New Year's Eve in Adelaide

By the time we reached Veale Gardens the temperature had dropped to 35 degrees and the sun was behind a cloud. We picnicked at a wooden table near the yellow concrete creek which hasn't seen water for quite some time. There seemed to be no one around until two men emerged from a hollow near the waterlessfall and went off in opposite directions.

We walked across town to Elder Park, for the family entertainment, and sat down on the scratchy grass, amongst the multitudes of families. It was 8.30 pm, the sun had set, the River Torrens darkened, water from the fountain drifted towards the bridge, and The Fairies were on stage. In their pretty pink dresses, dancing, Slide! Wiggle! Star! We had not thought the family entertainment would be supernatural. We left and found a little pub off Hindley Street where not many people were, but you could get a beer. It will pick up later, said the barmaid to the man setting up the music, and he looked as though he hoped that this was so.

Back to Elder Park where magically The Fairies were still dancing. Slide! Wiggle! Star! Would you like to see some fireworks? they cried! Yes, came a low positive hum. The fireworks went off beautifully for ten whole minutes, illuminating the sky and trees on the opposite bank of the river. Don't go away! said someone from the stage. There's more to come!

But we had had enough, and walked across town to Victoria Square. Once, this used to be the hub of New Year fun, the town hall clock would strike the New Year in, to cheers and toots and whistles and kisses, but not this year. A few tourists snapped the lonely Christmas tree.

We walked back to our car, passing three homeless people on an otherwise empty street. Happy New Year, mumbled one, without turning her head. Happy New Year, I said to another. He gave me two thumbs up, and grinned. We got through Christmas! he called, to our receding backs.

We drove to Skye to see the city lights and parked outside a large house on a salubrious street. The lights were out in all the houses, and no one was home up there.

At home we cracked open a bottle of Sparkling Shiraz. Sat in the darkened lounge looking through the window at the moonlit garden. A pool of light spilled onto the grass and lit up half the lavender bush. We spoke of the past year, the coming one, and many other things.

Our daughter came home, at quarter to one, and sighed. What is wrong with this town? she said.