Rather a damp squib…

Well, that was rather disappointing.

Sometimes you wait in anticipation, sometimes you expect great things, sometimes you get your hopes up – and then along comes reality and kicks you in the bollocks.

What am I talking about here? Well, New Years’ Eve of course.

To be honest, I’d thought about giving New Year’s Eve a miss this year. I’d been out for a walk earlier in the day and done some food shopping. I’d then run into Ben and had a quick beer, after which I’d headed home and had some dinner. At this point, I’d decided that my best bet was to settle down in front of the TV and have a nice relaxed evening. Yes, I’m in my sixties now, and sometimes sitting on the sofa with a full stomach and a bar of chocolate is all you need. But it wasn’t to be.

Nigel messaged me, asking if I had any plans. I knew that the game was up right there and then. I wouldn’t be relaxing on the sofa after all. But at least I could have a few beers, enjoy the music and appreciate the fireworks. I was looking forward to it.

Half an hour later, Nigel arrived on my doorstep, having already quaffed the best part of a bottle of red at an afternoon gathering. He certainly has capacity, that boy.

I grabbed my coat and we headed out into the wilds of Fuzeta – except Fuzeta didn’t seem to be particularly wild that particular evening.

Most bars and restaurants were closed. The streets were dark and empty. It felt like a ghost town. We headed towards Kais Caffé, hoping against hope. As we turned the corner, we could see that Kais had its lights on and that there was life inside. Phew! We also noticed that the Ribeirinha area to our left was pretty empty. This is where Fuzeta parties the night away on New Years’ Eve, but it wasn’t looking good for this year. It was 7:00pm and it was empty.

As we headed in the direction of Kais Caffé, we realised that Abalo was open, a small bar located amidst a row of restaurants. Sitting outside were Chantal, Chad and Mary. Blimey! Result! It would have been rude to simply walk past, so Nigel bought a round of drinks and we joined them.

The three of them were heading off to La Plage for a meal later, but in the meantime, we chatted. The comment was made about how quiet it was, and there was some reminiscing about previous years. Two years ago had been spectacular. The Câmara had banned the official firework display, so the locals had been out in force with their own fireworks. It had been a fantastic night. Then last year, I’d had friends visiting: the bands were great, and the fireworks glorious. I’d really enjoyed the last two years.

Anyway, soon enough, Chantal, Chad and Mary disappeared off for their meal, and Nigel and I headed on to Kais Caffé – which, to be fair, was buzzing, probably due to the inordinate number of bars that had decided to close for the evening. It was also a lot warmer here too – as opposed to sitting outside Abalo. It certainly wasn’t a mild evening.

We found a table, had a couple of beers, bought a beer for Carlos on the next table, said hi to Antonio who was wandering around chatting to people (we didn’t buy him a beer since he only drinks water these days) and enjoyed the atmosphere.

Outside, it still didn’t look as though much was stirring, and the evening progressed with Nigel and I enjoying a few beers and a chat.

I won’t bore you with the rest of our time there Suffice to say, after a while, simply for a change of scenery, we wandered back to Abalo for a beer, then returned to Kais Caffé for yet another beer (yes, it was an exciting pub crawl…) before heading out to join the festivities at the Ribeirinha at around 11:30pm. And to be honest, I wish we hadn’t.

The queue for tickets to buy a beer was long and tortuous. We then had to queue at another cubicle for our beer, all the while listening to DJ-driven bollocks. What had happened to the bands of previous years? Whilst we were queuing, the fireworks began – and blimey, that didn’t last long, now did it? And they weren’t particularly spectacular, I have to say. In fact, compared to previous years the whole thing was rather a damp squib. At least, that’s how it seemed to me.

But probably the most depressing aspect of the whole event was the fact that there was no organised countdown to midnight. On New Years’ Eve, you have to have a countdown to midnight, don’t you?! Bloody hell. Yes, due to a lack of awareness, midnight came and went as we dutifully queued for our last beer of the evening. Yes, in fact we missed it…

How can you miss midnight on New Years’ Eve? That’s the whole point, isn’t it?

Anyway, roll on New Year 2027 (am I wishing my life away?), and let’s hope there is a better offering then. In the meantime, I’m going to stay off the beer for a bit, improve my diet and lose some of the weight I accumulated thanks to the pre-Christmas festivities.

Wish me luck!