Never my favourite. Having partied all night, I usually don't surface until late in the morning, and then feel like I've been hit by a 10 ton truck. On getting dressed, I invariably find that in my bid to travel light, I didn't bring any clean underwear or comfy shoes, and am left seriously questioning the wisdom of traversing the country in what is so obviously party attire. Add to that the fact that it's usually raining, all the shops are closed, and no one is about except for a few gangly youths who think throwing firecrackers in front of your feet is something you'll appreciate; and you'll get why most years, this particular day is one that as far as I'm concerned, can't be over soon enough.

Not today, though. I didn't feel like partying or spending New Year's Eve with anyone, friends or relatives, and instead had myself a good time with a good book (Jhumpa Lahiri, The Namesake, London, 2003 (Harper Perennial 2004) ISBN 0-00-719607-5) and a bottle of bubbly. I rose early, cleaned the flat, did the laundry and the ironing, and made a pot of yummy tomato soup to go with my garlic and coriander naan. All in all, it's not been a bad day...the only downer, that I haven't had a chance yet to sit down and write some more. Maybe tomorrow.