Knickers. You guessed….red knickers for luck of course, de riguer and a la mode for NYE in Spain, doncha know? Yes, it’s that night again, they roll around with such speed these days, anyone would think we were growing older.
Tempus might Fugit but we’ll be doing the same old thing here, freezing our asses off in the village Plaza, tradition dictates we have a grape for each chime of the midnight bells and a gulp of cheap Cava to wash them down. By the time the last bell tolls we’ll be doing Brando/Corleone impressions and laughing our heads off, whilst simultaneously kissing and wishing everyone a Feliz Ano Nuevo – (actually that translates as a happy new arse and not a year as I don’t have the requisite accent on this silly UK keyboard.)
I will indeed wish for a new arse, slightly less padded and much more svelte as I roll out the same old resolutions, as 5:2 begins again in earnest – only to be a forgotten friend – or fiend – by February. Sure we have our health – what more do we really need?
The more padded version of this derrière will be snugly – slightly too snugly – encased in red knickers for good luck tonight. Although we all know luck is something that’s made and worked on. And I’ll wish tonight for all of you the same – so have a great one, whether it’s cosy by the fire with Jules and his piano, or freezing in your own home town square/pub:
Athbhliain faoi shéan agus faoi
¡Feliz año nuevo!
or Happy New Year!