HOGMANAY HOOTENANY

I'm not a man or machine

I'm just something in between 

It seemed like a bad idea at the time.  And it was going to be rough from the start - this much was known.  First New Year's Eve in Edinburgh and I had the night off to enjoy the much-hyped Hogmanay (the Scottish aren't very concerned with giving things "pretty" names).  A variety of events all across the city, but the centre-piece was a street party piss-up with about 100,000 people.  Sounds great - except for the 8:30am start at work the next day. Shite.  No need to panic though.  I'm a mature, sensible man approaching 40, who - according to those assholes in the medical community - may or may not have a drinking problem.  I can keep it real, just take it easy and shut it down early.  No 2:30am massage parlour hunts tonight.  Roomies are over in Fife with family - I'll be running on my own.  This could work.

Then Aussie Mike called.  "You're in town from London.  Great.  Yeah, cool let's meet up.  And you want to kick things off by celebrating the Australian New Year?  Sounds fun.  When?  At 1:00 in the afternoon?"  Shit.  This was definitely going to test the plan.  But I figured as long as I paced myself and took a break in the afternoon I should be fine.  HA!  Anyway, we meet up at the Brewdog pub on Cowgate in the Old Town area and plant ourselves in the unbelievably comfy couches at the end the bar -

It's about 12:45 now and I'm still a bit hungover from the night before (yes, I know - not the smartest move) and Mike is very hungover.  He's on this Australian based tour that came up for Hogmanay for two nights.  Staying in a shitty hostel across the street.  He's kind of like me - in his 30's, used to be an architect, but now works front of house in restaurants which is where we met.  We're catching up and before you know it we've sunk four pints each in about 2 hours.  The plan is going out the window now but I don't care anymore because I feel fucking great.  It's hard to resist as well because this place was packed and everyone was right into the swing of things.  So we decide to head out - for a break - but to see a bit more of the city and yes, pound some more beers.  We head over to the New Town side and hit what is maybe my favourite drinking hole - The Balmoral Bar.  Good pints of Shiehallion on tap and a very upscale vibe.

The place is rammed but we do manage to score a table and another extremely comfy couch.  Pretty soon we're joined by a married couple looking to share the table.  No probs.  We get talking and they're up from York.  The guy lived in Liverpool for 20 years and I can't help think that I was singing Gordon Lightfoot songs with this dude in The Philharmonic Pub back in September 2007.  But I don't say anything.  So we go our separate ways and Mikey and I hit one more place before heading back to our respective pads and freshening up.

One exciting thing about the street party is that you can bring in your own booze.  I decided I'd rock the plastic pop bottle filled with the cheapest amber rum I could find and mix with a splash of diet coke.  So I load up back at home and yes, have a few more beers while watching Overeem smash Lesnar at UFC 141.  Head back up to the hostel on Cowgate and we hit an absolute shithole of a place to prime before heading out.  Our crew now consists of a few Australian birds and a Dutch guy and they all seem pretty cool.  I'm getting along quite well with one of the girls and I've targeted her as my New Year's snog.  So we get to the event and it's pretty much mayhem -

It's not long before Mike and I are separated from the pack (and never to see them again).  But we make new friends along the way.  Like this guy (right) who had everyone drinking from his wine bag -

But it wasn't wine.  And in hindsight really wished I hadn't suckled from it.  And then there were these two girls who wanted me to take a photo of them.  I was happy to oblige -

And for some reason I decided that my "thing" for the evening would be to kiss my Diet Pepsi bottle of rum and DC for every pic -

You can see how well that turned out.

So naturally what had been a great day/evening ends up finishing on a total "FAIL" note.  Having lost the girls and any chance of a make-out, I then get separated from Mike as we head to the DJ stage about 11:30.  And to make matters worse, he has the last dregs of my booze.  I wade into the crowd and end up in one shoving match after another.  Most of them with women.  At this point bitterness is taking over and really all that's left is to wait for the big event -

...and stand there filming it like a loser.  Once that was done it was time to hightail it home to get to bed (and avoid getting my ass kicked).  All in all it was a great event and glad I got to experience it.  Finished the night off suitably by lying over the edge of my bed eating spam fritters drenched in mustard off a plastic tray on the floor.

And work the next day....piece of cake.