In London and perhaps the rest of the UK, it's perfectly acceptable to spend a cosy night at home on new years eve. It's cold, probably raining and if drunken crowds don't discourage you, the so-so fireworks after enduring those things should. My first new years eve in London was a fizzer.
This year my girlfriend Kim had a party. I left work at 1pm (after watching the Sydney fireworks online) and went straight to hers. This girl among many things can cook and she already started before I arrived.
She served a feast of BBQ pork ribs, Vietnamese spring rolls, summer rolls, lettuce wraps and canapes. All made from scratch. If that wasn't enough to impress, she did a makeover on me too. She's a wonder woman!
Poor Grant was ill after being in the snows for a week. It was hard to leave the delicious food and company but I left to spend midnight with him.
We tried to see the fireworks from Primrose Hill since it was close to home. We realised when we got there that hundreds of people had the same idea.
Sadly it was a misguided one because as you can see, or rather not-the Thames fireworks are too low.
This is midnight and everyone was waiting with anticipation to only see faint flashes of colour. The only fireworks were the ones lit locally.
In the early hours of the morning, we heard a guy emptying his stomach into our garden. So lesson learned, never step outside for new years eve.
Happy new year everyone!
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Care to pass a balloon? :)