Well, there’s only one place to go on New Year’s Eve and that’s the big city, so we end up at Libby and Dougie’s via Hornsby where P_ is looking after Ben and James (not that Ben needs looking after) and then on train to Cathy’s (remember you have to be mad to drive in Sydney and we don’t feel like it today which will be one of the busiest days of the year).
Cathy’s mad though and drives us into the city where we all settle into a long night of drinking cocktails, beer and champagne and smoking cones, playing party games and being too drunk to be coherent.
At nine or so I manage to convince everyone who can to come up the road to see the fireworks that go off in the harbour and on the bridge. They last for about half an hour and though our view is obscured slightly by a big gum tree they look magnificent in the dry night sky. The bridge we can see clearly though and that goes off with magnificent cascades and fountains of sparks imitating the previous storms.
We stumble back drunk and happy, high on life, chatting furiously and continue with party games and more merriment ’til time comes to wish each other a happy new year and we’re into 1995.
And the first thing I can remember of this new year is a glorious hangover.