A surprisingly happy New Year

After all my Scrooge-like refusal-of-good-cheer on my New Year's Eve post, I am happy to report that I was very pleasantly surprised by how things turned out.

Around mid-afternoon, I had given up on 'the plan'. The weather was so bad that it seemed likely the airport would be closed. One friend, flying back with her family on a local flight the previous evening, had been delayed for several hours, and only made it home just before dawn. The Choirboy, en route back from his ancestral mansion in Dublin, might well have been lost in the skies for who-knows-how-long. So, anyway: many of my friends were out of town for the duration of the holidays; others were only due back that weekend, and might not make it because of the snow and the fog; those few that were in town were either being completely uncommunicative (ignoring my barrage of hopeful, chivvying text messages), or were wimpily suggesting that they'd stay put near home for their 'celebrating'. I collapsed into dismay and despair; I resigned myself to a lacklustre evening of solo drinking.

But then, all of a sudden, 'the plan' was resurrected. The Choirboy had indeed made it back safely (and had finally managed to recharge his phone battery); others in quick succession began to report that they too were game to meet up after all.

Well, the original 'plan' foundered - as plans tend to do (in this town, anyway). We discovered at the last minute that the gig I had persuaded everyone to join me for was cancelled.... because the bar it was happening in had been closed down for the night..... because the local TV station had decided to take over the little square in front of it for a live outside broadcast and was staging some cheesy little pageant, access to which was restricted to a handful of "VIP guests" (and denied to oiks like us; The Choirboy did try to blag his way in; and if he can't manage it, no-one can!). The affected businesses around the square had only been notified of this - as is almost invariably the way of things out here - a day or two beforehand.

This also meant that we were denied access to the only bell in town that rings in the New Year - another central plank of the 'plan' whisked from under our feet!

The initial restaurant 'plan' went west too: well, I had wanted to try out a well-spoken of but only intermittently open new Korean place in the neighbourhood, but I was unable to carry the vote on that one. Eventually - a bizarre committee compromise - we settled on a nearby English 'fish & chips' restaurant instead: filling food, very cosy (roaring log fire)..... and remarkably uncontaminated by other customers!

The weather conditions weren't too bad, either. Although still unpleasantly damp and overcast and misty, the temperature had shot up quite sharply in the second half of the day, and most of the snow and ice on the ground had melted - and so taxis were starting to operate fairly normally once more. Although it got chillier again in the evening, the air was nicely bracing rather than painful.

It was a fine mix of people too: some diehard expats like myself, some 'tourists', old friends and new, Brits and Americans, boys and girls. There was even a nice trans-generational mix, with the parents of a friend from the Brit Embassy joining us, and a young married couple threatening to sprog imminently (baby Henry politely held off making his entry into the world until Jan. 2nd).

And - instead of going to some huge, raucous 'party' where we wouldn't have been able to hear ourselves think - we hung out in our sociable little group in my two favourite quiet little bars: the Yacht Club and Zoo (with just a few interludes of wandering the streets betweentimes; and trying to crash the TV extravaganza in the square; and some brief bicycle-sled escapades on the frozen lakes at midnight!!).

Things came to a natural wind-up somewhere between 1am and 2am, and I would have been quite happy to stagger home to my bed at that point (ah, the joy of having such good bars within a 25-minute walk of my apartment!); but..... well, The Choirboy decided that he wanted to cab over to the main bar district in the centre of town (in pursuit of his elusive, challenging, on/off local girlfriend) and cajoled me into accompanying him as his 'wing man'. I didn't stay long, since it was quite apparent that on this occasion he was in need of no such help. However, once in the 'zone of many bars' I couldn't resist popping my head around the door of a few more, just to see who else that I knew might be out and about. So..... I didn't finally hit the sack until 4.30 or so. In fact, I crashed out on a sofa as soon as I got through my front door, and didn't actually get to bed properly until a few hours later. I still haven't fully recovered.

I think that definitely counts as one of my better New Years.

Next year: staying home with a good book again, obviously.