With love.

I'm writing this from home, so I'm feeling very strange indeed. Each day I lived in the city of love, lights and laughter I created a new cherished memory. Whether it was our walk in Central Park where we watched people and soaked up the sunshine, or the Wasabi-flavoured ice-cream, or exploring the Soho stores and loving the world each place creates for itself in its own corner of this crazy city. This place, I have realised, belongs to me. New York is my city. It is, however, also Jerry Seinfield's city, and God help me, "Carrie Bradshaw"'s city. It's Aaron's city, it's Gail Anderson's city. It has been Andy Warhol's, Audrey Hepburn's, Frank Sinatra's and John Lennon's. This city belongs to the guy on the corner making hotdogs, and the girl in the cafe who served me coffee every day.

Little wonder the city's brand is the simple red and black timeless "I love NY". It's the city's continued commitment to love and be loved, by anyone who'll embrace it.