There was something rather annoying about Storm Dave apart from the fact that it wreaked havoc across the north-east and Highlands.

Two things struck me immediately.

One comical, the other deadly serious, because so many people lost power in freezing conditions.

And the upshot of it all was that it also made me think of another type of storm which comes to pass with depressing regularity.

Man-made commercial chaos also leaves long-term damage in its wake, which is even harder to mend – and lasts for years.

With cavernous empty buildings abandoned and neglected as major businesses or institutions move out, Aberdeen has its fair share.

On a lighter note, amid the misery of Storm Dave, I have to confess that I was a bit miffed about its name.

Storm Dave made it sound a little on the common side, don’t you think? Why not something with a little more solemnity and gravitas – like Storm David?

Obviously, I have more than a passing interest as a reluctant member of the Dave fraternity.

There was an element of the absurd about officially calling a serious storm Dave – as though the plumber had turned up.

It was put forward by a woman “in honour” of her husband’s snoring, but don’t worry – Stevie, Eddie and Wubbo are also on the Met Office storm list.

I prefer being called David, but my mom started it all by calling me Dave – and I’ve cringed ever since.

It’s the time of year when tourists start visiting our city

She even called me Davy Crockett (after the American “king of the wild frontier” hero); I’m glad that didn’t stick.

Before you say it, I know people whose Easter Weekend was ruined by Storm Dave won’t worry what it’s called.

Anymore than I did when I ran into another storm with an over-familiar shortened name – Storm Bert – 18 months ago.

We made our acquaintance with Bert while stranded in whiteout blizzard conditions on the suspension bridge over the Tay at Perth; it felt like a Hollywood survival movie.

Talking of California, there have been a lot of other notable visitors to the north-east in the last week apart from Storm Dave – travellers from America, in fact.

Some actually noted the ravages of the stormy economic winds of change.

Passengers were spilling from the gangways at Aberdeen cruise harbour; a very welcome sight as this cruise season promises to be the best.

I read in the P&J how much they enjoyed their brief shore excursions, particularly the history and distinctive granite architecture.

I had some first-hand experience of this in Aberdeen as I stood admiring one of the city’s gleaming open-top tourist buses in Littlejohn Street, and pondered getting on.

But before I could decide, I encountered two old gentlemen from Toronto.

The Canadians looked like twins with matching country attire and each carrying a walking stick.

I knew they were tourists because they were stuck in the kerbside pointing in all directions without moving anywhere.

So I asked if they needed help, and we fell into an enjoyable conversation, with me offering a few pointers about places of interest.

They seemed so impressed with my local knowledge that they even suggested I should become a tourist guide. How about that?

However, I was getting to the point where I felt I was overstaying my welcome just like Storm Dave.

Abandoned buildings in Aberdeen holding city back

I didn’t want them to become nervous that I might be some kind of confidence trickster about to pounce.

You know the sort of thing: one minute suggesting they should look at the 19th century engineering masterpiece that is Union Street.

And in the next breath, claiming I’d found gold nuggets buried under the big roundabout at Mintlaw, but they must give me their bank details and passwords in five minutes.

The vast majority of feedback in the P&J from cruise passengers was very complimentary, but one was aghast at the state of the former Woolmanhill hospital which now lies empty and forlorn as grand redevelopment plans faded.

A shadow of its former self as a beautiful historical neo-classical masterpiece.

The tourist’s point chimed with a P&J election survey about the city’s “decline” – with almost 90 per cent concerned over neglected buildings.

The former M&S building in St Nicholas Street has also been cast adrift; it’s not an architectural aristocrat by any means, but its continuing abandonment sends the wrong economic signal.

That’s why suggestions to breathe a new lease of life into significant empty buildings must be supported.

With the old M&S building, to transform it into a gigantic street-art warehouse.

Similar to the Straat museum in Amsterdam, converted from a former industrial shipyard – once seized by invading Nazis in wartime, now displaying a striking mural of Anne Frank outside.

These struggles with major old buildings show how economic whirlwinds outlast the likes of Storm Dave.

David Knight is the long-serving former deputy editor of The Press and Journal.

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