My return to New York is a mixed blessing

Ha, ha! What London turned down, the Bagel accepted with alacrity, namely the poor little Greek boy. And it took ten minutes max after disembarking to go through customs and collect my luggage. Kennedy had fewer people than a gay wedding in Saudi, and then some.

Mind you, the Upper East Side, where I live, is also as quiet as a grave, the only sound being the occasional ambulance with its siren on racing for a tea break. Central Park, now devoid of tourists, has never looked better, weeping willows with recently sprouted leaves, birds singing the length of an empty Park Avenue, long green lawns stretching out northwards, cherry blossom galore — it makes one feel swell to be alive. All last week, up before sunrise and training in the park, I thought back to the years when sunrise meant only a struggle to get home. I don’t regret a thing, but still, it’s strange but nice to feel good early in the morning.