So Irene has come and gone. By the time she reached New York City, CNN were telling us that she’d been downgraded to a tropical storm. All the same the rain was banging at the window and the horns on the fire trucks could be heard all night. Screaming in the street at 2am put me on edge and it made for a fitful nights sleep.
For 24 hours we were confined to the hotel without knowing for how long, whether the power would stay on, whether the water would stay on. We had food, bottled water, some beers and tap water in ice buckets (just in case we were talking days). We were issued with glowsticks and hand fans. If the power didn’t go off we could always have a rave was the thought.
The hotel staff at the Hudson were and continue to be great. Dressed in black I Love NY t-shirts they went about delivering service as if there was just a smattering of rain outside. Most guests took it in their stride while others were visibly distressed. One in tears as her flight had been cancelled was comforted by a receptionist with reassurance. It’s moments like this when I’m glad we didn’t go down the bargain route. The hotel bars for the most part were open, a cinema room and drawing station were set up and messages left on in room answer-phones from the exuberant General Manager. It took on a strange cruise ship vibe as you walk the common areas. I’m yet to find the shuffleboard.
After a few drinks in the bar, a Magic Hat #9 by candlelight, it was back to the room for a Barney Greengrass dinner of bialy, pickled herring, potato salad and pickles. A little bit of channel hopping before that fitful nights sleep. Strip away the news coverage and twitter and I think sleep would have been easier.
We’ve not ventured out yet but the streets seem to be returning to normal.
