We arrived back in New York last Sunday and have hit the ground running – well, sliding actually in a frantic help-our-winter-clothes-are-all-in-transit kind of way.
During our first day of apartment hunting in Brooklyn, a snow storm suddenly arrived. For the uninitiated, it was magical, gob-smacking and ever so pretty and exciting. The sound of Nat King Cole tinkled through my head as we rushed for the nearest shelter (which, incongruously, was a Mexican restaurant – we watched the lumps of frozen stuff fall from the sky while supping cold beers with bits of lime and eating nachos and spicy tomato salsa).
Soon, however, the magic wore off. The snow incredulously piled up in no time. The sidewalk was covered with icy slush, people dressed in Arctic ski wear were already shovelling the snow from outside their houses. New York had switched to winter mode with efficiency and zero panic (in England the schools would have closed, the trains cancelled and canned soup would have sold out around the country).
Spot the tourists: myself and the H1B in Converse sneakers and thin leather jackets, slip-sliding around the streets with freezing wet feet, shivering into our synthetic scarves. Still, once we reached the welcoming fuggy warmth of the subway, I like to think we looked more like this:
The next day I received an email from a colleague and friend who had just return to Sydney after living in New York for eight years. It said:
“Snow boots. Order them now. Your life will be completely different and these babies will be your best friend until May next year. If you think you can get by with regular leather boots – you’re deluded and when the snow is two feet deep and you’re slipping on ice I’ll be saying – I told you so.”
So order them I did. They are on the way and my feet are happy.
By the way, Target also do very well priced snow boots but they sell out quickly.