The neverending rumble of crosstown traffic. The pounding everpresent urgency. The cacophony of unending motion and activity, of infinite possible realities jostling against each other as danger lurks and adventure beckons everywhere. Millions of tales, waiting to be spun out, a constant, colourful racket, blaring out from hundreds of massive, crowded streets. Down in the Village, a kaleidoscope of sights and smells and sounds from halfway round the world, fragments of language caught on the air, colours bleeding into each other, hyper-vivid and irrevocably alive. The unmistakeable, monolithic presence of the city of New York, its ongoing clamour, audible through the walls, even as you sleep.