London calling

We made landfall in Blighty a couple of days ago. As predicted, my tea consumption has significantly increased and the weather is dull and grey.

Next priority: job hunting...

The running man

As Jonathan and I were ambling through Charleston's historic section we got to talking about the 1920s dance craze named after the Confederate city.

The Charleston, with it's heel kicking, windmilling arms, was favoured by the Flappers back in the day. It got us thinking: how does one describe how we dance in 2005? Despite making a living out of talking and writing about dance for the past few years, I drew a blank.

I cast my mind back. In the 80s we had the spandex-clad Solid Gold Dancers. I have them to thank for a prize-winning disco routine at intermediate. The booty for shaking my 11-year-old booty was hardly worth it: a packet of O'Ryans chips. I've often heard dancers say they dance for love, not money, but how about for chips? That's not the only dancing ignominy I've suffered: I broke my collar bone break dancing, and in the 1990s I got shin-splints doing the Running Man. After that it all gets a little hazy. I know that there's been a resurgence in tango and salsa - Jonathan and I took salsa lessons in Havana, stuttering our way through a few short phrases - but what's the dance of the man on the street called these days? Does anyone have any ideas?

A few days later we were were in New York, which had become the home for 37,516 running men and women. The finishing line of the New York Marathon was in Central Park, a short walk from our hostel accommodation. It was inspiring to watch the runners battle through the last couple of miles, spurred on by the crowd who called out their names and clapped their support. Talk about guts. The next morning I followed their footsteps (albeit only 5 km) as I jogged through the iconic park.

New York was a fantastic end to our American travels. I fell in love with the place. We ate hotdogs and bagels, hung out with our friend Phoebe in Brooklyn, rode the subway, checked out the Met and had a Sleepless in Seattle moment on top of the Empire State Building at midnight. Magic.

The Big Apple

Nashville, Memphis, Huntsville, Knoxville, the Smoky Mountains, Cherokee Nation, Columbus, Charleston, Savannah - and now New York.

Sorry for being so slack updating and posting pics, but it's sometimes hard to find time to sit down at Internet cafes. Georgie's hoping to write about Nashville and today's New York marathon before we fly out to Heathrow tomorrow.

But in the meantime, a few snatches: ice-skating in Central Park; Georgie shopping in Bloomingdales; lunch at Second Ave Deli and walking the Brooklyn Bridge; whiskies late at night in Brooklyn with Phoebe; cheering on the runners through Central Park today.