**On a side note, I have had to write this entry twice as it didn't save the first time, so this time around I can't promise how detailed or eloquent my writing shall be as I'm a touch frustrated**
Almost every year on the 31st of December I've turned the television on to catch glimpses of the fireworks erupting over the bridge and opera house as Sydney welcomes in the New Year ahead of us. It seemed like something so remote and iconic that it never really occurred to me that I could be one of those watching it in person. But there I was, standing at Circular Quay with some good friends and a nigh on perfect view of the Harbour Bridge.
We hadn't really finalised a plan in advance, and in the days preceding the event those of us in the hostel kept turning to one another and asking if anyone had an actual plan. The closed we got it was clear that we all wanted a good view, and that to do so we'd need to get up relatively early and set up camp for the day.
Initially we thought about heading to the Botanical Gardens, but when we arrived it was a pretty enormous line that greeted us. Fortunately two of our merry number had gone on ahead and called us to say that they'd claimed a good spot at Circular Quay, but that we should hurry as it was filling up fast and like most of the areas with a good view in Sydney there were stewards and fences to ensure that only a set number of people were in those areas. After an extraordinarily speedy power walk, in which the boys of our company severely lagged behind - they clearly need more practise shopping - we arrived, to ridiculous heat and a flock of umbrellas.
We decided to take it in turns to stay at the blanket as the day was such a scorcher and passed the time going for walks around the quay or using our hour passes out of our little pen to go to the pub. Time continued its progress and we were entertained with planes doing tricks, some mysterious writing in the sky (we think it was TV station names being written up there) and eventually darkness fell.
I nearly forgot to mention how my thong ended up floating in the quay...how neglectful! At this point I would like to add that thong is the Aussie version of a flip flop, so no my underwear wasn't mysteriously thrown into the water.
Here in Sydney a strong breeze tends to arrive in the late afternoon, on New Year's Eve it was a welcome reprieve as the day was ridiculously hot. A particularly strong gust struck the onlookers of the quay side, leaving people holding onto their hats and bemoaning their reversed umbrellas, much to the amusement of those of us that didn't have any. A little while later a young boy was heard saying "Look! There's a thong in the water!". I checked mine as I'd removed them whilst sitting on the blanket, though I couldn't see how it would have been blown away. But, yeah, I could only find one. So I wander over to check and lo and behold, there in the water is my beloved flip flop, a noble companion that had travelled with me to all sorts of countries and adventures. Perhaps I over exaggerate my attachment a little. Yet it did leave me with a conundrum as obviously two shoes would be desired for the walk home. To cut this anecdote short, I am now in possession of a pair of slightly too large Aussie tourist themed flip flops. They're not the most comfy, but they're holding up well so far.
At nine we watched the first round of fireworks. There were even some in the shape of jellyfish, which is a pretty cool feat. I was amused to see that most of us were mainly watching the fireworks through the tiny screens on our cameras and phones, desperately striving to get various modes on our cameras working and capture the best of the fireworks. There we all were, surrounded by some very impressive and spectacular sights, watching it in a weirdly removed way. Of course I did try to make sure I looked at them in person too, and I suppose memories are fleeting and those slightly blurry photos with peoples heads in the fore ground are at least there to call my own.
Now began the wait for the last few hours. With the clubs along the quayside, filled with their exclusive ticket holding patrons, blaring out music, some impromptu dancing broke out on our blankets as our enthusiasm and energy from the fireworks took over. Card games were played as well and the harbour filled with lit up ships that slunk around and filled the time.
Midnight was close. In that bizarre way that some crowds develop we moved as one entity at around half eleven and stood from our blankets, holding our ground against the invaders that had arrived later than us and yet were trying to push in front. We waited. Small children and slightly short adults were perching on tiptoes, desperate not to miss a thing despite the obvious fact that fireworks go up in the air (yes, of course I include myself in this category). A pair of neon lips appeared on the bridge and the countdown began.
To say they were spectacular was a bit of an understatement, and yes, maybe there are other firework displays that are more spectacular and smoothly put together without those awkward pauses where everyone looks around with a 'it can't be over yet, can it?' expression. But there I was, in Sydney, surrounded by friends and watching those bright eruptions over sights that I had only seen on television. It was definitely one of those 'once in a lifetime experiences'. Even if I were to return to Sydney in later years that group of friends that had assembled purely by chance, the chance of being in the same hostel,the chance of being the ones up and ready to leave at the same time that morning, wouldn't be present. Let's face it, part of a moment like that is the company. We'd spent over twelve hours in the same space waiting for this moment, and we weren't disappointed as fireworks leapt from the harbour, the bridge and buildings alike.
One of the crowning moments for me was when the bottom of the bridge appeared to release a waterfall of golden sparks into the water below.
The finale arrived, to much applause and the appropriate 'oo'ing and 'ah'ing that stereotypically accompanies fireworks. Smiles were everywhere and the mood remained jolly the whole way back home.
So there we have it, litres of suncream, a new pair of thongs, an assorted group of friends and two firework shows later, 2013 had begun. I can't wait to see what this year will bring if this is how it all began.
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