Cork Under Water November 2010

Driving into work on Friday, South Terrace was like a lake with dustbins floating away. My boys wanted me to fly through it but I crawled like everyone else.
The Lough was swollen with water lapping out of the northern lip. At least it was calm; the previous day the wind was whipping up waves and sprays of water Hawaii style; the ducks had to take refuge on the grass.
College Road had come to a standstill and all the side roads feeding on it were grid locked. A pedestrian advised me to turn back. I managed a three point turn in a space no wider than my elbow and tried higher ground. I parked the car on a surprisingly deserted Glasheen Road and saw a garda come towards me on his mobile phone. I told him I had no disks but that I would be back in a minute. He said, “With the day that’s in it, you’re the least of my problems.” I scampered off.
I crossed College Road which was now ground to a halt with some very fed up looking drivers: no one was going anywhere. Campus was as quiet as a bank holiday. I saw a pheasant sauntering along by the library.
I made it into work. Students that made it in were hailed as heroes and greeted like old friends although one boy from Limerick was upset as there were no public buses operating in or out of Cork and he was ‘stranded’ for the weekend.
My boss told me to go down and look at the Glucksman Art Galleru. The river had burst its banks and covered the walkway and the entire field around it. The Glucksman café in the basement was completely submerged and water was gushing over the lower steps Niagara Falls style. People were milling around in wonder and taking photographs with their phones.
Down by the college gates, the entire Western Road was a river three feet deep flowing UP towards Washington Street. It was a sight you had to witness just to believe that it was possible. There were students wading across thigh deep and the water gushing into their wellies. You wondered what was so urgent: there was water in every direction.
By lunch time, the water level dropped to massive puddle level and pedestrians could walk around the edges. Fire brigades and ambulances charged westwards down the Western Road sending waves of water over our feet and two helicopters circled overhead. Households and business were pumping water out of their front doors and taking delivery of sandbags. It was like Darfur.
Somebody with a very good camera took photos at first light that morning from the top of Jury's Hotel and emailed them to friends and family. Their shock value was such that by 10.00 am those photos flew around the office, then Cork and by lunchtime they were coming back to us from England, Singapore, the US and Dublin.