Many years ago, when I was much younger, I went to visit a friend at Harvard. A great time was had and I arranged to visit New York and fly back from there. So I hitchhiked. As I said, I was a lot younger and, clearly, a lot sillier. This was 1978 and New York was not the picture of peaceful, harmonious city living that it has become.

I got a lift easily enough from a couple in their 20s who drove me and talked all the way to NY. Driving through the city was an eye-opener as this was my first visit to the US. At some point we hit what I now know as the inevitable gridlock and, in my innocence and abhorrence of traffic jams, I said I’d jump out and find my way. I now realise that the looks of alarm on their faces were entirely justified, but I had arranged to meet a couple of friends at a bar in Greenwich Village and wanted to get there. So I said goodbye and got out.

Before my feet hit the pavement, one guy asked if I had any coke and another tried to sell me some. Obviously I should have paired those two up, but I should probably point out that I had grown up in the suburbs of North-West London. Nothing happened there and certainly not coke – in fact at the time I’m not even sure I knew what it was. Over the next 200 yards, I was offered and asked for an array of substances; probably drugs, but my lack of experience made that guesswork, since much of the time I didn’t even understand what I was being asked for. I was, however, pretty sure I didn’t have any of whatever it was. I was also sure that, young and reluctant to upset anyone though I was, I would reject the line of scantily clad ladies calling out to me from the boarded-up shop fronts. Did I mention this was around midday? Never found out what it was like at night! Or, indeed, which part of New York I was in. I departed the area as soon as I found a subway, booked into the YMCA in Manhattan and met my friends in the bar that evening.

Now, you would think that after that sort of experience a person would get the idea that they should be careful in this place, wouldn’t you? Well, after a pleasant but long evening in the bar with a very friendly barman, who only had three English guys to serve and delighted in treating us to the joys of tequila – many times – I needed to return to the YMCA, some 15 blocks north of the bar. My friends were staying round the corner from the bar, so we said goodnight and I began walking. Quite quickly I realised that it was 2 a.m. and I was walking through the docks of New York. To the side of me I was aware of shadows moving in the doorways. At this point, I was aware also that there was no turning back, so I stuck my hand in my shoulder bag and walked with as much nonchalance as certain parts of my anatomy would allow. The shadows kept moving but so did I. I reached the YMCA, breathed a sigh of relief and went to bed.

The next morning one of the managers of the YMCA told me that the room I had slept in last night was where, two weeks earlier, someone had been murdered. I didn’t know whether to be more worried about being outside in New York or inside!

Nonetheless, I loved New York and have been back there since – and still love it!