New York, New York

Once again, I have to spend several hours trying to finding tonight´s bed. Once again I´m presented butter where no butter is necessary, this time, with waffles. And once again, I use as much of that butter as I can stomach.

Photo: trialx.com, More Butter! More Syrup!

I could stomach a good amount of the butter, but my early afternoon pretzel is proving more difficult. The salt to bread ratio is as incredible as it is disgusting. I have to brush off most of the salt to force the thick, dry, tasteless bread down. Pretzels are disgusting. Worst bread ever.

Stumbling across the New York branch of the Porter House - the London branch is home of the best St. Patrick´s Day party in town - I decide that for that awful salt-ridden mess, I deserve an ale. Three ales later -  ales need not be deserved nor earnt - I wander off to the boat bound for the ultimate landmark, the Statue of Liberty.

The audio guide for the statue is extremely boring and contains no detail whatsoever on the filming of Ghostbusters II, nor Jungle 2 Jungle. More disappointing, the inside of the statue is closed until November. I will have to come back to climb out of the eye and onto the crown.

Photo:  onthesetofnewyork.com

I think I've found the sign that Mick Dundee climbs in Crocodile Dundee. Of course, I have to climb it, but the horse mounted policeman does not arrive. Nonetheless, another New York box is ticked.