Despite the opportunity for extreme drunkenness, I always think there’s something mildly depressing about New Year’s Eve. You’re another year older, the bars are all packed with once-a-year drinkers, you have to pay to get into the tatty boozer where they would normally pay you to come in and there’s that determined air of forced fun that you usually only find in America.
Because Pinar can’t drink we needed to find something a bit different to do this year, something that didn’t involve trailing round bars and house parties watching me get drunk. We ended up going into Newcastle having a meal, watching some live music then coming home and it was actually much better than the usual run on Dec 31.
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