NEW YORK, Feb. 18, 2005 — It's time to get out there and see those gates! So we wander a bit of the park early, having roused early in spite of the one hour time difference and gotten ready.

We begin to appreciate all the angles, the way the light has its way with the cloth, creating a wonder of color and shadow and depth and repeating. Like Christo and Jeanne-Claude knew it would.

We slip over to Madison in search of breakfast.

We find a little place on Madison, the twelve-foot wide Viand. (I love eating in fancy places in New York but I also love discovering your own favorite little place for a breakfast or sandwich or soup.) We have some eggs and toast and coffee and head back to the park. During this foray we find a volunteer distributing the orange swatches of fabric samples. We see Albert Maysles, riding in a cart, looking about, concerned it seemed to me. Not filming anything. (He is a documentary film maker who has made many films about Christo and Jeanne-Claude and their projects.) These first forays into the park have my shutter finger itching. You want to shoot every contrasting element (like the mounted police or a taxi or the Plaza Hotel) or shoot them with people or just for themselves. You can shoot directly into the sun, using the fabric of a gate to avoid whiting out your pictures. As I looked around I saw many camera buffs getting their own angles. I wondered (and would many times over the next couple of days) how many photos would be shot of the park by the end of this art installation. The artists give us the experience, the swatches and our own photos and video.

From time to time there is an insipid snow flurry, then sun. It's quite cold. In the teens I'd guess. Finally we are a little cold. We retreat to the Time Warner Center. They have done up their entrance by hanging a surround of orange curtains, reminiscent the gates. We go to Borders Coffee Shop operated by Dean and Deluca. I have a coffee and camp out, reading and writing. FFP wanders off to Cole Hahn looking for some kind of socks he doesn't find. It's a bit of a tradition that he has to buy something on a trip that we should have brought along. They don't have the socks, though.

We go back to our hotel which is just down the street. We dress up a little exchanging sweaters for blazers and hiking boots for dress shoes. We time our walk back to the west to arrive at the Mandarian Oriental hotel in the same complex we just came from right on time. The restaurant is on the 35th floor. Three of our guests are already there. Two call shortly on the cell phone. We are seated. Wow! We are in the corner with two glass walls. You can see the park with trails of gates.

The food is that dainty and delicious Asian-influenced stuff and I enjoy it and we have some Australian Pinot (the first one I've ever had, I think, a Penfold's) but more than the food and wine, I enjoy the company. The conversation flows around 'how do you know LB & FFP' and moves on to work, travels and adventures and technology. Our friends Leslie and Tommy have driven in from Bronxville, our friend Michael has taken a cab from the upper East Side and our friends LG and Pam have flown in from Austin and California respectively. Leslie (seen with LG) has dressed in an appropriate shade of saffron. I haven't seen Tommy (shown with Michael) in ages, maybe in a decade. Pam (shown here laughing at something Michael said while FFP looks on) and LG saw the Reichstag wrapping with me in '95.

The food and wine and company keeps us at table a good while. After coffee we bid our friends on their way here and there (Michael heading to the park to take some shots of the gates to add to his bird's eye view ones from the restaurant). We feel like a bit of rest and depart to our nearby hotel. On the way we see someone from Austin headed to the park. What are the odds?

Someone has invited us to dinner and fairly early at that. We dress up in our best and head a short way up to the Plaza Athenée hotel and the Arabelle restaurant inside. It is cold and a bitter wind blows. But, it isn't far. We are early but another guest is even earlier. We sit to have a drink with her. I test out the bar's Manhattan. While we are sitting there, FFP swears he sees Charlie Sheen duck through the lobby. Our host arrives and we go to the dining room. We have a phenomenal meal. Mostly because of the wines that our host picks. The '83 Margaux and the excellent Montrachet he had them serve while the Bordeaux opened up. We picked foods off the special saffron menu and got an excellent fish and soup. The help tried to pitch a Yquem for dessert but we all declared ourselves at a stopping point. I have to say that the service was a bit strange. But otherwise the meal was quite fine and the discussion great. Since the host had treated us to a meal previously, FFP valiantly excused himself to try to pay the tab. (Which surely exceeded our hotel bill for this stay.) But the host had sway and he didn't succeed.

The wind seems to have died down and the way back to the hotel is pleasant enough. We keep saying, "I can't believe he ordered those wines!" We go to our room, dump the coats and go to Harry's Bar in the hotel for a nightcap...an overpriced B&B. Then it's time for sleep.