My internal compass switched back on this morning, after a sleepless flight and, honestly, not really being physically ready for this trip after a five month work marathon. Crabapple was leading me around like a giant confused child last night, ensconcing me in the Brandy Library so I couldn’t hurt myself. But today I know where I am, and the Lower East Side and SoHo are crisp and leaf-strewn and lovely. Late breakfast at my favourite SoHo stop, and lots of coffee, and I’ve found my feet and I know where I am. I always seem to wash up in NYC in late autumn. The city is healing me, the way it always does. The streets unfold before and take me where I need to be. I may yet make it through this tour.