Since becoming parents, we hadn't really bothered with the whole New Year thing in the UK and usually just watched a bit of TV then went to bed. Both of us had done plenty of partying in the past, so didn't miss it at all. Personally, I find New Year's Eve a rather emotional event for some reason, and nowadays just treat it as a normal evening.
But, for our first New Year's Eve in Japan we thought we really ought to do something special.
However, we weren't entirely sure precisely what to do, bearing in mind we had a 5 year old child to include, as well as my Mum...
At the time, we had no idea on the significance and tradition of this special day in Japan so were only basing our expectations on the UK celebrations.
Our options seemed to be one of two things: either visit a shrine along with several thousand Tokyoites or spend the evening at the work bar, where a special evening had been planned for the first time as a number of new people had just arrived.
Tim and I spent a couple of days researching our options: I talked to the young blue-haired lad in the conbeni - corner shop - who proved to be an asset as he spoke a little English and was eager to chat whenever I popped in for milk. Tim spoke to his colleagues at work.
While some couples were off to see what happened at a shrine, my conbeni friend said an emphatic "no" to this when I mentioned it to him. I think because he'd seen Rhiannon and was worried she'd be crushed by the crowds. Further questioning discovered that all the shrine-goers throw coins a long distance, so, in the position of caring parents, we decided to take his advice and not go. This left the work 'do', so that is where we ended up.
What a strange evening that was!
A few people, none of whom knew each other, sat in a soulless bar clutching drinks tried to make small-talk above the sound of some random music, while an overtired, but excited 5 year old ran around trying unsuccessfully to find something to do.
Accutely aware of being in a bar with my Mother for the first time, I was unable to relax as I felt I should keep an eye on her. Apart from the weirdness the actual fact engendered, New Year's Eve has always been a very poignant time as something had happened the New Year's Eve shortly before Dad died - it seems he'd had a premonition that it was to be his last New Year on earth and photos of the event show a scared man looking at the camera. Very painful.
So, we edgily sipped champagne, watched the clock until it said midnight, kissed each other and headed off home, expecting to see and hear fireworks and crowds of people.
But nothing! No fireworks, no people, no singing or shouting, no drunken louts lying in gutters or staggering along the street, no pools of vomit everywhere, nothing!
The whole journey home was a quiet as the grave, not a soul to be seen. This was my first sense of culture shock, it was just so incredibly different, yet pleasantly so.
