Thunder & lightning, very very frightening

I’ve arrived safely in New York, a day later than planned, (of which more later). As the train pulled into Penn Station, the station announcer was talking about severe weather conditions. What severe weather conditions? I thought to myself as I (illegally) pushed my bike onto the up escalator and out onto Eighth Avenue, sweating glamorously in the 85F heat & 90% humidity.

As I chained up my bike outside Soho House ten minutes later I was punished for my insouciance when the heavens opened, dumping enough water on me in the 30 secs it takes to chain up my bike that my carefully curled hair went straight, my shirt was saturated (hello boys) and my make up washed off.

I’m now sitting rather squelchily in a deep velvet armchair, legs swung across the arm, with a cocktail by my side, watching the torrential rain whip horizontally down Ninth Avenue, and bounce off the cobblestones.

The drawing room here at SH is on the sixth floor of an old warehouse building which affords an excellent view of umbrellas being blown inside out, women’s skirts flying over their heads and the cracks of lightning across the sky.

So much for hanging out on the roof deck here enjoying a fabulous New York summer.