If you want my twopenn’orth, London at New Year’s was bloody brilliant. We saw the sights a few days before and ate some fish and chips and drank some cider before the big celebration.
The weather cleared up just in time for the fireworks and I didn’t even need my brolly. I would have thrown a wobbly had it rained and sent me back to the hotel to watch the telly count down the minutes.
As we approached the bridge, we tried to suss out a good view. It was hard to get close to the edge as everyone was hugger-mugger trying to stay warm. I would have fancied another jumper as it was quite nippy.
We got spawny and found a good spot. A few blokes even let me snap a few pictures up front.
As the fireworks popped and boomed I was gobsmacked and over the moon. I thought, “Blimey, what a brilliant show,” but only managed several hundred “wow’s” like the rest of the chaps on the bridge. Cheers to jolly old England for a lovely holiday!