Twitchers and Turtles

At the end of 48 hours in sticky Manhattan I've discovered that New Yorkers are friendly, and that Central Park doesn't have proper names for its lakes. I've been on my own since arriving here - and wondered how that would be in a city I've only seen in news bulletins and movies. Would I be safe? Would I get lost? (The answer to both questions is Yes!)

* Stuck at JFK, with no idea how to phone the people I should have met, an incredibly helpful staff member showed my how to buy a Sprint phone card, and even dialled the number for me. Thanks Tara!
* Having discovered the people I was meeting had gone on without me, I caught my first Yellow Cab. In the movies, cab drivers either chat non-stop, or turn out to be villains in disguise. This one preferred the ball game...
* A walk into Central Park in the morning brought me to 'The lake'. (The park also houses 'The pond', 'The pool', 'The reservoir' and 'The loch'!) Great views, and an unexpected sighting of a melee of turtles squeezed together on twin rocks. Later, I went to Belvedere Lake, which seemed a rare exception in having a proper name - only to discover that it's now called Turtle Pond. (With an absence of turtles...)
* Back at The Lake, I met a delightful bird-watcher, who was at great pains to clarify that he was NOT a 'Twitcher' as we Brits like to say, but a serious bird-watcher. I learnt how big his patch is in the park, the precise start and end times of his daily bird-watching stroll, and how to recognise an American Robin (much bigger than ours, with an orange breast and white rings round its eyes - I've met several today). This is the most I will ever want to know about bird-watching - but he was a joy to talk to.
* Later, on my way to 'The reservoir', I stopped to bask in the cool, smooth tones of a Mississippi jazz band. Their CD is my first official souvenir of my trip. Hey man! After which, a hot dog felt like the NY thing to do.
* Foot-sore, but content, I ended up in the Guggenheim Museum. This Frank Lloyd Wright marvel is swathed in scaffolding - but still a wonder to behold. I loved the building - and the art - and my Scottish genes loved the reduced entrance fee! Inside, another friendly American chatted knowledgeably about Japanese art - slightly bizarrely, we were in the Neo-Impressionist section at the time!
* After the l-o-n-g trek back to my hotel, it's now 6.15pm. But my body clock knows it's really gone 11! I hope I'll feel more awake for our first choir concert tomorrow night - or my singing may be rather random...