The Time of (Our) Lives

New Years Eve is an elusive holiday. It often arrives quickly and unexpectedly, and then passes in the same manner. We all remember a handful of New Years', for one reason or another. However, most seem to be hazy, due in part to the excessive flow of champagne.

If you're in Australia, Sydney is the place to be...or not to be; this all depends on whether you 'fancy' massive crowds, streets that literally ooze-booze, and a fireworks show so elaborate they begin planning it 15 months in advance and have adopted the slogan "Time of Our Lives," the theme from Patrick Swayze's worst career move ever: Dirty Dancing. This line up certainly doesn't appeal to everyone, but I'm pretty sure Sydney swells to 3 times it's maximum capacity on New Years Eve, thanks in small part to the two of us.

New Years was a long day, as we ventured into the city from a train station at about 11am. The trip to the town center took about 45 minutes, and upon arrival we noticed people already preparing for the fireworks show...12 hours in advance!

Sydney's harbour is beautiful and extensive, and Circular Quay* is the launching point for dozens of fairies that will take you nearly everywhere in the city/harbour: Darling Harbour, Olympic Village, Russell Crowe's house, etc. Our destination that day was Manly Beach, where the NYE festivities were scheduled to begin. Unfortunately, the beach (water) was closed due to massive swells, (I thought that was the reason people went to the beach in Australia, it was certainly my motivation)...major bummer.

*pronounced Circular Kay - not to be confused with the convenience store Circle K

(Lauren attempts to blend in at 'Manly' Beach)

We made it back to town before sunset, only to notice the crowd has increased tenfold. Our hopes of finding a spot seemed to dwindle as we spent the day drinking champagne on the beach, and staring at refreshing water we couldn't even go in. Slightly buzzed, we wandered through crowded neighborhoods looking for a promising view of the Harbour Bridge, the center of the fireworks display. The search came to a sudden halt when we passed an excellent looking Italian eatery, and realized we had to have our last meal of 2007.

We met two Aussie girls in line, and with the hopes that we would get seated faster, we joined forces. For the rest of the night we accompanied these two on their shenanigans, and they outfitted us in glow sticks and supplied us with sparklers (why do people continue to buy these things?). We stumbled upon a group of rowdy folks from the UK and Ireland, who happened to have some prime real estate and boxed wine...and we all gave each other the are you thinking what I'm thinking? look. So we passed the remaining hours playing drinking games with our new friends, disappointingly lighting sparklers, and discussing politics (not really).

The countdown to midnight was interrupted by the, as promised, most amazing fireworks show on planet earth ever. A crowd of thousands sat with mouth agape as the show lasted for nearly 15 minutes. About five minutes in to the show, I noticed that we were seated in a river of alcohol flowing slowly down the street...which didn't seem to bother with me until about 2am on the zombie train back to our lonely campervan. After a brief, sobering nap in the train station parking lot, we headed back out on the open road, destined for the Gold Coast as we vaguely recounted yet another New Years Eve.

(The New Years Face)