This burlesque club contains a stripper pole, but is hardly worth it unless you know someone who will hook up drinks.

Coming back from from New Haven, we got off at Grand Central and he took me down one of the concourses to the place with the vaulted ceiling. He stood at one corner and I stood at another and we whispered into the walls, our voices drifting across to each other.

When I first moved to New York, enamoured by its parks and museums and design firms and restaurants and bars, I never imagined that there could be much more to its geography than that. How wrong I was. My first drive across the George Washington Bridge was jaw-dropping - the cliffs of New Jersey are astonishingly tall, covered in a dense thicket of trees. But that was just the tip of the iceberg. Drive up 87 to the Catskills or the Adirondacks and you'll witness the Hudson River winding its way through spectacular scenery and unforgiving seasons. Now I can't get enough; just two hours up the road, it's like the city never existed. Perfect recuperation after a long week.

An unchanged 1940s lounge known for its masterpiece Martinis and whimsical murals painted by the author of “Madeline,” Ludwig Bemelmans.

Leaf through over 30,000 artists' sketchbooks in what may be the world's largest collection.