Hey Friend!
Happy New Year! How are you? Hope you had fun seeing in the new year, whatever that means for you. For me it means PJ’s, watching the fireworks and praying together as a family before heading off to bed. This year, it was also accompanied by Bubs having several tantrums because he didn’t have a nap in the evening. This meant he cried during our boardgame marathon which quickly became a sprint as no one wanted to play once we realised he would cry every time things didn’t go his way… He then talked all the way through the fireworks, much to Mr E’s displeasure.
Anyway, that aside, everyone woke on New Year’s Day in better spirits and were looking forward to Older Miss’s suggested idea of a trip to Waterstones. The children got some book vouchers for Christmas so this was a good time to spend them – or so we thought.
We headed to the big Waterstone’s store in Piccadilly Circus. We got on the bus and all was well until the bus driver mumbled something about a diversion through the speakers. He was now not going to Piccadilly. I went to speak to him:
‘So what’s the closest you’re going to get to Piccadilly?’
‘I’m not going to Piccadilly.’
‘Yes, I know. But where are you going that’s close to it?’
Cue a lot of noises: ‘Hmm… Well… Ummm…’
Another passenger who was sitting nearby suggested where to get off as she was going to the same area. I thanked her and told the driver not to worry who by now looked like his head was about to explode from all the over-thinking.
After re-grouping with the family I decided the best course of action would be to get on the tube. The bus diverted past Waterloo station so we got off and onto the tube for a couple of stops.
We arrived at Piccadilly Circus and, you’re not going to believe this but the crowds were crazy. We struggled to get out of the station and it was then I remembered why I would never purposely venture into central London on the 1st January – the New Year’s Day parade.
Everywhere we looked there were people. And we were on the wrong side of the road…
Mr E gestured for us to go forwards so I told him to lead the way. We headed up Regent’s Street where a security guard in a Santa hat said something along the lines of ‘keep walking’ when we paused to potentially cut through the arch to the road parallel.
We continued until we came to a turning and ended up at the other end of the road we wanted to be on. The children were happy enough to see the dancers and hear the booming music – not that Bubs could see anything until Mr E hoisted him up onto his shoulders. OM insisted that in all her fifteen years I have never ever mentioned the New Year’s Day parade. I know I have, but of the two of us, she would rather rely on her own memory bank than mine.
I cannot tell you how long we were walking but it seemed like forever, only to arrive back exactly where we started with no way of getting across the road.
A kind policeman suggested trying to cross further up when I asked. I told him that was blocked off. He looked at me with a pity smile and said we would have to wait it out, maybe fifteen or twenty minutes.
As we stood waiting a lady in a gorgeous deep purple coat with purple eyeshadow to match, smiled at me and nodded. I smiled back and we wished each other a happy new year. She said she didn’t like standing too close to the protestors as she felt a bit scared. I smiled as she headed deeper into the crowd. There weren’t many protestors. They held signs aloft while the floats went past and while I don’t deny anyone’s right to protest, I did think what was the point of doing it there? I doubt very much they would have been kept in the shot when it was televised but hey, each to their own.
If we’d only come out of the right exit from the tube…
Mr E suggested heading back down to the rabbit warren of Piccadilly tube station. I don’t know how many exits he went up and came back down again shaking his head. OM and I looked at the map. There were two exits on the South Side. It had to be the other one as the one we’d come out of was wrong. Mr E had already tried that exit and wasn’t convinced but, as we pushed through to the top – result!! I don’t think we’ve ever been happier to walk into Waterstones. Finally we could relax, search for more books that would make the cut and travel home with us. We could flop on a sofa while a marching band trooped past playing The Eye of the Tiger and enjoy the fact that they were out there and we were not.
Eventually the pumping music and the announcer roaring into the microphone faded away and there was a near stampede of people leaving the store. It seemed many had come in just to hide. Clearly not hardcore book-lovers like us.
Leaving Waterstones with our hoard of purchases, we stepped onto a street how it should look on New Year’s Day – minimal people, no floats, no dancing ladies with feathered headdresses and no marching bands.
We got back on the tube with weary smiles. There will be more trips back to Waterstones, of course, but never again on 1st January.
Hope your New Year’s was far less eventful than ours!
Speak soon x
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