New Year’s Eve – Up the Kilt!

And so New Year’s Eve arrived. Both Canada and Australia got off to a sluggish start, but Australia soon took the lead after breakfast and set off towards the castle, leaving Canada to eat our dust. But something along the way caught our attention: the Whisky Tasting Centre. Considering we both like a drink of the stuff we headed inside to see what it was all about, and promptly booked ourselves onto a whisky tasting tour. We had a bit of time before it started, and we were freezing, so we nipped into a cosy little pub and grabbed ourselves a goblet of red. Probably not the best way to start off a whisky tour and by the time we were done my head felt considerably lighter, but we made it inside and learned all about the art of perfecting whisky, followed by the tasting of a single malt and a blend. This added to that familiar feeling of light-headedness, and feeling quite happy with ourselves we headed back through the city the scenic way, setting up our night’s dinner at a Japanese restaurant and grabbing ourselves a slab of fudge from the shop up the street. And so we never actually made it to the castle.

After finding on our return that Canada had been sleeping all afternoon, and a bit of a nanna-nap ourselves, we hotted ourselves up for a big night out at Hogmanay – the reason we had made the pilgrimage here in the first place. Hogmanay is Edinburgh’s famous street party that attracts tens of thousands of revellers every year. And in particular it seemed to attract Aussies and Kiwis in hordes – we were quite disappointed to meet more of them, and other tourists, than Scots themselves.

At dinner we formulated our ‘Up the Kilt Challenge’. Being four females, three of us single, it was always going to be a bit of a boy-chasing weekend, and so we decided we needed a challenge to keep us entertained for the night. Up the Kilt basically involved pashing people (keeping in the tradition of Snogmanay!) according to various categories (someone with a name starting with the same letter as yours, from a country on the other side of the world, someone ten years older or younger than you), getting photos of random things (ie with policemen and if possible, whatever lies (hangs?) beneath Scotsmens’ kilts), stealing things (scarves, hats), getting things from people (condoms, phone numbers) and other juvenile nonsense. Gold in the making…

So, lists in hand, we made our way down to Princes St. First off the mark was Australia, with me approaching the first policemen I saw to ask for a photo. First points to me, yah!!! And then of course we proceeded to the bar to buy beers.

Standing on the street corner at the main intersection, we set up our position for the night – and what a great one it was. We had people streaming past us from three different directions, and didn’t have to move the whole night to meet a lot of fun people from all over the world. In fact there were four different stages playing live music and other entertainment, but we didn’t see any of it because we were having too much fun at our little outpost!

Up the Kilt provided a good conversation starter and soon we had some hilarious conversations going on with random passers-by. When it came to the condom question though, many guys were quite offended and got a bit disgruntled when we asked. Weird! I started talking to an English guy called Tom, who happened to be a health worker – perfect! A person in such a responsible line of work was sure to have a condom. And he did, and even better, he was more than happy to part with it! As well as his phone number. Bonus! So I killed two birds with that stone. Thanks Tom.

In the meantime we had managed to meet a bunch of Americans who were based in Birmingham, working for the US Army and supporting the war in Iraq. Now this was a bit unfortunate for them, but they were all champs and became our mates for the rest of the night (and the next day). Jon, Keith, Dan & Jen were quite amused by Up The Kilt and after an explanation to them, Jon happened to comment that he was more than happy to help out with any point scoring. I didn’t need to be asked twice – Jon was hot, so I pashed him and he became my points for 1. having a name starting with J, and 2. being from the other side of the world. Sweet!

Then, randomly, our Italian friend from the night before, Roberto, happened to walk past with his mates. Next thing I look up and Rach is pashing Roberto! More points to Rach – name starting with same letter, and boy from other side of the world… hehe! In fact Rach and I had a competitive thing going on – Australia vs Australia – as well as with Canada, particularly when it came to attempting to get photos of Scotsmens’ wares.

