New Year's

fireworks.

For New Year's eve, we were invited by Lee's friend Ingrid to a party at the home of a friend of hers, Marit (apologies for spelling). It was basically a pretty small deal, with 9 of us in total: Ingrid, Marit, 2 other couples, then Lee, myself, and Will, an Aussie friend of Ingrid's. Incidentally, Ingrid speaks with the most Australian accent I have ever heard on a foreigner; its freaky.

Anyway, we had our little dinner party, and just before midnight headed up to a nearby church on a hill to watch the fireworks over Oslo. Fireworks are legal to buy in Norway between Christmas and New Year's, and they were in full evidence, in the hands of families, couples and, somewhat worringly, of drunken teenagers. It made for quite a different vibe to the prepared shows I'm used to in Australia, with the sky filled with small flashes and bangs for what must have been an hour. The three skips - Lee, Will and I - were like kids in a candy shop with the combination of fireworks and snow, and ran around like crazy people for a little while.

Afterwards we went back the party and hung out for a while, chewed the fat, and played multilingual chinese whispers until the vibe died around 3.