Friday, December 31, 2004
Hogmanay
The mildness of the weather was most surprising. Not a flake of snow had fallen over Christmas, which is unusual for this area, but it did make driving much easier. Myself, Craig and Mikey went into town to get stocked up on food and drink for our Hogmanay celebrations and stopped in at the Forth Inn for a wee hangover cure; three Bloody Mary’s hit the spot magnificently.
Back at the Lodge Gail had gone swimming with Laura and some of the others and the rest just chilled out, relaxed and basked in the glow of happiness and hangovers.
The party resumed at about 3 o’clock with some drinks and at about 8pm, all 11 of us sat down to a meal of fresh steak pie - bought from the local butcher earlier - New potatoes and veggies. Desserts of strawberry cheesecake and chocolate gateaux followed and it was all washed down with several bottles of red wine and beer. The came an old Scottish tradition - the never-ending toast.
A bottle of champagne was poured into a large jug and passed round the table until it was finished. Each time it came to someone they had to make a toast and take a large drink. I remember toasting all my family and friends present and not present the first time, but the more the jug came round the more the grip of ridiculousness took over. By the end I was toasting Heineken and Doc Martin boots.
A quick shower after diner followed before it was time to get into my kilt then we all met up back in the main lodge to drink and party until the Bells. The local hotel also does a meal and disco and after 10om lodge guests are able to join in so a few of us trooped up to join in, returning just before midnight.
We went by the BBC TV clock, counting down from 10 to zero and the sound of Big Ben struck midnight alongside the gun fired from Edinburgh Castle. I always get emotional at this point in Hogmanay, turning first to my wife Gail, and then daughter Laura. Bollocks to the person who said Scotsmen don’t cry, because I always get a lump in my throat and tear in my eye during this moment.
Every year the hotel puts on a wonderful firework display that goes on to the sound of a live piper in the grounds. This year was no different, though standing downwind of the smoke was perhaps not the best move.
We all headed up to the hotel disco and I rediscovered my dancing genes. I have no idea where the energy came from but I was everywhere, and as I found out later, it was all Gail could do to keep my kilt down where it belonged.
We had brought a magnum of champagne with us and popped it off the balcony when we got back, keeping the party going until 4.30am when Gail, Laura and myself left to return to our chalet. Everyone was pooped though we did finish the champagne between us after Laura was down to sleep, retiring ourselves at 5am.
Back at the Lodge Gail had gone swimming with Laura and some of the others and the rest just chilled out, relaxed and basked in the glow of happiness and hangovers.
The party resumed at about 3 o’clock with some drinks and at about 8pm, all 11 of us sat down to a meal of fresh steak pie - bought from the local butcher earlier - New potatoes and veggies. Desserts of strawberry cheesecake and chocolate gateaux followed and it was all washed down with several bottles of red wine and beer. The came an old Scottish tradition - the never-ending toast.
A bottle of champagne was poured into a large jug and passed round the table until it was finished. Each time it came to someone they had to make a toast and take a large drink. I remember toasting all my family and friends present and not present the first time, but the more the jug came round the more the grip of ridiculousness took over. By the end I was toasting Heineken and Doc Martin boots.
A quick shower after diner followed before it was time to get into my kilt then we all met up back in the main lodge to drink and party until the Bells. The local hotel also does a meal and disco and after 10om lodge guests are able to join in so a few of us trooped up to join in, returning just before midnight.
We went by the BBC TV clock, counting down from 10 to zero and the sound of Big Ben struck midnight alongside the gun fired from Edinburgh Castle. I always get emotional at this point in Hogmanay, turning first to my wife Gail, and then daughter Laura. Bollocks to the person who said Scotsmen don’t cry, because I always get a lump in my throat and tear in my eye during this moment.
Every year the hotel puts on a wonderful firework display that goes on to the sound of a live piper in the grounds. This year was no different, though standing downwind of the smoke was perhaps not the best move.
We all headed up to the hotel disco and I rediscovered my dancing genes. I have no idea where the energy came from but I was everywhere, and as I found out later, it was all Gail could do to keep my kilt down where it belonged.
We had brought a magnum of champagne with us and popped it off the balcony when we got back, keeping the party going until 4.30am when Gail, Laura and myself left to return to our chalet. Everyone was pooped though we did finish the champagne between us after Laura was down to sleep, retiring ourselves at 5am.
Colin 3:02 pm