The worst thing about festivals such as Snogmanay is the toilet line-up. The row of porta-loos stretched all the way to the castle (well that may be a little embellishment of the truth), and the distinction between the line-ups to each one was always blurred… elbows were definitely required! Just in front of us was one of the million Aussies in the place, easily identifiable due to the Australian flag draped over him. I thought he looked like an idiot, so I asked him (rather indignantly I must admit) ‘what are you wearing that flag for?’ He proceeded to get quite pissed off, and said he was proud to be Australian and wanted everyone to know where he was from. Then he told me I was un-Australian for bagging him! The girl in the line in front of me gave me a mouthful as well. Luckily we had reached the front of the queue by then, and escaped a likely tussle with our fellow Australians when Rach shoved me into the porta-loo. Good save!

So then midnight arrived and there were amazing fireworks over Edinburgh castle. By this stage there were plenty of Scots (and pretenders) more than happy to flash us, and then the competitive streak in all of us definitely came out. Someone managed to get some evidence of flashing, but it’s definitely not going on Facebook!

And a little while later, I found out why they call it Snogmanay. Things were winding up and Canada, Australia and America had decided to head back up to town and find somewhere new to party. We were walking up the street just talking crap; I looked up to see a guy walking directly towards us, making a beeline for me; then he was in front of me, and just grabbed me for a pash. Random! My immediate thought was ‘how old is this guy and where is he from?!’ because he looked about 18 – and I thought I might get some points for pashing someone ten years younger than me from the other side of the world :) The latter point, yes, as he was Brazilian – but he was 23, so I lucked out with that one. After solving these two profound mysteries, I decided he was cute and a good kisser, so I pashed him once more before keeping on walking up the hill. The others told me it was like witnessing the embrace of two lost lovers who hadn’t seen each other in years. For me it all happened very fast! Hehe!

And after that brief moment, it was game on! For some reason, my actions were the catalyst for an immediate flurry of point-scoring in the Up the Kilt Challenge. Random pashes were handed out left right and centre. Scots were approached to show us their wares in an attempt to get an elusive photo! On our walk back up the hill towards the tourist strip, I proceeded to grab a hat from a random person’s head and ran off. But almost immediately after legging it up the hill, hearing his surprised shout and then pursuit, I realised it was a futile exercise and stopped in my tracks, sheepishly handing it back to its rightful owner, much to everyone’s amusement. Almost got some points. D’oh!

Eventually we found a nightclub called Espionage and headed inside. The place was huge, and on entry and setting up a spot at the bar, we ran into some Swedes who were busy slurping down their Vodka illusions, and invited us to join in. I think this set the tone for the rest of the night! So much so that at a later point in the night, after moving from our original position, I suddenly realised that we’d left our jackets at the other bar with all my money, phone and other valuables in the pockets, so I ran off to retrieve them all… only to find that I couldn’t find them, and that all four floors of this gigantic place were all exactly the same. I ended up going round and round the floors and staircases and getting more and more worried about my valuables. I finally found the bar and a pile of coats that I thought were ours, and started going through them looking for my wallet, much to the dismay of the people at the bar who thought I was trying to flog their valuables! In the end I finally ran into Rach on one of the floors, and begged her to lead me back to where we were, and where our jackets also were. What a tosser!

After a while we decided we were all hungry and it was time to go home, so we headed out to grab some disgusting – yet strangely satisfying – UK takeaway before heading back. And then the one thing that Jon will never do again, to ask me: “So what are your thoughts on America’s involvement in the war in Iraq?”

And I let loose! I think he was very sorry he asked… but I learned some interesting things about people working in this job: the main one being that they have been completely brainwashed by their government about their duty to protect America’s sovereignty, doing the ‘right thing’ by leading the Iraqi people to democracy (yeah right! I don’t think they tell them about America’s real interests in the country), so much so that they can’t see just how much damage they are doing and how the world views them. But by talking to him I also became more aware of the huge psychological damage that this war has inflicted on America’s soldiers. Something to ponder at 4:30am on the first day of 2009.