Muted Hogmaney Celebrations The tragic aftermath of the tsunami cast a sombre shadow over New Year's Eve celebrations in Britain. In London, the £1 million firework display on the river Thames went ahead as planned, though a ten minute light display that should have preceded it was cancelled. Some 250,000 lined the Thames Embankment from Westminster Bridge to marvel at a fireworks display, which used the London Eye as its centrepiece. It was perhaps the greatest in pyrotechnic artistry that Londoners have ever seen.
In Edinburgh over 100,000 revellers saw in the New Year in the annual Prince's Street Hogmanay party despite wet weather and the ghastly events. As in London and most other city events a minute's silence was held in memory of the 160,000 known dead in the Indian Ocean. Oxfam workers in Edinburgh went round with collection buckets and were able to report a superb response. "It's been marvellous," said one collector to a reporter from The Scotsman. "We only started a couple of hours ago, and already we've had to empty our buckets twice. Everybody has been really generous and supportive." The evening revelry was climaxed with the traditional firework spectacular with Edinburgh Castle as backdrop.
Preparations for Burns Night
With Hogmaney safely behind us we Scots can now consider our options for celebrating Burns Night on 25 January. "A Man's a Man For A' That" on Burns Night and wherever Scots are gathered together in the world, celebrate it we shall!
We shall drink a toast in whisky to the poet, pipe in the Haggis and hear the eulogy to this illustrious sausage of sheep's innards and oatmeal penned by the Scottish Bard. We have been celebrating thus since 1801.
T'is a brave Sassenach who stands between a Scot and his malt whisky on such a night!
Fair fa' your honest, sonsie face, The groaning trencher there ye fill, His knife see rustic Labour dight,
Great chieftain o the puddin'-race!
Aboon them a' ye tak your place,
Painch, tripe, or thairm:
Weel are ye wordy of a grace
As lang's my arm.
Your hurdies like a distant hill,
Your pin wad help to mend a mill
In time o need,
While thro your pores the dews distil
Like amber bead.
An cut you up wi ready slight,
Trenching your gushing entrails bright,
Like onie ditch;
And then, O what a glorious sight,
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