Hogmanay. The biggest party of the year.
For those not familiar with the Scots word, Hogmanay is New Year’s Eve – but with celebrations traditionally stretching well into the 2nd of January (which our friends south of the border don’t get as a public holiday, but we do). It’s a bigger deal than Christmas in lots of ways.
Partying in town for the bells can be a nightmare. Taxis are almost impossible to get, prices get jacked up, and in the words of someone wise: ‘Hogmanay is when the amateur drinkers come out’. For that reason, we decided just to have some folks round who could either stay or who lived close by.
It all started civilised enough, with us sitting around sipping on our drinks, but that didn’t last too long. We weren’t too rowdy really, though our drunken rendition of a few Proclaimers songs and Runrig’s ‘Loch Lomond’ at the bells probably didn’t enamour us to the neighbours too much. Then again, Hogmanay’s the one night of the year where you can’t really call the police on people being too loud at midnight.
…and the day after.