When I am in London, I'm usually in shock. There's not much deep thought happening. I'm too flooded -- concrete facts sinking in the visuals, feelings, stimuli. It's a miracle I manage to get around.
Read MoreWe wake up to loud music playing at the hotel room next door, a song is ending, and the beginning of "New York, New York" starts. Edward lifts the receiver of our vintage 1960s phone (its a boutique hotel, with a 60s mod theme) and whispers in French. The only thing I can translate him saying is: "We can hear music, 'New York, New York.'" Then much more is said in French, then he hangs up.
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