Diary – 19 September 2009

Everywhere I go in Manhattan I meet British tourists. ‘Oi, Boris,’ they shout across the street, ‘who let you out, then?’ How come it is the Brits, with their puny devalued pounds, who are swarming through the streets of New York, when the New Yorkers have stopped coming to London? Tourism from North America to London has fallen by 21 per cent. That is why I am over here leading a London delegation. We are here to fly the flag for our city, to drum up investment, to illustrate the sensational value represented by sterling denominated assets — and before you even ask, let me assure you that my mission is not costing the taxpayer a red cent.

The big political question here is still health care. Obama is a beautiful guy, everyone says, but does he have the muscle? Can he deliver? People try to get me to comment. They want to hear a ruling from a Brit. They want to hear my views on our wonderful National Health Service. My strong instinct is swerve. As the man says in Dodgeball — the world’s greatest ever film — dodge, dip, duck, dive and dodge.

If cornered, I play my ace. I point out that I was born 45 years ago in New York, because that is where my parents lived, and I wanted to be close to my mother at the time. My parents were both impecunious students, and therefore qualified for the Puerto Rican health programme. My nativity was funded through the generosity of the taxpayers of New York City. This makes me not only a New Yorker but an honorary Puerto Rican. This point goes over big.

I can assure you that we have worked like blazes over the past few days, but one of the joys has been driving around in the care of Mayor Bloomberg’s police detail.