In an instant, we found ourselves on the top of a bus and set off, entertained by a young guide with an accent. The first stop where we decided to get off was Battery Park. The monument, supposedly pulled from the rubble of the Twin Towers, seems to scream: "Can't you see that these holes in me were made on purpose??". So, as you can understand, this sphere didn't make much of an impression on me. But we really liked Castle Clinton: it's so old and cinematic.. And Kirya kept running around it, shouting that he had often been here in some game, and that it supposedly looked exactly like it did there, and that he felt like he hadn't been here for the first time, and so on. I envied him a little and walked away to zone out by the pier. I immediately recognized the lonely silhouette of the most famous American woman in the distance; the poor thing has been standing there all alone her whole life. Since childhood, I've perceived her as a living person, probably because I love "Ghostbusters 1, 2".. It was quiet, and this stunning day with this shamelessly cool city was covered by a crimson sunset with a blazing huge sun, rushing to dive into the water as soon as possible. It started to get noticeably dark, and we trudged back to our stop. We got on some evening tour.

Empire glows temptingly with seductive colors, but for some reason, we decided to put everything off until tomorrow (we were fools, of course, the view of this night mess from above is worth a lot!). After driving around the center a bit, we transferred to a tour to Brooklyn. Damn, what a torture that was! I love cool rides, of course.. But riding across the Manhattan Bridge on the top of an open-top bus, which has a thin iron bar instead of a wall, when a slight turn of the head to the right and a glance down strips you of all courage (because there is a huge abyss there), and a piercing, prickly icy wind draws tears from your eyes... ugh... it's freaking awesome! =) And all the way across the bridge, everyone really thinks they are on a park ride because EVERYONE is screaming. (And I was filming a video the whole way, clutching the camera even with my teeth). (Tip: don't be lazy about wearing everything you can on this trip; I was wearing a sweatshirt, two hoodies, a hat, and it was still cold). As a "sweet treat," the tour included a stop on the shore and general admiration and photographing of the shining Manhattan through the eyes of envious Brooklynites. Having bought a fancy camera shortly before, I spent a long time zoning out over what settings to use so it wouldn't be embarrassing to show later, but I didn't understand a damn thing and took total crap (a lady with a small point-and-shoot camera was cranking out postcard after postcard at that time!). The road back, contrary to expectations, did not become less scary, but on the contrary, turned out to be even longer!

We drove around the center a little more and, exhausted by the storm of impressions, docked at Port Authority. I will describe our unpretentious "life" during these days a little. As you have already guessed, our shelter (a place where you sleep, wash, brush your teeth when you wake up, tidy up, relieve yourself) became Port Authority. We immediately agreed to call it "home". And my tongue doesn't even turn to call it a station. It is not only sterilely clean and beautiful, it is cozy! Yes, there is no soft bed or shower, but there are chairs (though not always free) in a small waiting room and the shoulder of a loved one. The first night we slept in turns (you understand that no matter how many of you there are, leave at least two on duty, I will tell you why a little later). It's hard. And several times a night, everyone without exception was kicked out of the hall for thorough cleaning and disinfection (not only the floors were washed, the seats and everything else were completely wiped down!). The state was such that it was better to lie in the dirt than to get up every time during these cleanings. That's how we suffered through the first night.