I remember when I saw Shadows, by Andy Warhol in that big room. I was sitting in a sofa, and felt asleep. When I woke up it felt incredible. When my friends come to visit me it's a place where I like to go all together.

I can’t get enough of the dioramas, but my favorite parts of the AMNH are the Halls of Meteorites and Minerals. There are some beautiful specimens here, and best of all you can actually lay your hands on the 4.5-billion-year-old Cape York Meteorite.

I'm a huge Japanophile: if there's one other place I'd like to live, it's Tokyo. I must have been there seven or eight times, most recently just after the Tohoku earthquake and tsunami. Anyway, EN is a gem on Hudson Street, serving real Japanese cuisine. It turns out that EN is a chain in Japan; there are a lot of branches making lovely bosky food in cosy neighbourhood locations. But their New York incarnation is grand in scale and ambition, with solid, warm interiors (not unlike if the Whitney were a Japanese restaurant, oddly) - a remarkable hybrid of this city, and the other one that I'd love to live in.

I have old friends in San Francisco who grudgingly tell me that the High Line is everything that's wrong with New York. Well, too bad. To me, it embodies a culture that's constantly reinventing itself: a defunct elevated railway that was becoming a burden to the city ("we used to climb up there to throw garbage bags full of rotting Korean food at the Hasids!", noted a successful photographer's assistant) becoming a startling example of urban greening for the public good. The expert landscaping makes it feel like walking on a Montauk beach - but a stone's throw from some of New York's most progressive galleries and hotels.

After the full moon, when the tide is the lowest, you'll find a century of fossils from a gone NY, trails of washed-out rainbow colored bottles, a graffitied shipwreck buried by time. Hundreds of years of history written in the sand.