2019 arrives in Zizkov

In Prague, they greet the new year with fireworks. Amazing quantities of fireworks, some of a size that might turn up in Wellington's big public Guy Fawkes display, rat-tat-tat in four colours at once - but let off in the streets and in the square outside our window, rising over the four-storey apartment buildings. They've been going for an hour and a half, but at the stroke of midnight they went full siege-simulation. If the local bell tower rang the hour, we coudn't hear it over the cracking and banging. Lightbursts peeking out over the roofs opposite, or shot from the roofs themselves, or entirely out of sight except for the flash like lightning. One of the larger golden-blossom ones misfired and went off at ground level, filling half the square and leaving a wide haze. An ambulance went past, and a police car not long after. I'm glad New Zealand has taken from its citizens the means to make chaos this glorious, but it's quite a thing to watch from a fairly-safe second storey window - fireworks the way they looked when I was a lot smaller myself.

A distant chorus of Auld Lang Syne. I'd been wondering if that was sung here. I wonder if we'll get to sleep before three - not betting on it. Welcome in, 2019.