There is always a massive hype around New Years Eve, one that I generally try to avoid as it always turns out disappointing. I’ve never even attempted to plan a trip into London on NYE, I can’t bear the crowds and the thought of spending £60 on club entry – sorry what?! This year we decided we should take ourselves away from the hype and do something different so we booked a trip away to that place oh so dear to our heart, Newquay. Having only ever experienced Newquay’s delights in summer we had no idea what to expect, all we knew was that fancy dress was obligatory which is a promising start if ever there was one. Knowing the ridiculous shenanigans Newquay has brought to us in past years we knew that a NYE spent there could never be disappointing!
We decided to make a 2-dayer of it, so after a 6-and-a-half hour journey involving “the best pork pies in the world”, scotch eggs dipped in houmous (“a whole egg?! Mental”) and our very own fabulous New(years)Quay playlist we checked into our Surf hostel in flip flops and sunglasses (can’t accept it’s not summer). Sadly we didn’t anticipate quite how dead the town would be, and so our big pre-new-years night out plans had to be slightly adjusted. Meaning, we definitely couldn’t wear glittery dresses or we would look like complete London twats. So instead we embraced the Newquay vibe and took ourselves down to Walkabout, where we have never known a night to be bad. Generally visits to walkabout involve cover bands and lots of stag dos; this was slightly different in that there was only a DJ and about 10 people but we had a fantabulous night none the less. Not much of it was remembered. All we know is we were found eating burgers with no buns and lots of onions (how?!), wandering down the street attempting to sing.
New Years Eve arrived with the hangover to rival all hangovers and lots of phone calls to people asking “what happened to my life? I lost my life”. We finally forced ourselves into the outside world to cure our malady with burritos, mash and fizzy orange followed by lots of leaning on lampposts and then a trip to the beach. It was a beautiful winters day which I could actually appreciate, and we enjoyed a lovely sit down amongst picturesque beachside surroundings. We opened a bottle of bubbly which we had every intention of drinking but unfortunately our bodies had other ideas. So instead we got the selfie stick out and videoed ourselves dancing to uptown funk (the first of many), which made the dog walkers’ days out much more eventful I’m sure.
Nap time accompanied by Enya came and went and then it was time for dress up preparations. Of course we were going as Harry, Ron and Hermione. Who else, please. So the hair dying and scar making commenced and one hour (and a very messy bathroom) later I was a fully blown gingerite. After a brief hostel-socialising-interlude we headed on out early to start our NYE bar hop and observe some of the craziest fancy dress costumes, including far too many boys dressed as girls. We arrived at Walkabout early where the tunes were on point so we had no choice but to take over the dancefloor, ending up with the whole bar watching our uptown funk dance. Yes, we were those people.
Newquay is most famous for the new year celebration in Central Square where they blast out music from the courtyard outside the pub and everyone gathers to watch the fireworks. The atmosphere was perfect – it was busy but not heaving, the company was fabulous and as the countdown began the heavens opened which suited me wonderfully because as we all know I love to dance in the rain. The selfie stick was constantly out and everyone was well and truly loving it. As soon as midnight hit and brought in 2015 we were on a massive high from life, dancing and skipping between bars and bumping into people who didn’t even care but just stated how jealous they were of our costumes. Wands became dancing tools as we took to the stage in every bar, and boy did we own those stages. The phrase “worry less about what people think” was taken to a whole new level where the dance moves got more and more outrageous and we got more and more sweaty in our Hogwarts uniform getup, and didn’t give a donkeys. Oh life. Life was fab.
Of course it wouldn’t be us without some end of night palavas to note. We tried and failed to have one last dance in Walkabout so ended up begging the bouncers to let us in by claiming “the manager is our best friend he loves us”. They totally believed us. Kevin and Perry sent “I love you” texts, lost their wallets and had hissy fits including smashing phones, and then proceeded to take over our shower (altogether) and pile into a small bunk bed cave. We ate pizza on the stairs and videoed the hostel worker doing vodka shots and shouting ‘twat’.
New Years Day we said goodbye to the glorious Newquay, departing with ‘the best pasty in the world’ as self-proclaimed on their shop door (I was very tempted to run in shouting “congratulations! you made it!” elf-style). After checking out we then received a phone message from the hostel saying “the dinosaur from last night wants you to call him so he can see your selfie stick videos”… amazing. We therefore had a meet up with said Dinosaur and other miscellaneous characters on the beach, which culminated in the penguin running in for a chilly January swim. Refreshing. The highlight of our day however was walking around the town in what you might call a daze and having a group of boys shouting at us ‘Yer a wizard Harry!’. It was at that point we knew life was good, because we can still be known as Harry Potter in 2015 wearing harem pants and bumbags.