New York is known globally for its amazing focus on customer service. If it rains, then before the first drop hits the ground there will be someone there selling umbrellas, if you cant see the meniscus on the liquid in your glass then there will be someone there trying to fill it to the brim. The service really is exceptional. New York is also known globally for the sights around every corner. You can happen across film sets without knowing they are there and every street seems to be famous.

Like most of Ruffian's experiences we had New York with a bit of a twist. We saw no world famous sights and all the service we received was with a grimace, that was however until we were enveloped in the closeted and opulent surroundings of the famous Manhasset Bay Yacht Club.

The train, or in American speak the LILR, as we were to learn, is the one and only way to get into central NYC. We purchased our tickets and were pleased that there was a screen between us and the LILR ticket officer. These screens are usually employed to protect employees from the public, but in this case it was definitely the other way around.

The no 1 sight on our list to 'do' in NYC was to visit a photography shop so that we could sort out our poor camera which Iain did such a great job with breaking all those months ago in the Bahamas. B & H Photography is renowned and is like no other shop we have ever been in. Trying to buy anything there is akin to trying to buy potatoes, during a potato famine, in cold war Russia.

First of all you queue to see someone who clearly thinks your primary reason for talking to them is to cause a public nuisance, after suffering the poor soul's wrath you leave them with a simple piece of paper. As you wander around the shop, anything you pick us is quickly replaced by these magic chits and your wanted product is whisked away on rails above your head giving the whole shop a Willy Windka feel. After you've got a collection of chits just big enough to form a novella you exchange these, along with your credit card details for an exit ticket. Having grown tired of this world of queuing and confusion your chits, with a bit more queuing, are magically transformed into the goods you'd seen around the shop and you are ejected from this little communist enclave to a sea of humanity that swarms on the streets of NYC.

Happy with our purchases and that we'd survived our B & H experience we sought out a Chinese eatery that was raved about in our guide book. Raved about for it's 'value' and 'volume', and any mention of 'service' was conspicuous by its absence. Fiona ordered 'double roasted pork' and Iain opted for the bizarrely named 'orange beef' and as it arrived we both did an outstanding job of catching our plates, aka Frisbee's, as they skidded across our table. The food was simply amazing and we think we deserve a medal for our catching abilities.

The afternoon's activities involved Fiona having an MSG low and so we escaped from all hubbub into the sanctuary that is Central Park. Central Park gives people watching opportunities that are second to none. Nowhere else in the world could you see overweight middle aged men sword fighting (complete with an audio soundtrack), people riding skateboards covered in lycra (and pushing themselves along with poles), girly girls who think their little dogs legs don't work (as they carry them in handbags) and the crowning glory was the dwarf sitting in the passenger seat of a pink stretch hummer with gangsta rap filling the park with expletives (yes really a dwarf in a pink stretched hummer). You couldn't make it up!

Back on Ruffian chores were the order of the day and as we returned from grocery shopping in an overloaded Thug we spotted an errant dinghy burning around the bay (just within the no wake limit obviously) and then dinghy, with owner, made an approach. Out of the blue the dinghy driver said 'Are you Iain? And if so this must be Thug?' Iain was somewhat taken aback but managed to maintain some modicum of composure so that he didn't look more stupid than usual. Mike, the errant dinghy driver, having found us in the virtual world of blogging invited us and Larry to his real world 'sailing club' for an 'informal dinner'.

Mike's sailing club happened to be the Manhasset Bay Yacht Club and an informal dinner found Iain digging around in the depth of lockers looking for shorts with legs (read trousers) and Fiona looking for a frock that would pass muster. All poshed up we were only let down by our footwear. It was going to be Dubarry sea boots or flippy floppies and so an hour later we approached the Yacht Club, with its underwater lit swimming pool, swooping lawns and palatial columns, wearing our best, and only, flippy floppies.

Instead of the red carpet treatment Thug got the green carpet treatment, the yacht club is so well appointed that instead of leaving dinghies bobbing untidily on the water you effortlessly pull them on to a carpeted pontoon where they can be lined up like soldiers waiting for action.

The yacht club was as lavish inside as it was out. All the varnished surfaces held a shine that can only be obtained from years of love and care and in its lustre you could see the reflections of generations old silverware and art works. If felt like we'd just been transported back into the Royal Yacht Squadron or the Royal Corinthian in Cowes.

All the service we'd missed out on in NYC was balanced by that at the Yacht Club. We felt like kings as we were waited on hand and foot while we sampled the best delights of the yacht club's kitchen. Mike and Maureen were a delight with their stories of travelling the world and high stress corporate life. We cannot thank Mike and Maureen enough for inviting us to their club and taking us under their wing.

Saying goodbye to such surroundings is always hard but as ever there is the need to see what is around the next headland and so around that headland we'll be going. That is of course if the fog clears enough to see it or indeed Ruffian's bow.

Public transport New York style spells deserted.


Righteousness over peace. That explains a lot about the American psyche.


They'll eat anything in NYC.


The oasis of Central Park looked over by skyscrapers.


Fortune cookies can really tell your fortune.


Wow. Wow. Wow. We spotted the Ghostbusters tower.


Yellow cabs are everywhere.


That's a lot of walking. Iain's (and Fiona's) walking boots are due for the bin.


The jobs on Ruffian never stop.


Larry takes on the role of being a flag officer in the Manhasset Bay Yacht Club.