill to live here - over an hour from the nearest hospital - six years ago, and they haven't been back since. The house was rented out, but when Grandma went into a nursing home last year, it was put up for sale.

Having been empty for the best part of a year, the house and garden are showing signs of age and decay. The gravel driveway has some grass and weeds in it, the house isn't gleaming white, and the garden is looking a little overgrown - though the lawn is still nice, as it is mowed regularly. Because my grandparents had always been in the house for months before we arrived for our holidays, all of these ongoing battles were kept out of sight. Now with the house empty, nature is beginning to win its ever present war.

Inside however, the central heating is on, and the kitchen and bathroom have been cleaned. The beds are made, and everything is ready for us - thanks to Theresa and Kevin for that! The kitchen has no fridge or freezer, but I've been told there might be one in the garage. It's locked.

Having sorted out who was going to sleep where, we turn our attention to dinner. We walk to the village to go to the shops to get some food - we decided not to get anything fridge or freezer related until we knew whether we had one… On the way back we visit Nonie, my great aunt, and David, one of her sons, to say hello, and to get the key to the garage.

We get back to the house and open the garage to find that there is both fridge and freezer in the garage, but they are in a bad way. The fridge in particular looks like it has seen better days. We'll need to clean them before we can use them. Ho hum.

Back in the kitchen, The cooker runs on Calor Gas. It also requires something to light it, as the automatic ignition hasn't ever worked. We have no matches. Going back into Tully (by car this time), we make our way to the pub, where we believe we should be able to get some. Since the beginning of the year Ireland has had a law banning smoking from the workplace. This includes all pubs and restaurants, which means that they are now pleasant smoke-free environments. As Rob and I have seen in New York and Boston, this means that the pavements become tobacco jungles.

The pub has no matches, but we buy a lighter instead, and a few drinks; no Guinness. Back to the house for dinner, where the rain finally catches up with us, though the sun was still shining, and then to bed.

Thirty-five minutes later, we finally come into land. The pilot (or maybe the autopilot) executes a perfect landing - no bumps at all. From being early we actually land 15 minutes late. We breeze through passport control, and our bags are waiting on the carousel. 10 minutes later, we're on our way home.

It's been fun. Hope you've enjoyed reading the diaries. Thanks for all your comments - nice to know someone is reading this stuff.

Until next time...

The building was restored in 1999, and shimmers with Art Deco radiance. The ceiling looks like gold leaf, but is actually golden aluminium leaf. The walls are marble or maple, and everything is specifically placed to heighten the audience experience. The auditorium itself seats anything up to 6,000 people, and the stage is 144ft across. That's big enough to have 36 dancers doing high kicks side by side (and they do).

There are no columns in the auditorium, and the 4 mezzanine levels, cantilevered from the back walls, are designed to ensure that no-one in the audience has a restricted view of the stage. The ceiling is golden, and looks like a setting sun, especially when lit with golden light, and the golden curtains are drawn. (You get the general drift of the design - gold.)

Few people have sold out the auditorium, and glass etchings commemorate those that did - including Frank, obviously, and Barney the dinosaur.

The tour was fascinating, and unlike the NBC tour, we did actually get to see the real back-stage life of the theatre (though unfortunately not the area behind the stage.)

We then wandered back to the hotel, looking for somewhere to have lunch/afternoon tea. We ended up eating in the café in the hotel lobby. It was ok; Rob had Blintzes - pancakes stuffed, in this case, with cream cheese. He didn't finish them.

The drive to the airport was by shuttle bus - it took an hour and a half, and we're glad that we didn't have to drive it ourselves. As usual, the signage was sparse and unreliable. To give them their due however, once on the airport road, the signs telling you which terminal to go to and how to get there, and even how to get off the airport again, were very clear and well laid out. The US Department of Transport should take note.

Check-in took a while, and then security made us nearly undress to come through the scanners - no belts, shoes, coats, jackets or bags. Not terribly friendly, but at least it should be secure. They could smile though.

The flight is not busy, so there's room for most people to spread out across multiple seats. We're all on board 30 minutes before departure, and we're about to leave early when the baggage people decide they want to put more luggage on. This results in us leaving JFK 15 minutes late. We watch the second Matrix film, before trying to sleep.

After lunch we went music shopping; Rob finally got his Beethoven score, and added a Brahms, a Dvorak, and a Ravel to it. Chris got another show score to add to the collection. Then back downtown to buy Rob another remote control. We then walked through Chinatown (another one) towards a shop selling cheap microphones.

The shop isn't open on Saturdays, so we can't come tomorrow. Unfortunately, it isn't open on Friday afternoons either, and in fact, doesn't look very open full stop. Another tube ride and we're outside the Empire State building.

The weather today has been showery, but we've run out of good weather days for this tall building. It's about 30 minutes before sunset. Probably. But there's no sun to set, so we'll just have to watch the sky change colour. There is a queue to have a compulsory souvenir photo taken, a queue to buy tickets, and then a queue to have our bags scanned (though not anything in our pockets). Next, a queue for the elevator. All of these have been quite short, but as we get out of the elevator on the 80th floor, we see another queue for the next set to the 86th floor. Only we only actually see the last handful of people in the queue. Around the corner is a room-full of people queuing. The sun is very close to down now.

