Let's have a toast!
To charity, fixedness, hope
A toast!
To the day after tomorrow

-Gordon Downie, 'Christmastime in Toronto'

It's been a while since I blogged here (the nineteenth of October LAST YEAR).Stuff has happened in that time, but not really Travel Blog-worthy activities: Meze worked as a waitress until she started her job in a Forensics Lab (Wildlife DNA, so it doesn't matter if she's a terrorist or not), and I temped for six weeks on a rail infrastructure project.I finished up just before Xmas so I can do something a bit more challenging (and better remunerated) in the new year, and, funnily enough, after leaving work the Travel Blog activities have returned.

First was Christmas in Germany with Peter and Sina and their families.We flew to Lubeck via London on the 23rd, stayed one night in Hamburg, then drove north.We spent Christmas Eve (traditionally the big Xmas celebration in Germany) at Peter's parent's place, enjoying roast duck, rotkohl and unwrapping presents.After another feast for breakfast we drove half an hour to Sina's parents, and had a big lunch (roast venison amongst other things) and a big dinner, separated by a welcome walk by a lake.Sadly, it was not a white Christmas, but I'm sure it will snow for us soon enough and it will be something to dread rather than wish for.

So yes, Christmas in Germany.It was really great to be a part of a family (well, two families actually) and eating so much rich food made a lot more sense when it was three degrees outside rather than 25.

We flew back to Edinburgh (via London again) late on Boxing Day.We were a bit nervous about the small window of time we'd allowed ourselves between arriving in London (Stansted) and checking in for our Edinburgh flight, but we made it with ten minutes to spare.So, unlike some people mentioned occasionally in this blog, we've yet to miss a flight.Fingers crossed it stays that way.

When we'd booked out German jaunt, we didn't know where we'd be working at the time, so it was just a flying visit over the stat holidays, but as it transpired, Meze isn't due back at work till the 3rd, and I'm still waiting to see where I'll wind up working next.To fill our spare time, we went on a day tour of the highlands a few days ago.It ticked a lot of the boxes (highland cows, lochs, snowcapped bens, emerald- and russet-lined glens, whisky distillery) but it was a bit frustrating that the tour didn't stop at some of the really beautiful spots (the photos of the lochs were all taken from inside the moving tour bus), and we spent time in some places which, if the choice were ours, we would of kept moving.But anyway, it was a good taster and next time we head north (in a rental car) we'll have more of an idea of where to head.

Yesterday was new year's eve, or Hogmanay as it's celebrated in Scotland.In the morning we went to the Walkabout to celebrate NZ's new year at 11am our time.We had a Tooheys Extra Dry (yes, it's Australian, but it's too good to ignore for parochial reasons) surrounded by other Kiwis, and met up with Ainsley, who we know through Dan and Laura, and she invited us to some other Kiwis' apartment for drinks before the big street party on Princes Street.

Come the evening, it was drizzling a little, which affected some of the photos but didn't dampen anyone's spirits.Speaking of spirits, the strangest thing for me, even after travelling through Africa and Europe where attitudes to public drinking (and drunkenness) are a lot more relaxed than in NZ and Australia, was that the street party was BYO so long as you didn't bring glass.It meant that even though it cost £5 to get into the street party, it was one of the cheapest New Years ever.[Due to a slight miscalculation, we'd drunk all our alcohol before leaving for the street party, but managed to mix together something from the remnants from the kitchen and hit the streets.]Makes a big difference from trying to sneak bottles of vodka into cricket matches by hollowing out a loaf of bread.Ah, misspent youth.

The street party itself was a bit strange on reflection.Essentially you're standing in the middle of a street surrounded by 100,000 strangers.There were music stages down in the gardens (which you needed a different ticket to get in to) and big screens at either end of Princes Street, but I don't really remember hearing much in the way of music.The three hours from 10pm to 1am was spent walking around, talking to random people.Everyone was in a good mood, even the police and security guards enjoyed a laugh.I even got one of the crowd control dudes watching proceedings from the roof of a bank to join in with my rendition of YMCA.I'm not sure how it all worked so smoothly (obviously I may have missed the unseemly side of Hogmanay, but I haven't seen any negative items in the news or on the net, so…), what with 100,000 people standing in an enclosed street with whatever alcohol they can carry.Even though a lot of the people were from NZ and Australia, it just wouldn't work at home.It's a great thing when the organisers of an event like Hogmanay work on the assumption that most people are there to have a good time and will behave themselves, and this vibe flows on to the staff on the gates and the ones walking round in fluro vests happy to high five drunk Saffas and Kiwis.The last five years in NZ, everything has flipped around and organisers and security and police all assume everyone is a troublemaker and no one can be trusted.[I remember when Yak and Nigel got their toy horses confiscated at the gates to Westpac Stadium because they were over a metre in length because that meant they constituted a weapon.]

It's strange, considering how laid back NZ is supposed to be… It's just not true anymore, if it ever was.

Anyway, enough of that.Just an observation.

The fireworks at midnight apparently cost £1.3 million, but most of it was shrouded in smoke.I'm not sure if they were setting off too many at once, or if it was too cold and the 'smoke' was actually 'heat haze', but I've seen better.It got me wondering what alternatives there are to fireworks: they have become a bit of a cliché way to end, begin, or even punctuate a celebration.If someone gave me £1.3 million I'm sure I could come up with something, but until the cheque clears, I'm not going think too deeply about it.

Up next on the travel itinerary is a weekend in Madrid for my birthday (which I shouldn't know about, but I do, through no fault of my own), and Easter in Norway.Looking forward to the fjords.

And hopefully it'll snow in Edinburgh at some stage.

Enjoy the photos and the obligatory fireworks video (you'll see what I mean about the 'smoke').

Happy New Year

Craig