I nearly stayed in, but the thought of the Scottish TV Hogmanay special was just too hideous to contemplate. I headed (rather late) to central London, where the streets were full of drunkards and the pavements covered by puddles that definitely weren't rain. By half past eleven the vast expanse of Trafalgar Square was already full. The police had been busy blocking off most of the surrounding streets, leaving the rest of us to wander around blindly like lab rats in a giant maze. Eventually I found a path through to the Embankment, where Big Ben and the London Eye came into view.
The best vantage point for the night's firework display was Hungerford Bridge, but the police had already sealed that off and stolen the entire view for themselves. The crowds below the bridge were particularly thick, but I was still determined to push on upriver much closer to Westminster. London's legendary Hare Krishna procession came to my aid, clearing a joyful path through the crowds, and I was able to pass through in the slipstream.
Midnight approached, and I was perfectly located opposite the London Eye and within striking distance of Big Ben as the first chimes rang out. Unfortunately the less intelligent amongst the crowd took this as the signal that the New Year had begun, whereas in fact there were still twenty seconds to go until the first proper bong. A great cheer went up, drowning out the rest of the chimes and bongs, leaving us all merely celebrating approximately 2004-ish. Until Big Ben gets a second hand, the exact arrival of the New Year will be easier to spot in the Orkneys on the telly rather than in London from 200 metres away. Right on cue it started to drizzle.
All eyes then turned to the Eye, its pods lit up and starting to pulsate. We had a couple of minutes to wait before the first fireworks shot up from the river, and then the Eye itself erupted with coloured flame. And then some more sparkles, and mild whooshes, and fiery explosions, and a short sky-filling finale. The crowds waited in vain for an encore, not quite believing it was time to go home already. Mayor Ken was right that this was only going to be a brief display, no more than three minutes, but definitely wrong that it would look better on the television (I've rewound the video, and those Scottish TV producers cut the event to shreds).
Those revellers who'd brought their own champagne stood around and toasted 2004 in plastic beakers. Some who were rather more merry, or perhaps just friendly, addressed every passer-by with New Year greetings. The rest of us slowly streamed away, either back to rejoin the West End crowds or off on a long-distance trek to the nearest still-open tube station. It was raining more persistently by the time I finally got home, and my feet ached, but I was glad I'd made the effort to see in 2004 in real life. The year can only get better though.
All eyes then turned to the Eye, its pods lit up and starting to pulsate. We had a couple of minutes to wait before the first fireworks shot up from the river, and then the Eye itself erupted with coloured flame. And then some more sparkles, and mild whooshes, and fiery explosions, and a short sky-filling finale. The crowds waited in vain for an encore, not quite believing it was time to go home already. Mayor Ken was right that this was only going to be a brief display, no more than three minutes, but definitely wrong that it would look better on the television (I've rewound the video, and those Scottish TV producers cut the event to shreds).
