HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!
Rio de Janeiro: 28oC, cloudy, hot and stuffy.
Good morning! New Year’s Day, often considered an uneventful anti-climax, holds a unique charm. It’s a day when most people rise later, nursing the remnants of the previous night’s celebrations or perhaps dealing with earth-shattering hangovers. It’s also the first bank holiday of the year before we return to the daily grind!
But for me, New Year’s Day transcends these typical excuses. Instead, it’s etched in my memory as one of the few occasions when my parents were still together. It lingers on New Year’s Eve and the ambience of our beautiful old house, where I spent my early years.
My father, who was very good with his hands, had built a breathtaking fireplace from weathered rocks he had sourced from a local quarry.
The front living room was the jewel of our home, where he had built this wall-to-wall fireplace with large shelves on each side. It became the centrepiece of our house, surrounded by walls adorned with rich, dark reddish-brown wooden panels.
The sofa and armchairs, upholstered in traditional dark green, harmonized perfectly with the room’s aesthetics. Atop the wooden-lined walls, my mother’s collection of traditional English ornaments added a touch of collectable elegance. On one wall were some beautiful tribal masks my father had brought back from Africa.
As New Year’s Eve approached, we gathered in the front living room, where the fireplace bathed us with its warm fire and charismatic glow. The cold winter bit outside, but we were warm with the fire indoors.
Our parents would invite neighbours to join in the New Year festivities, and as we commemorated the night before, one moment stood out for me more than anything else—the day that followed: New Year’s Day.
We woke early, and after breakfast, my father proposed a stroll through our town’s city centre. We piled into the car and headed to Stourbridge High Street. There, my father parked, and we ventured into the pedestrian shopping precinct, a semi-open-air shopping centre.
As it was still early, it was just us. The street, the corridors and the shopping centre were empty and serene, with no soul in sight.
For over an hour, we roamed, gazing into shop windows, enjoying each other’s company civilly and joyfully. In this public space, in a place that is usually bustling with people, it was just us. This memory etched into my young mind at the age of 7 or 8, or even less. It remains a cherished and captivating moment I carry with me until today.
I have grown to enjoy taking solitary walks on either Christmas Day or New Year’s Day, as it allows me to enjoy the empty streets and the peace and quiet of being alone. This unique connection to deserted public places might have stemmed from the rarity of experiencing such happiness when both my parents were still together.
So, on New Year’s Day, I found myself up and out early, strolling along Av. Atlantica by the beach, heading towards Leme. Street cleaners were already hard at work, clearing away the litter and rubbish from the celebrations the night before whilst others were still lying on the beach in a comatose state. I stopped by the Portuguese bakery near my home on my way back. I enjoyed a couple of coffees and wished everyone a happy and prosperous New Year.
In the early afternoon, I visited Nalva and Yasmin to personally extend my New Year’s greetings. Nalva’s family had gathered for a barbecue, and I spent a delightful couple of hours relishing good food, humour, and companionship.
As they are from Bahia, known for its African heritage, Nalva’s family personified the region’s characteristics of hospitality, friendliness, delectable cuisine, and music. They have always made me feel welcome, regardless of the situation.
As it was getting late, I returned home, did some work on my computer, and retired to bed by 8:30 pm.
Once again, I wish you all a joyous and prosperous New Year!
Thank you.
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Richard
