When the phone rang I knew exactly who it was going to be and exactly what she was going to say. "Have you seen this?" she asked, without waiting for my answer. "'Certain information gives the government reason to believe that there may be additional terrorist attacks within the US over the next several days.'"

One of the things about working at a newspaper is that you tend to hear the news at least five minutes before your paranoid mother. And at the precise moment she rang, I was reading the exact same statement from the FBI. I was due to leave the next day for a week's holiday in New York - booked and paid for a few days before the terror attacks - and I wasn't much looking forward to it. I'd phoned Jon, my travelling companion, and we'd talked about abandoning the trip. But after one of the best holidays of my life, I am very glad indeed that we went ahead with it.

I'd only been to New York once before - and that was at the cash-strapped end of a gap year. The Big Apple is not the place to go on a small budget, and I knew I needed another bite.

Mayor Giuliani had appealed for people to go New York and spend money, so I travelled with a half-empty suitcase, anticipating doing plenty of that. It was even emptier by the time I arrived - customs had relieved me of my nail clippers and razor blades (had they been taking lessons from my mum?). But under the circumstances, no one grumbled about the extra half hour it took to get through security.

I didn't really know what to expect from New Yorkers a month after the attacks, but I certainly didn't expect the taxi driver who picked us up from JFK to burst into tears on the way into Manhattan. He showed us the exact place on the apex of a flyover where he had been forced to stop as the traffic on the Van Wyck Expressway ground to a halt during rush hour on September 11. It afforded him a panoramic view of a Manhattan skyline which lost its most famous landmark before his disbelieving eyes.

He recovered when he found himself blocked by a car which was hogging the fast lane ahead. There was an Asian man at the wheel. The volley of invective which spewed out of our Argentine taxi driver's mouth is unprintable, but let's just say he accused the hapless driver not only of doing very unpleasant things to his mother, but also of having a hand in the atrocities. My friend Jon, himself of Indian extraction, shrank back in his seat.

We'd arranged to stay with Jon's sister in SoHo, one of Manhattan's more expensive districts, and a superb base from which to see the city. She told us it had been a pretty horrific month but that in a way, the city was far nicer now: the people, at least, were friendlier.

So what's it like being on holiday in a place which is reeling from disaster? A bit weird, to tell the truth.

We wandered down to Ground Zero out of curiosity - along, it seemed, with every other tourist in the city. The site - such as it is, you can't see much - has turned into a macabre tourist trap and there are vulture-like hawkers there selling everything from US flags and ' love NY' T-shirts to pictures of the towers.

There were also buskers there playing melancholy on loop, interspersed with America the Beautiful, God Bless America and Amazing Grace. There was even a motionless - and tactless - Statue of Liberty street performer doing good business in front of the site when we were there, though she risked the wrath of some of the more indignant passers-by.

One woman in front of me was overcome reading the tribute messages from local school children posted up on a Chase Manhattan bank. She was immediately enveloped by a much larger lady offering her services as a counsellor.

The disaster hangs heavy in the air - literally. The now heroic NYPD officers manning the road blocks do so wearing gas masks so as not to breath in the lingering acrid smell and demolition dust

There was a heavy police presence at the entrance to the Empire State Building - of course. The gentleman in front of me was being asked to remove the penknife from his key ring. The last time I went up, I had to queue for ages. This time we had the observation deck practically to ourselves. It was only from this vantage point that we could really gauge the size of the gaping hole in the heart of the city.

From the proliferation of Bin Laden dartboards and 'Wanted: dead or alive' posters with the word alive crossed out, to the ubiquitous stalls selling NYPD and FDNY paraphernalia, you cannot get away from references to September 11. Unless, of course, you actively seek refuge.

The Guggenheim museum has a superb new exhibition on until January called Brazil: Body and Soul, while MoMA has given itself up almost entirely to showing the (frankly bizarre) works of Swiss sculptor, painter, and draftsman Alberto Giacometti.

We popped into the Oyster Bar at Grand Central Station for a truly explosive cocktail at a truly explosive price, then took the opportunity to look in on the UK with NY festival, which celebrates British culture, in the Vanderbilt Hall.

We went to the TKTS office in Times Square to pick up some cut-price Broadway Show tickets. De La Guarda and the Blue Man Group are highly recommended for those who fancy something a bit different.

And, of course, we shopped. For five days.

But one of the highlights of the week was absolutely free: kicking a ball among the falling leaves in Central Park in what has to be the best time of the year to visit.

It is impossible to forget about September 11 while visiting New York: you are confronted with reminders round every corner. But the city is still beautiful, the attractions are cheap and the people are pleased to see you. As Giuliani pointed out, Manhattan is in serious need of the tourist dollar right now: it felt like we were making a contribution - however small - to returning a sense of normality to the city, in terms of atmosphere as much as economy. And besides, spending a week in New York - it's hardly a chore, is it? Start spreading the news.