Into 2008

The first blog of 2008 for me starts with my recount of how 2007 ended. Having worked in the morning of New Year's Eve, I permitted myself a nap in the afternoon so I wouldn't be bushed come the striking of midnight. Mel Leigh phoned me at 2.30pm just before I drifted off, reaffirming her earlier message that her party to which I was going was kicking off in more than good time before the chimes of Big Ben resonated. The time had been set for 8pm and for a New Year's Party, I thought that was more than enough time. I woke up at around half five, had my dinner and went off.
t was all pretty smooth until exiting Canada Water, south of the Thames near Docklands. The numerous complexes and estates often ended in cul-de-sacs which didn't appear on my seven-year old London A-Z, but eventually I made it to Rotherhithe Street, where Mel's place was. Trouble is, the street is very long and unwittingly I had come out at the opposite end to where Melly is situated. I walked up and down this far end until I received directions, basically to keep walking in one direction. Then Simon Savory called me and asked me where I was. I said I was near a pub and he replied "I'm raising my hand, can you see me." Of course, he was near another pub and I passed four, I think, on my odyssey. this farrago was repeated five minutes later, but with bus stops the props. Eventually, Simon and I coincided and I got to the party after 45 minutes of trudging around the area, at 9pm.
Most of the party people had been drinking since 4pm so I was initially too sober to fully communicate on a level with the others. Then Lyns, Miriam, Claire and Bex deigned to join us at half ten. Simon had already proved at least once that there was enough room to swing a fully grown woman around and now there were four more potential victims at his disposal. Elsewhere, some women swung off a door as a party piece, but not before they had put a teatowel on top of the door so as not to muck up their hands.
I announced individually at a time that Altaa and I were planning to get married and there was a flurry of profuse congratulations that a little overwhelmed me. The punch that Simon had made went down well (even next morning it still smelt good to the lucid nose). And then we abandoned the apartment in stages for the midnight gongs.
Outside, the rain was steadily blanketing us, but the Canary Wharf area looked pretty. I had first seen it that night on the approach down Rotherhithe Street, which at first threw Simon, thinking I was on the other side of the river. As we congregated on the Thames with the group diffused, a riverside flat had their telly on and we missed the countdown, hearing the bongs of Big Ben from the flat's television broadcast. Then our group fully reunited. In contrast to the Westminster extravaganza, there were four fireworks in our location and that was it, since not many choose to see in the New Year in Docklands. But at least we can say we were there.
It was back to the flat, people taking it in turns to prop up Claire who was barely awake from intoxication. We had a little after-party and around 3am, party-goers finally left, but not before Miriam had tried to play the guitar in Mel's room and Claire threw out all the shoes from under Mel's bed looking for her heels (they were recovered in the morning daylight), Lynsey continually chivvying her charges to leave.
I finally fell asleep at 4am. I woke up at 9am and spent most of the following hour talking to Mel. Mel, Simon and myself met up with some of Simon's friends and Lynsey, Claire, Bex and Miriam in Liverpool Street for the Wetherspoon's there. Miriam came up with the best line since December 2nd, when Mel, on learning that there were three prisons on the Isle of Sheppey, asked "Aren't there any humans there?" Deriding the manner of preparation and tardiness in arrival expected of Wetherspoon's as we reflected on how late Miriam's vegetable chilli was, some chorused that all the pub staff needed to do was bung the chilli in a microwave, to which Miriam quipped in lamentation "But they only have so many microwaves."
Simon and his friends departed at 4pm to see the scene of Jack the Ripper's first murder, apparently still in pristine Victorian condition. At 4.30pm, we decided to head off and outside I left the girls to their trek back to Bethnal Green. On the Tube, I almost came a cropper as heading down the stairs I found to my horror that my rucksack was still open from when I had opened it to get out my camera to show pictures of the party. Luckily, my possessions were still in situ, but it gave me a scare. Overall, it had been a decent entree to the new year.