I wake around six but it's after nine by the time I get myself together.
Winston and I head out for breakfast leaving Julie who's not going anywhere before she's had a cigarette.
There's a shop that imports coffee at the end of the block. We squeeze through the sacks full of coffee beans that line the shop, grab a take out and head across the street for one last Cafe Orlin breakfast special.
I order avocado on toast, two eggs (easy over), a side order of bacon and a large OJ. We talk about social media and the best #hashtags to use. But only too soon my time in the Lower East Side is up and I have to say farewell to my new friend Winston.
The text message from Uber tells me that Ahmed is arriving now on 7th street in a shiny black Lincoln MKT. Ahmed is from Egypt and has been living in New York for 15 years.
I only know one phrase in Arabic but when I greet Ahmed, his eyes light up. We talk about being a Muslim in the USA. ISIS, the cost of living and putting two children through college. I can barely get a word in edgeways. Taxi drivers are the same the world over.
As we leave Manhattan Island behind us, moments that I had almost forgotten come back to the front of my mind.
I remember things that I have seen only in New York. So many New Yorkers walking their little dogs. Peter in Union Square with his little Pug dog on wheels - Angel, and that makes me think of our little dog Woody and home. I don't think Woody would like New York, but New Yorkers would adore Woody.
I remember being told on Friday night that Quentin Tarantino had been seen amongst a crowd outside Village East Cinema. He was probably just passing.
I remember the unexpected smell of horses in Midtown Manhattan and the Texan cowboy with his sons Rusty, Rider and Stetson.
The Lincoln oozes comfort, but we have arrived at La Guardia airport so my journey with Ahmed is over. I've walked for hours, days and miles across Manhattan. My feet are doing OK despite a broken toe a few weeks ago (a horse trod on it). My boots deserve a little TLC in return.
I want to grab every last minute of New York that I can so I step into a shoe-shining chair. I've never had my shoes shined before and these boots have never seen a drop of polish in their life. According to the sign, there's three levels of shoeshine. I go for Bulletproof.
Christopher lives in Queens but is from Oregon in the Mid West. It's Little House on the Prairie and Wizard of Oz country he tells me.
We make conversation the whole time, about cob houses, wild pigs in Oregon and Thanksgiving. Christopher takes a genuine interest in my ponies. Perhaps he will tell his next customer about them and they in turn may take that little bit of knowledge on to another part of the world.
The sign on the wall tells me it's an extra $2 for boots but Christopher says he's had a good week so he'll only charge me the rate for shoes. I split the difference and give him the last one dollar bill in my wallet as a tip.
I make it to the gate with 10 minutes to spare. On the plane, the girl in the seat next to me is struggling getting her bags in the overhead locker so I give her a hand. She's a little fragile and has a hangover after two nights drinking till late. We make small talk then I leave her to it. Within minutes she's asleep.
I arrived in New York in the dark. As I leave the sun shines down. Just before we rise up into the clouds I look out to get my last glimpse of Manhattan Island and the River Hudson glistening below.
My welcome into the USA by customs officials in Detroit wasn't the warmest in the world - actually they were rather rude. I got searched 3 times and almost missed my connecting flight - but New York might just be the most welcoming city in The World.
I think of all the things New York has given me - culture, awards, new friendships and I hope that my films might have left a little something behind for New York in return.
#NYC you were utterly awesome.
One things for sure - this country boy will never be the same again.
