The burning of the clocks

Most of the day surging up and down on the emotional rollercoaster that is shopping. It is exhausting to dither about between shops, and trying not to get side-tracked. Shopping is NOT my strongpoint, but I cleverly avoided going into a pub instead, and made some steady progress by the end of the day.

Shortly after six I met Anton in the Eddy for a cheeky beer, and then we shot off through town down to the seafront to meet Rick and his bairns for the burning of the clocks. Compared to last year there didn't seem to be so many clocks, but still it was a good thing to watch - culminating in the burning of a Tower of Babel (a good idea) and fireworks. We were standing at the Terrace bar, with a good view of the procession, and handily able to sip a second beer there too.

Then Lorraine arrived, just in time to see the fireworks, as Anton began to slip into hypothermia - then we taxied back to Anton's place for champagne, a tasty pasta carbonara and apple pie with Anna.

Below three snaps from the burning of the clocks.