Times, Squared.

The times, they are a-changin'.

New York City, New York – The colours shimmer, even with eyes shuttered. They blink in spasms, blending with guttural hurls from below.

Falling asleep, the light show is reminiscent of shelling over Normandy.

At all hours, angry New Yorkers carry out conversations over car-horn blasts, but it’s the jackhammers that finally split my sleep with finality. It’s good to have an urban rooster. We have been staying at the Night Hotel Times Square – close enough to tan by the light of giant television screens, but far enough to still be able to get in the front door.

I feel so alive, despite not normally liking cities.

Flat light.

Filled by a fancy breakfast on the patio at Sarabeth’s overlooking Central Park, we dive back into the crowd, which flows like a school of fish: always moving and stuck together until one gets confused. A young lady in black nylons, micro shorts and a derby hat flashes a smile and hands us a paper fan emblazoned with graphics announcing the musical, Chicago. It will be useful in the 32-degree heat.

A roar rises from the other end of the square. Like a bowl of colourful, plump jujubes, it seems sports fans don very different costumes. It's Saturday morning and a set for ESPN’s College GameDay has attracted raucous football fans who stab signs into the air and chant on demand for the cameras.

A wave of cheers, and another commercial break.

We opted to line up for discount Broadway tickets as a kaleidoscope of light cascaded over the streets. While we had no plan for what to see, the fan was prescient. Half-price tickets: sixth row at the Ambassador Theater.

Just another benefit of attending one of the longest-running shows in Broadway history.