A lingering hangover sets in. Especially after last nights festivities. Its not much of a day. Recuperate and get back on it really.
New Years Eve in this city is different to back home. We go out and get trolleyed well before midnight at whatever party we are at. Hey, some of us will be lucky to remember the night. But here, it is a little different.
Festivities are usually slow, and for one of the party capitals of South America, a bit slow all night. It usually consists of having a big family dinner (much akin to a christmas dinner) and seeing in the countdown with your family. Then most of the young crowd will head out.
So the hostel (Puerto Limon) has made an effort to try to replicate it. With a big hostel communal dinner where everyone puts in a different dish. Marjo and I decide to grab a few chickens to roast i.e. I cook them. Plus a bottle of red and the obligatory Champers bottle.
It was also quite strange to see out the front of the nearby supermarket a make shift stall. Not any old stall, but one selling fireworks for anyone to buy.
Things start of slow at the hostel. Over a few drinks of Quilmes. Then a few glasses of red. And then back onto the Quilmes. Whilst roasting the chicken.
It gets to about 10-11pm and all the food is out. Buffet style. Where we proceed to chow down. The chicken goes down well, would of been best on ground, except for the pesky asado that got cooked up.
It gets closer to 12 and everyone’s ready to count down. 10, 9, 8, 7, 6 and fireworks are already starting to go off…5, 4, 3, 2, 1 and Happy New Year! With everyone ‘hugging it out’. Champagne uncorked and flowing. And then you hear the fireworks going off. I mean the illegal ones that any random can let off.
About 10 of us head off to grab taxis. Which are usually abundant but somewhat missing. It takes awhile but we grab one. And squish about 6 into one (a few others went off before us).
Our destination is a street party in Palermo. A bar has blocked off the entire street its situated on, with a DJ spinning tracks and a bar that has no real line up (seriously, the longest it took to get a drink was about 5 minutes). This was something unexpected. It was an actually decent party and seeing the first rays of sun hit Buenos Aires through the buildings of Palermo was a sight to behold even in a drunken state.
It was about this time, that the street had to be reopened and the party eventually shut down.But not for these local fellas, no, they kept the party going by starting a massive all in brawl. I have never seen so many kicks thrown in a brawl since the great football fight of 1982 (didn’t actually occur). That was quite a funny sight to behold.
We eventually find our way to a nearby street to try to catch a cab which evidently, every other person is trying to catch as well. It takes about an hour or so to grab a taxi back to the hostel to sleep.
Invariably, back at the hostel, that doesn’t quite happen. Breakfast is on the table, so a few of us tuck into that. And before you know it, someone’s got a beer out of the fridge. Next thing you know an Irishman and an Englishman have decided they don’t like each other and a few silly punches are thrown. And it goes back to drinking on the couch and talking a lot of shit before passing out.