Being organised is soooo 2008! Welcome to 2009, the era of mismanagement and poor timekeeping. Embrace it people, for I have in earnest.

Realising that '08 could possibly be my last New Year in Sydney for a while, I wanted to go out on a bang. However, Sydney's events have an annoying habit of selling out almost instantly. This is never the case back home, but here everything for the 31st sold out as early as October. (Glastonbury didn't even sell out this year I gather, but the Kings of Leon sold out in six seconds over here.)

I am not alone in my newfound lackadaisical approach; Lysey has also embraced the New Year in similar style as she managed to lock her car keys in her vehicle (30/12), thus costing her $150. To get them back she had to call out a locksmith, and at $150 a pop she managed to spend the money given to her from her Nan for Christmas. The money my Nan gave us is in my account, but it’s not awaiting her next lapse in concentration (that money is being saved for a pending trip to Melbourne).

Back on subject, as of lunchtime on the 31st I was frantically scrolling through the pages on eBay trying to do myself justice. I fancied either Shore Thing at Bondi Beach or Field Day, which was held on the 1st but because of the size of the event one would pass it off as being a worthwhile New Year's celebration. However, for both events sellers were demanding over $350 a ticket. I had managed to justify the sum in my head, but I was too late in bidding. On informing Lysey of my intentions she began demanding an excellent birthday present on par with my ticket. (It's not until February 3rd, but I am not spending $350 on her as I didn't get a ticket in the end.)

I suppose it was a blessing I didn't bag a ticket. I only say that because, according to the receptionist where I work, she said I would need to buy my drugs on top, thus making my day even more expensive. Recently, when I went to Global Gathering, there was a drugs bust and 52 people were arrested, and after hearing about it she wanted to know if I was one of them. Ha, I didn't know what to say; if I protested too much it could look like I was acting suspiciously and denying my habit, yet if I said nothing I would perhaps look sheepish. I did the latter, but I am no druggy.

So, instead of attending something big for maybe my last New Year's in Sydney for a while, I went for a meal with Lysey instead. At $95 a head, I would argue that this was worthy of being labeled 'big'. (They did throw in a free glass of bubbly though - how generous). Because of the timing, our restaurant of choice was offering a ’12 course grazing degustation menu’. When I made the booking I had no clue what the lass on the other end meant by ‘degustation’, and for anyone else out there who is none-the-wiser, it means a meal where there is a set amount of plates – and in our case, we had 12 to get through.

I imagine Rick Waller would enjoy a degustation. As for me, by the fifth serving – a tamari marinated soft shell crab – I was ready to pop. From that dish onwards I was taking one bite per serving and then saying to the waiter ‘next’! Consequently, I didn’t digest enough of the proceeding dishes of deep sea scallops, sweet potatoes and coriander dumplings, slow cooked pork belly, a sirloin of beef, Tunisian brik pastry cigars, raspberry sorbet and amaretto poached peaches to give them a rating. However, I must say the dishes that I did manage to put away – Pacific oysters, a baby spinach leaves salad, king prawns and Peking duck were excellent. You can see my point in why I reckon Waller would like to eat at Rubyos in Newtown.

Surprisingly, all the grub didn’t take long to get through, meaning we still had 30 minutes or so until 2009 was upon us. In search for a watering hole that looked half decent (it seems universal that places tend to charge patrons for entry to anything deemed ‘too decent’ on the 31st) we stumbled across a bar that had a live cover band playing. Once inside, I quickly gathered that Lysey was probably the youngest person inside, and I was probably the third or fourth.

The band was doing its best to get all in attendance in the mood for the big count down. It probably would have been useful then if they, or someone behind the bar, had a clock. There must have been 200+ people inside, yet nobody knew the exact time. After trying her best for a few minutes, the lead singer of the band instigated a random count down to bring in the New Year. At this time I glanced at my phone and to my amusement it said 00.03, so she was three minutes out. I find it amazing that on the one night of the year when it’s important to know the time, no one thought to bring a watch.

