Bright lights, big city

After a teary goodbye at Heathrow - me because I will miss my fellow Margraves and Jonny, mainly because he had just drove dad's (dog-bitten) jeep into a wall - we made it through security at terminal 5 and I couldn't help but smile at the designer shops while day dreaming of the bargains I'll pick up stateside - Jonny was fine too once we got him a Guinness.

A little frazzled from the past three months of life admin, visa dilemmas and knackered from all the eating, drinking and socialising we'd done before reaching this point, getting on the plane was quite frankly a relief. The plane journey was pretty uneventful - Jonny fell asleep and I watched a nice little film that I can't remember the name of. It starred Ryan Gosling though, and before we knew it we had landed at JFK.

Breezing through immigration - none of the nightmares we were expecting - we were out on the street hailing a yellow cab and on our way to the hotel where we're staying for the first few weeks. 

Waking up on that first morning was the weirdest feeling, half like we're on holiday and half not and the last few days have been equally amazing and terrifying as we try to work out how the hell we go about setting up home in the BIG apple. Jonny's new work mates have been amazing, taking us for beers on our first afternoon and offering help in any way they can. We've managed to kit Jonny out with new shoes, trousers and a swanky new man bag courtesy of Macy's for his first day on Wed - I feel like a proud mum. 

Yesterday we started our hunt for somewhere to live, stumbling across an amazing block of new build apartments, smack bang in the centre of Williamsburg. Definitely a little out of budget but it comes complete with gym, swimming pool, games room, door man and I think there might have even been a - wait for it - wine-tasting room, so I have made it clear to Jonny I'd feel at home there. I'll have to wait and see. 

Off to the social security office tomorrow to try and make Jonny a legal alien. Eek, keep your fingers crossed, I've heard they're a little skeptical of furry northern Irish men.