I genuinely can’t remember when I last celebrated New Year’s Eve outside my home.
I suspect it was that awful time I ventured into central London to see the fireworks at the London Eye….first we were rammed into a hot sticky bar where we couldn’t sit down or go to the loo, and getting a luke warm drink was just not worth the effort….then we fought our way into a tiny vacant spot within view of the fireworks, only to have cheap cider spilled on our hair and get elbowed in the ribs….and then of course it was the five hour journey home (which would usually take twenty minutes) because all the buses were crammed with revellers and parents with giant buggies, and the wretched bendy bus doors would fail every other minute due to some ignorant fool blocking them. Oh joy.
I can’t even remember the fireworks from that night, which tells me that either the rest of the experience far out-weighed them, or they were just not all that good anyway.
I do like to celebrate things. And I love a good fireworks show (I do mean good though). But there just comes a point when the negatives out-weigh the positives, and I think that going out on New Year’s Eve is one of those occasions. And as such, for the last many years I’ve done New Years at home. Here is why:
- The free bar. Even if you only buy in a couple of bottles of plonk, you’re probably going to have something nicer to drink that if you go out. There’s no queue for the bar, no escalated prices and you can have what you like, when you want it. We opened a bottle of fizz last night and had a little gin too….all great quality booze, chilled just right, without the hefty price tag and having to get all Hulk just to be served. If we’d not opened the fizz I expect Adam would have made us yummy cocktails instead, and much better than the ones you can buy in most bars.
- The comfort. There’s an expectation that you dress up and make an effort if you go out for New Year’s Eve. Glittery dresses and high heels have their place (and I love them as much as the next girl), but when you’re going to be on your feet for hours, and potentially out in the cold and wet too (crazy weather last night for sure!), well it’s just no fun any more. At home you can wear your jarmies and slippers, snuggle under a blanky on the sofa, and all within easy reach of whatever you want…including a clean loo with no queue!
- The travel. I hate public transport at the best of times. Whilst I used London Transport for a good twelve years and had a certain fondness for sitting on the top deck of a route master, at New Years it’s over-crowded, smelly and often a bit scary. I hate the waiting around and the silly, ignorant people walking about in their own little bubbles. And don’t get me started on taxis. No, the walk from the sofa to bed is enough for me on New Year’s Eve.
- The high expectations. I’ve always found there to be an immense pressure to have The-Most-Amazing-Time-Ever when going out on New Year’s Eve. For me that’s a kiss of death, as it gets my hopes up (easily done) only to dash them because the odds are stacked against it. It all just seems a bit forced, and that’s not how great nights out happen. Instead I’ve always been left feeling rather deflated, which let’s face it, is no way to start the new year!
- The fact that you can have a great time another night. Whilst for years I thought Adam and I were just stick in the muds about New Year’s Eve, I’ve come to realise that lots of people feel the same way. We’re all in the same boat, and even if I planned a great party at home (thus getting to celebrate in comfort but with the bonus of more people to celebrate with) that would still leave a load of people having to find their way back to their homes late into the cold, wet night. For a few years I actually celebrated the New Year a week or two later, with a bunch of people going out for a lovely meal together for “New New Years”. It was a great idea because everywhere was less crowded, there wasn’t the pressure to have the best night out of the year, and getting home again was just like a normal night. And nobody felt like they’d missed out by not doing it on New Year’s Eve.
So there you have it. My party-pooper’s guide to New Years. I have no regrets…I’m back on the sofa under a snuggly blanket again, after having had a great night’s sleep and an amazing brunch. And just to prove I’m not a complete fuddy duddy, and I do like fireworks, here’s how Sydney brought in the new year with some very Ems-approved fireworks…..