Washington Square Park.

I just picked an awesome $3 breakfast, a coffee, ice cold bottled water and bagel from a street vendor. It’s 7:35am. With no particular direction in mind, I found myself walking through a quiet SoHo, still deep in slumber. I soon wandered into the beautiful Washington Square Park.

The sun is out, the bench is empty. I can pull out my pocket notebook and take a breath.

I am surrounded by a three hundred and sixty degree ring of greenery and I have every intention of enjoying the warm rays on my skin before the sun takes full effect.

The young woman to my left appears to be my carbon copy: bottled water, a black pair of TOMS shoes with bare feet resting on the ground and notebook in hand.

As I focus my attention away from my bench counterpart, I notice that the flowing water from the fountain that sits within the centre of the park is serving as the soundtrack for every person in the park but me.

The Civil Wars have now been removed from my ears, I bid farewell to their sweet Alabama harmonies.

Removing the audio barrier between myself and the park creates a different kind of awareness.

I have opened my ears to the song of water, a light breeze and yoga classes on the grass just a few meters away. This makes me appreciate that this beautiful morning is not my unique experience.

Observing the people that that have chosen to spend their morning here is a beautiful privilege. It is another moment driven by serendipity and sweet luck.

Today the comfort of my iPhone is turned off. It’s so easy to hesitate and plan, but where is the fun in that? How else would I have ended up here?

I would not have spent a day simply drifting through Williamsburg, surveying the incredible street art. I would not have met Rob, the freelance Android developer who acted as my walking spirit guide through the Brooklyn startup spaces.

After feeling completely present in this moment and armed with just a pen, notebook, cash, credit and ID, I feel ready to explore again.

A stream of consciousness from @bluebottlenyc

My favourite thing to do is pull out my Macbook Air in a cafe and let words flow through. As powerful as caffeine, the experience feels natural and cathartic.

I”m a little over halfway through my US adventure which thus far has led me to Seattle, WA where I spent time with the US Deloitte Digital crew and inhaled my body weight in caffeine, Seaside Heights, New Jersey and New York City.

After what feels like a fleeting five days in New York, I now find myself sitting at a table at Bluebottle Coffee in Williamsburg, Brooklyn.

It could be the Fleetwood Mac playing softly in the background, the comfort of awesome coffee or the dry humour of the barista standing behind the bright red La Marzocco espresso machine, but this is the first time that I have written since arriving in the country nine days ago.

It”s quiet here. There is a tinge of sunlight making it”s way through the open shop front, just enough to provision the large space with a subtle radiance. People walk in and out but no real crowd forms. Bluebottle is situated on Berry Street, a stone”s throw away from the main strip and crowded wifi cafes of Bedford Avenue. The word I use to describe this place is “chiller”.

After hustling through Chinatown, knocking back scotches in TriBeCa and shopping on Broadway, this is a rare moment of perfection.

A communal table, a fedora, a $3.75 coffee and the sense that nobody gives a fuck.

I now realise that I have just under two more weeks to explore the city, to become a little more familiar with it”s anatomy and to understand the allure of the constantly beating heart of New York.

It had to be the fedora.