I remember this time last year, when I was working at the MCG doing promotions. One of my fellow promoters was a guy from Scotland who was giving me a list of things to do in the UK. Very high on his list was going to Edinburgh for New Years, and even though I can't remember his name, I'm still thankful for the tip. I caught DSL (Deep Scottish Love) back in April when I took a tour of the Highlands, so I was more than happy to return to Edinburgh and get my fix of the sexy Scottish accent.
I departed London with my friends Cat and Tess early on the morning of the 30th of December, which also happened to be Tess' 25th birthday. Despite having to spend 10 hours on a coach, she got a pretty unique birthday celebration once we reached the great north. That night we headed to a traditional Scottish dance called a Ceilidh, where we linked arms and swang around until our hearts were content. It was pure unadulterated fun and I couldn't wipe the smile off my face. The event was held in a beautiful room, draped in chandeliers with a polished wooden floor as slippery as ice. We quickly discovered that partner dancing with each other was much easier than pretending to be lead by the guys who all seemed to have two left feet. The only exception to this rule was a handful of Scottish men in kilts who really knew how to fling a girl around. Turns out real men wear skirts.
Once the traditional music was out of the way, the dfloor was cleared for some cheesy 80s and 90s tunes. It was at this point that the slipperiness of the floor became both a blessing and a curse. One reveller took advantage of the slip and slide by taking every girl in the room for an 'ice-skate'as a way of putting on the moves. I however, used it to slide across the room on my knees to the lyrics of Like A Prayer. I somehow found myself in a disagreement with a young man who claimed that the Madona anthem was "his song". Insisting that it was really my song, I flung myself across the floor and onto my knees to the line I'm down on my knees, only to be stopped by the traction of my tights. In my mind I thought I would gracefully glide like something out of a musical. In reality I was left with an impressive graze and very little dignity.
We dragged our tired legs home around 2am and were up early the next day to start all over again. Feeling a little rusty we went straight to a local pub to bring in the Kiwi and Australian New Years. Due to the time difference this meant embracing the hair of the dog and having our first pint before 11am. With a DJ, party poppers and fireworks on the TV, you'd never have known it was broad daylight outside which made the countdown to 2014 feel as though we were really at home. This also meant it was easy to get just as drunk as we would have if it were 12am rather than pm. Once the clock had struck 12 in New Zealand a bagpipe player was brought in to commemorate the new year. We then continued to drink and dance until the Aussie count down, which was huge due to the large amount of antipodean backpackers in the bar. It was one of the best New Years parties I've been to and we'd barely got started...
Being the responsible girls that we are, we decided to leave the pub (in a sufficiently inebriated state) and head to another pub for lunch. Our mantra at lunch was to "act sober", at least until we could reach the comfort of our beds to take a nap. As Fatboy Slim say, 'eat, sleep, rave, repeat'. That's exactly what we did.
We were up again that evening, ready to go with our vodka and Irn Bru cocktails donned in coats, hats and gloves to the Hogmanay street party; one of the biggest New Years festivals in the world. I'd heard stories of how weather had forced the festival to be cancelled in previous years, but we were blessed with a beautiful clear night. Over 80,000 party goers joined us at the street party to watch three lots of fire works and a number of stages with live music and DJs. We had lots of fun attempting to pick strangers' nationalities in the sea of people, which eventually resulted in befriending a group of Brits. Tess decided to make friends in a more creative way, ghosting oblivious strangers, dancing, thrusting and even pretending to lick their faces behind their backs.
We spent our time singing, dancing and drinking the night away with our new friends. When midnight rolled around I was getting nervous. I hadn't had a midnight New Years kiss who wasn't my ex-boyfriend since I was 16 years old so I'd put a bit of pressure on myself. Cat managed to find a friendly local to bring the new year in with and when Tess realised this may not be an option for her, she made me promise to be her kiss on the stroke of 12. Low and behold we hadn't found boys worthy of our saliva so Tess ended up giving me a peck under the fireworks.
From there, things got a little strange. The street party ended and we all went in pursuit of a bar. On the way Cat was still locking lips with her Scott, Tess was playing dead in the street to avoid being hit on by a creepy German and I had a guy chat me up who insisted I imagine what it would be like if I was Gollum (I think he got Australia and New Zealand confused...). No matter how many times we lost each other in the chaos we always managed to find each other again. However, the night had conclusively come to and end when Tess decided to turn her life into a musical and frolic the streets, only communicating through song. Her favourite was, 'you take the high road and I'll take the low road and I'll be in Scotland before you'. Thank God for iPhones and their video feature is all I can say.
At 5am we managed to make it into bed, although there wasn't much point. Tess and I were up again at 7 to watch a crazy tradition called Loony Dook. This entails getting dressed up and going for a dip in the freezing cold Scottish water just outside of Edinburgh on New Years Day. While Tess and I didn't partake, the fresh air did wonders for our hangovers and it was hilarious to see the procession of costumes lead by a percussion band parading down to the water.
After Loony Dook we were desperate to go straight back to bed however, were reluctant as that morning we'd seen a mouse in our room at St Christopher's! I'd seen it the night before however, in the dark I thought it had perhaps been a figment of my drunk imagination. But no, the little critter had ran past Tess while she was getting ready for Loony Dook resulting in a pretty impressive yelp. Tiredness won out over fear though, and we spent the day dozing and catching up on the previous night's antics over a pub dinner.
For our last night in Edinburgh we attended a farewell party at the hostel. Free shots and suspiciously fleurescent energy drinks got us through the night, but by midnight we had had enough cheesy music and were in desperate need of a rest. Four parties in three days will do that to you!
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