We do get to the viewing platform eventually. There are a surprisingly large number of people, given the weather and the time of day (though not surprising having been in the queues...). We take lots of photos, and get to see the city at night. The Empire State is again New York's tallest building, and it's a long way down.

The queues on the way down are shorter, and our next stop is Macy's. The prices here are almost as unbelievable as the amount of clothes. There are two buildings, which have been knocked through. One is devoted to women's clothes, and the other (smaller building) to men's. We find the cheap stuff on floor 1.5, in-between floor 1 and floor 2. I guess it's kind of like platform 9 and a half at King's Cross. We didn't have to walk through any walls to get in though. Chris gets some new jeans, before we return to the hotel to pack.

Tomorrow's final diary entry will be published next week. I hope. Assuming that the scheduled airlines can avoid a repeat of the trip home from Canada...

We get to the heliport on time, but we are confronted with a locked door. One of the other passengers who is waiting outside informs us that we can't go in until we've been security checked. Nothing new there, expect that there is no-one from the company we're travelling with outside, and no sign up explaining why the door is locked. Everyone who arrives tries the door, before giving up and standing in the wind outside.

After about 20 minutes, someone finally comes out, takes our names, checks us with a hand-scanner, and lets us into the building. A couple of people from the previous flight got lost on the way from the subway station to the heliport (entirely understandable), which means that they are running a bit late.

Eventually we get on the helicopter; Chris gets to ride shotgun at the front. We're doing the "cheap" version - a 12 minute ride up the Hudson, back and round Liberty Island before returning to the heliport. The weather is perfect, apart from the wind. The pilot does a great job of keeping the machine steady in the wind, but you feel the underlying instability of the aircraft.

We get to experience all kinds of transportation on these holidays; there's only a few that we haven't done - hovercraft, jet skies and pedalo are the ones that come to mind.

The views are stunning - helicopter is the way to travel in crowded New York. The photos are great too.

After the ride, we explore the historic areas of South Street Seaport and the financial district. The Seaport has little of history left, but quite a few shops. Wall Street is surprisingly short, for a piece of land that dominates the world's financial systems. The New York Stock Exchange has an enormous American flag tied to it's columns, and the Federal hall has a big statue of George Washington, who was inaugurated as the first US President there. The NYSE also has barriers at 10 feet from the building.

Next to Battery Park, where The Sphere has been placed as a temporary memorial to the victims of the 9/11 attacks. It is a piece of modern art from the World Trade Centre which survived the collapse of the towers largely intact.

We avoid the queues for Liberty Island, and walk up the island of Manhattan through Battery Park City - a huge piece of reclaimed land formed from the rubble excavated from the foundations when they built the World Trade Centre.

Ground Zero is now a building site. A huge hole in the ground, covering 12 city blocks, is all that is left of the buildings. Some of the surrounding skyscrapers are still showing wounds of the collapse, but the process to "rebuild and remember" is well underway. We saw an exhibition in one of the neighbouring buildings about the process to replace the twin towers, and if Daniel Liebeskin's building actually gets built in the design he proposes, it will be a stunning addition to Manhattan's skyline.

We visit "New York's largest Home Entertainment and Computer Megastore" and emerge with only minor purchases. City Hall, home of NY's mayor, is next. It too has barriers to stop you getting close.

At this point we split up; Rob is staying in Downtown to get photos from the Brooklyn Bridge, while Chris goes back to the Theatre district to see Disney's Beauty and the Beast.

The show is great, though I don't understand why pantomime has never made it in the US; all this show lacked was the "he's behind you" audience participation. It even had booing, though the audience reserved that for the curtain call.

We go in, and get such a coupon, and walk to the theatre to buy tickets. After a quick sandwich for lunch, we sit down for our second musical in 18 hours. The settings couldn't be more different. Gypsy last night was in an large theatre, with a big name director and star, full band, and large, multiple sets; I Love You, You're Perfect, Now Change (ILYYPNC) is in a small theatre (240 seats), has a fixed set, 4 members of cast, a piano and a violin. It is a comedy musical, a collection of scenes describing the whole life of love, from first date, through engagement, marriage, kids, teenagers, to octogenarian romance.

We had one of the understudies, and at the interval another member of cast decided they were too ill to carry on. It hadn't been noticeable that she was ill. All five of the performers were very good. The show is an actors dream - everyone gets a solo, and they all get to play a wide variety of characters. It's a great show, and has been running in the same theatre for eight years.

After the show, we did our original planned walk - to the Lincoln Centre, where Rob failed to get a ticket for tomorrow night's performance of La Traviata at the New York Met. Then we go through a small part of Central Park, as the sun goes down. By the time we reach the UN building it is completely dark. There isn't a lot to see - they've even lowered the flags on the flag poles. The building is very dull; and there's a big area for queuing for the obligatory tour. We are unlikely to come back in the daytime, but if we get bored on Saturday afternoon, we'll know where to come.

Dinner is in a jazz restaurant on "Restaurant Row", a couple of blocks down from Times Square, and our hotel. They have live jazz groups in every evening, but not until 9:30pm. The walls are a dark maroon, and the only lights are candles on the tables. New York has a smoking ban, so there is no smoky atmosphere, but in every other respect, it feels like three o'clock in the morning.

The food is good, and if we weren't so tired, we'd stay for the live jazz.

Tomorrow, the world gets noisy.

(PS, We haven't got good internet access here either, so the photos won't appear until I get back the UK; they might be here by Tuesday next week.)