Come on Irene: and other freakish weather

To say that a lot has happened in the last couple of weeks is putting it lightly. Since I last posted, I have left Ireland, my family, my job, my friends and journeyed to beautiful, sunny Long Island, New York. Why did I make the leap? Well that’s another blog post entirely. 

I’ve been in New York (“my home away from home” really) for just over two weeks and it has been a whirlwind. Literally.

Earthquakes and hurricanes are two things that are generally quite low on New Yorkers lists of things to worry about; and yet both have happened since I arrived. Let’s just hope that’s a big coincidence!

The earthquake was the first bizarre occurrence. I was at home, working on a project, minding my own business when I heard a rattling sound. I went over to inspect the wine rack, which was trembling slightly and I could not, for the life of me figure out why. Next I hear my sister upstairs screaming “is that a tremor?” No. It couldn’t be. This isn’t California, we just don’t have extreme weather here in New York. Unless you count the snow, but we can handle that! Now that I thought about it, I did feel kind of dizzy. Once the sensation had passed I checked twitter and sure enough, everyone was chatting about an earthquake in Virginia that could be felt all the way up to Toronto. Now, if that’s not freak weather, I don’t know what is!

I spoke to several New Yorkers about the quake. Some thought it was extremely cool, and others (perhaps the more dramatic among them) seemed genuinely worried. One of my friends thought it was just coming up to lunchtime and that her stomach was rumbling! Here’s an idea of what people thought:

And just when I thought that we were done with freakish weather on the east coast, along comes Hurricane Irene. The warnings began early, but because hurricanes happen every summer and usually taper off before they get anywhere near the tri-state area, I largely ignored them. It wasn’t until Mayor Bloomberg outlined a possible evacuation plan (the first mandatory strategy of its kind) that I sat up and took notice. Even more extreme was the complete shut-down of New York’s mass transit system. This sort of plan was completely unprecedented and frankly not something I could even contemplate.

Here’s a clip of me speaking to Jonathan Healy on Newstalk’s Lunchtime Programme…

The weekend of the storm was terrifying to be honest. We spent most of Saturday in this pre-storm haze of news reports and weather maps. Outdoor furniture was tied down, local businesses were boarded up and sandbagged and we were instructed to have a “go-bag” of essentials ready should be have to leave the house in a hurry. Our biggest worry in Nassau County was the perils of falling trees. Last March, during a particularly violent storm, a tree fell on top of the house next door to us – crashing through a teenager’s bedroom. I wasn’t taking any chances and slept on the couch.

As we went to bed, begrudgingly, we could hear things flying around outside and the wind and rain seriously picking up. Around 2:30am, our power blew – which really freaked everyone out. We all fell asleep and when we woke up the next morning, we creeped outside to see what the damage had been.

Thankfully, as we slept the hurricane was downgraded to a Tropical Storm and although it caused havoc for electricity users, the structural damage to the houses in my neighborhood was pretty tame. We spent most of the day cleaning up minor branches and leaves from around the house and garden.

Although we definitely got off lightly after Irene, we then faced FOUR DAYS of no electricity and considering that an office (with several employees) is based here – that was a problem. We carried flashlights around to go to the bathroom. Everything in the fridge had to be disposed of and most noticeably, we had no hot showers or air conditioning. We did manage to acquire a small generator to run the phones in the office – but when the electricity did come back on, I’ve never seen a happier group of people!

So, a tumultuous first two weeks here in NY. Hopefully it continues to be this exciting!

And to your left we have…

Before I worked in media I had a number of different jobs. The best by far was managing tour groups with a travel company in New York. The groups were made up of mainly over-65′s with a love of casinos, shows and the racetrack. Simply put, these auld ones and auld lads were brilliant fun.

They are certainly an interesting bunch, not subdued and definitely not passed their prime. They love a dance (good for keeping the hips going you know?) and have no problem telling you to feck right off.

Being a tour manager is great for a number of reasons. For starters, you’re not in an office looking at a computer screen all day and if you love travel and sightseeing, you can really learn a lot while on the job. But also, it is absolutely hilarious. I have so many stories from my days with the company (too many to recount here!) and every time I left to return home to Ireland, I went armed with a new cast of crazy elderly New York characters!

One of my favourite tours to take (and some say my speciality) was into Manhattan for a trip on the Water Taxi. The day involved me getting a train into Manhattan and meeting one, two or sometimes three buses of people at the South Street Seaport. I had to greet them, make sure they knew where they were going and then give them a time to meet the boat for the tour. Once they were all on board the boat, I got to sit up on the top deck in the sunshine and look at the most beautiful city in the world from out on the Hudson River. After the tour we all got back on our buses and went to Little Italy where we were served a gorgeous Italian lunch (another perk of the job) and after that I bid them farewell and got back on my train home. Blissful or what?

Not so blissful when you run into some roadblocks.

One day, a group of particularly rambunctious grannies decided not to come back to the boat, but to go shopping in the mall instead. I knew I was three people short, but the boat had to sail on time and subsequently without them. You know the feeling when you’re minding a child and they get lost? It was like that, except with someone’s Nana. Well actually three of them.

When the boat came back, the three ladies in question were laden with shopping bags and waving to us from the dock! They had a great afternoon shopping and didn’t even want to take the boat tour – yet still demanded a trip on the house in the future. Cheeky cheeky grannies!

I’ve had my fair share of injuries as well. One lady was on her way to the restaurant and tripped on a crack in the sidewalk, which resulted in her breaking a front tooth. That was the first and only time I’ve ever had to call 911 for someone. Another time, in the same restaurant, a lady fell in the bathroom and bashed her head on the toilet bowl. No call to the emergency services, but she was pretty shaken up.

One summer I was managing a group of rich kids from Upstate New York. They were enrolled in a “Travel Summer Camp” (a what now?!) and went on a different trip each day. I got to take them to the United Nations (which I was so unbelievably excited about – snort snort politics nerd!) and it was pretty disastrous. First, our tour guide was Asian and spoke with an accent, which they ridiculed him about for the entire tour. Then, anytime he asked them a question, they just stared at each other and laughed. Which meant I had to answer it. Eventually the guide launched into a big speech about how there are thousands of children all over the world who are not privileged enough to be receiving an education and that they should be grateful for the chance to see the UN. The rich kids sneered and giggled. Some made phone calls on their cell phones. Others put head phones in. Embarrassment city.

Another day, we went on a tour of Rockefeller Centre and NBC Studios (both of which excited me, obviously!) but most the tours were timed for elderly people, who are slow to do everything. Not energetic pre-teens who do everything at the speed of light. So we were left with a giant chunk of time in the middle of the most humid day imaginable.

What would I do? Where could I take forty twelve-year olds at such short notice?

I headed for the biggest and coldest place I could think of nearby: St. Patrick’s Cathedral.

There were several issues with this. Firstly, I knew very little about the Cathedral, other than it was the venue for several high-profile NY weddings.Secondly, unbeknownst to me, most of the group were Jewish.

In the end, the kids were so confused by my choice of venue that they sat quietly in the pews staring up at the place. Some even lit candles. Mission accomplished, I say.