“Volcanoed In”, whilst in NYC



Twitter was chock full of volcano.
I really should have taken more pictures for this post.

I think it was Thursday when I had the following exchange at work…

Colleague: Is your flight canceled?
Franc: Why would it be?
Colleague: Did you read the flight alert mail?
Franc: Oh, no worries, I’m booked on Virgin. (assuming more strike action by British Airways)
Colleague: …the one about the volcano?

Needless to say, I never expected to have a flight to the UK canceled because of a gigantic cloud of volcanic ash. I definitely can’t pronounce Eyjafjallajökul, and there I was, “Volcanoed In”.

Once my flight was officially cancelled on Friday night, there was lots of hold music. Lots. Then came hotel swapping, a whole lot of booking drama, and even more hold music.

Roughing it at the Plaza Athénée

Some people were very sympathetic. Was I okay? Did I need clothes or a place to sleep? I was offered my own room, several couches, an aerobed, and a bedroom full of cats.

There were kind offers of frequent feeding; a BBQ, a chicken, and my friend Elisabeth gave me a bag of homemade cheese sticks (awesome!). A colleague even offered to do my laundry. I felt extra loved.

Reminding myself that life was tough, I tried to be strong. I reminded then that while I was suffering soooo much at the Millennium Hilton (my home for the last 5 days of the trip), it was still at least a smidge better than an airport cot.

Others were apathetic. They didn’t relish saying that I had been volcanoed, and well,  they aren’t very fun people anyway. 

My view from the Hilton
The site has come a long
way since I worked on the other side

High on the collective to-do list at work was trying to find an alternative way home once our flights were canceled. My colleagues treated this like a life or death mission..something about having wives alone with hordes of small children seemed to really put the fear in them. I’d get phone calls and emails at all hours, notifying me of the latest Plan, encouraging me to call travel and try to get wait listed for the latest chosen vehicle.

They looked at taking the Queen Mary 2  and at flying to Madrid and taking a car service or train back to London. My employer announced  plans to charter a jet to an undisclosed location from which transport to London would be provided via a British Naval ship and coach bus.

I can think of few greater contrasts in transportation than “private jet” and “coach bus“. 
I concluded the ash would have to go eventually and opted to stay put. After all, I had a pregnancy sweater and a lot of hotel shampoo.

Pregnancy sweaters come from precious people.


You see, I began to run out of clothes on d+1 (d= departure) so I began to collect items from others, specifically items they definitely didn’t mind not receiving back in the near future. I wore them all at the same time, feeling like a spoiled refugee. That t-shirt with a spot, the pregnancy sweater, and the airline socks made for a fine complement to my new jeans on d+2. 


 By the time I left for the airport on d+6, I was definitely ready to go. Two weeks of not sleeping well and working loads has caught up. Even so, the extra week was a blessing in disguise.

Despite being crammed in the office more often than not…

Bagels, just as planned

-I got to catch up with a number of workmates  
-I even managed to see a few old friends, a highlight!
-I learned that Landmarc will not only deliver fantastic food but also beer!
-I had lunch at Google on their roof deck in the sun, and during my visit, saw a live kangaroo.
-I met a dear friend’s new wife and saw him the happiest I’ve ever seen him 
-I bought many pairs of socks 
-I failed to go to the gym, except for one day
-I never had barbeque. I did have a lot of sushi, though!
-I was reminded how convenient 24 hour restaurants are. Thank you, Bubby’s.

So many weird ads on the subway. 888-LAPBAND ?!?!

-I was invited to Brooklyn for chicken, and it was the most fun chicken I have ever had. 
-I learned that restaurants can give you an itemized guest check (key for submitting expenses) after the fact thanks to customer service that rivaled the food at Wolfgang’s in Tribeca.

     …and I learned that there’s no place like home, and that I’m truly lucky to have two.

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    Things I love in NYC, II


    It’s Breakfast  O’Clock in the Lounge!

    When I last wrote on this topic, I had just returned from a trip back to New York, at which time, I expected I’d be returning a few months later. I highlighted a handful of things I really enjoyed and was fortunate enough to do during my last trip.

    Time really flies. It took me nearly a year to make it back, and this time, it’s for a work trip, leaving very little time for me to really go out and just enjoy many of my old stomping grounds, aside from that video conference room on the 4th floor.

    So, as I prepare for takeoff, here are some things I’m determined to do during my trip, even if I have to rappel out of my office.

    1. See Friends: An obvious one, I know. This might be an awful test of who actually reads my drivel. I’ve not really told anyone I’m showing up. outside of of handful of people I’ve chatted with in the last week *Surprise*

      On to the more general stuff…

    2. Eat Barbeque: London has a decent American- style barbeque joint or two, but it simply can’t compete with New York. The tough choice really comes when choosing: Daisy Mae’s or Hill Country. I’m determined to visit at least one, and not to worry, I’ve packed a tarp to wear.
    3. See my Angela: My Angela is a genius. She makes the demon that is my hair turn docile. She’s also well read, an accomplished amateur photographer, and she’s loads of fun to talk to.She works a new salon now, called Whistle. I’ve managed to secure an appointment with her for Friday. I am giddy.
    4. Bagels: I didn’t really appreciate just how glorious an H and H bagel with cream cheese, lox, and capers is until it wasn’t at my disposal.
    5. Check out Dr. Zizmor Ads on the Train: If you’ve been on the subway more than five times, you know what this means.
    6. J Crew: That’s right, there’s no J. Crew in London. I will cram my suitcase with its preppy goodness. A recent Guardian article promised that some J. Crew would be somewhat available via Net-a-Porter, but, “some” isn’t good enough, and I’d rather not pay UK prices. 
    7. Eat Brunch: Brunch is not an English thing. There will be eggs and a bloody mary, possibly at Great Jones Cafe.
    …and while there’s plenty more, it’s time to board, so a part III is soon to folllow.