New York

: The Grand Account :

Manhattan does not court its visitors; it assumes them. The island has been the seat of American ambition since the Dutch traded at its southern tip, and its great avenues still carry that early confidence, Fifth with its stone mansions, Park with its hushed lobbies, Madison with its tailors and galleries. For the world's most consequential families, New York is less a destination than a recurring appointment: board meetings, auction weeks at Christie's, November evenings at the Metropolitan Opera. The city's genius is its indifference; amid eight million stories, the most prominent guest moves unnoticed. That anonymity, so rare elsewhere, is precisely what draws those for whom attention is an occupational hazard.

From London, the crossing is arranged to your taste: a private jet from Farnborough into Teterboro, or first class from Heathrow with an FFGR chauffeur delivering you kerbside at the terminal door. The essential detail lies on the far shore. As you land, the FFGR network takes over, a local chauffeur, trained to the same standards as your driver in London and briefed in advance on your preferences, from cabin temperature to preferred newspaper, waits on the tarmac or at arrivals. For Manhattan, the Cadillac Escalade is the natural choice: commanding, generously proportioned for the avenues, suitably American. One brand, one standard, two continents; the journey never changes hands, only time zones.

Take rooms at The Mark on East 77th, a Jacques Grange-designed retreat a block from Central Park, or at The Carlyle, where Bemelmans Bar still keeps its murals and its murmured jazz. Dinner might mean Eric Ripert's seafood at Le Bernardin or the clubbable hush of The Polo Bar; lunch, a corner table at Sant Ambroeus on Madison. Reserve a private early-morning hour at the Frick or the Metropolitan Museum before the doors open, then walk the Park while the city is still rubbing its eyes. End the visit as New Yorkers of a certain era did: martini at Bemelmans, car waiting outside, no farewell required.