Anyway, to me, the New Year doesn't begin until the big hand has crossed the 11am mark, which is the exact time when England celebrates. (Fair play to Lysey, she sent me a text shortly after 11 to wish me a happy new year). I always sense that London attempts to compete with Sydney for the most spectacular fireworks, and in 2008 I would say that London was the winner. However, having watched Sydney's 2009 efforts on TV the next day I think London was doomed before they even lit their fuses. Simply put, Sydney's efforts were awesome. At a cost of $5ml what else would you expect? The NSW Premier and his cronies defended the decision to spend so much by means of a simple math’s equation: over one million were present in and around the Harbour Bridge come midnight so it roughly worked out at $4 per head. When you put it like that it seems money well spent in my opinion.

It might be worth pointing out that Sydneysiders, along with the vast majority of Australia, only get to see fireworks once a year. Mention the words 'Guy Fawkes' to any Aussie and they will usually look at you glumly. There is no such thing as 'remember remember the 5th of November' over here. In fact, the only place where one can buy fireworks legally in Australia is in the ACT (Australia Capital Territory - home to Canberra and not a lot else). Bizarrely, the ACT is also the only place in Australia where one can legally buy pornography. What a combination. Can you imagine buying those two in a shop? Would you hide the porn mag in the box of fireworks not to bring attention to yourself whilst queuing up, or would it be the other way round? I suppose you wouldn't need to bother, though.

Anyway, to get a glimpse of what was going on in the Big Smoke, I watched a synopsis of New Year celebrations from around the world. Ha, the BBC video reel rightly started in Auckland - the first major city to welcome 2009 - and having seen their efforts I would honestly describe the fire works I used to witness at Monkton Heathfield's bonfire night when I was a teenager as being better than those of New Zealand's second city. It's a strong possibility that we'll be there for them next year and I for one cannot wait! For the record, London’s efforts weren’t bad, but they also looked like Monkton Heathfield’s display in comparison to Sydney.

As it happened, New Years Day was spent indoors - and I for one was the main benefactor. The mercury must have been pushing the late 30's in the degree measurement, so I would have fried in such conditions. Moreover, on the night of the 1st there was a large fire in a chocolate factory in Sydney's inner-west (Marrickville to be precise, and we live in nearby Petersham). Inconveniently, the factory is located next to an electrical substation and as the fire soared that night the authorities took the decision to turn off the juice. 35,000 homes were affected, including ours, and as a consequence I had to sleep without the aid of a fan. As you may imagine, I didn't sleep too much that night because of the humidity, and to compound things further, we couldn't open the window for the waft of the smoke.

Moving on, 2009 has already bought about a new experience for me, and the year was only three days old when I went to my first ever cricket Test Match. I, along with seven others - three Australians and four South Africans - spent the day (Saturday 3rd) at the Sydney Cricket Ground for the Third Test, and I must say I had a great time. The only thing that would have made me happier was if England was the opposition, but seeing as the Saffas have managed to already beat Australia in the series (it’s their first home defeat in 16 years) I had plenty to smile about.

Sadly, inside the SCG they have banned the sale of full strength beer (the stuff that is roughly around 5% in strength). One of the lasses from our group put this down to the fact 'Australian men cannot be trusted'. I had to snigger at her tongue-in-cheek statement, but I felt discriminated against as, after all, I am an Englishman. (I wanted the strong stuff for I can be trusted.) Therefore, we had to make do with mid strength beer (3.5%), but it didn't seem to deter all of those in attendance; many people, presumably lightweights, were showing the showing the signs of intoxication come the end of play at 6pm. Nonetheless, it ensured a great atmosphere at the ground, and the 37,901 fans all went home happy (although some of that number were escorted for doing nothing more than being rowdy. The security on the day was on a serious power trip. Throughout the day there were loads of beach balls being thumped around the ground, but as soon as a security guard caught hold of any they would put a knife in them.)

It's worth noting that the total in attendance that Saturday surpassed any crowd at White Hart Lane, which is a little depressing. (I was knocking on the door of the pub at 6.30am on the very day, pleading with them to let me in to watch Tottenham beat Wigan in the FA Cup). Unlike any football match I have been to though I managed to get sun burnt even though we had overcast conditions for the entire day. They really should fix that whole in the ozone layer above Australasia before someone, such as me, gets seriously hurt.