fireworks2We approached the New Year’s celebrations with the best gay-boy-about-town intentions. At first, we planned to bop ‘til we dropped at The Loft, Norwich’s premier gay club (okay, Norwich’s only gay club).  This idea was soon swapped for a more sedate saunter to our favourite watering hole, The Birdcage, an intimate über-fashionable bar with a metrosexual vibe. The evening started in style with a leisurely bite and a bottle. After polishing off our second Pinot Grigio Blush, we paid the bill and wandered down the cobbled street. We peered through the dripping window of the pub. It was crammed with animated revellers. A line of youthful punters in identical skinny chinos queued at the door. Liam and I looked at each other with a can’t-be-arsed expression and, without a word, we tottered off home, arm in arm. I thought I was letting the side down until I gave a round-robin ring to my London life friends. One was watching Graham Norton, the second was catching a film on Netflix and the third was watching Julie and Julia on DVD. All were nesting on the sofa with their respective partners. Age has crept up on all of us. Like the sudden arrival of grey pubes, we didn’t see it coming. I don’t mind too much. Just like the Virgin Queen, I survived the slings and arrows and have entered my golden age. Elizabeth Tudor was no virgin either.

Every cloud, as they say, has a silver lining. If we had danced the night away in the company of trendy nippers barely out of short trousers, we would have missed the pyrotechnic gig on Auntie. With the exception of the brief and barely disguised party political broadcast on behalf of the Tory Party, the heart-stopping show stopper had us on the edge of our pews. See for yourself…

Imagine the absurdity of two openly gay, married, middle aged, middle class men escaping the liberal sanctuary of anonymous London to relocate to a Muslim country. I chronicled our exploits with the mad, the bad, the sad and the glad in a blog for the whole world to ignore. Then came the book which became a critically acclaimed best seller. Its success opened out a whole new career for me, firstly as an author, and now as an indie publisher. Who'd have thought it? Certainly not me. In June 2012, we ended our Anatolian affair and paddled back to Britain on the evening tide, washing up in Norwich, a surprising city in eastern England, then to the wilds of Norfolk as the only gays in the village. I’m sometimes nostalgic for our encounters with the hopeless, the hapless and, yes, the happy go lucky. They gave me an unexpected tale to tell and for this I thank them.

16 thoughts on “The Big Bang”

  2. Nice to be with someone you don’t “have to party” with!! As for the fireworks – sorry “bah humbug and all that” but it would appear a lot of money went up in smoke!

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  4. I just adore fireworks, although Sydney always takes the cake for me for sheer exuberance (great city, would recommend a visit!) We also spent the evening reclining on the couch, then peered out the window at midnight at our neighbors’ fireworks (and comforted the terrified dogs)… It happens to us all…

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    1. Sydney does do it well and Paris isn’t half bad either. Liam spent some time in Sydney way back when. He loved it too. Maybe we’ll pop across when I sell the film rights for Perking (sometime never then!) 😉

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  5. This post of contentedness and domesticity brought a wonderful smile to my lips and warm feeling to my heart. Holidays ARE all about who we spend them with. Happy new year to you and Liam. As my friend Niamh says, ‘may you have the best year for you’.

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  6. Glad you had a nice evening and happy new year to you.

    You were missed.

    I was home in time to watch the fireworks on the beeb amazing display. London at her best

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