For one, you never know where the real party is. Second, you don’t have a big group of friends to share the night with. And while some towns seem like they would have great nightlife, you often find that bars and clubs leave a lot to be desired.
After below-average experiences in Borneo, Vietnam and Perth the past three years, we were determined to have a vaguely enjoyable new years eve. Fortunately our friends Larry and Larna were also in town, so we had company.
We kicked off the night with a visit to an Italian restaurant that made handmade pasta. It was difficult to pick a dish off the bamboozling array on the menu that included fresh salmon ravioli, gnocchi, tortellini and sauces made of prosciutto, sausage and eggplant. Finally I settled on fettucine puttanesca and was not disappointed.
We then cruised the streets to find where the party was at. One of the streets in town had been blocked off and the bars had tables spilling out onto the street. We picked the one with the live music - a singer and a keyboardist covering popular latin songs.
It wasn’t long before the street was full of people dancing. Unlike Australia, everybody knows how to dance – even the old men are adept at shaking their booty. It was great to watch couples dancing with each other, effortlessly pulling off complex salsa routines.
I was sitting at an outside table watching the party, when a Mexican guy dressed “al ranchero” with hilarious pointy white shoes asked for a dance, or rather pulled me to my feet and dragged me into the crowd. He was pulling off all the salsa moves – spinning me around, shuffling from side and doing the cha cha, and I attempted to copy. Like most Mexican men, he was a good head shorter than me!
All up it was quite a chilled night. There was no countdown to midnight, apart from the informal one we did at our table – it seems like Mexicans aren’t fussed about the exact timing of the new year. They were too busy enjoying the party.
It was great to see people partying in the street – although I can’t help thinking the real Mexican party was in some other part of town that we had failed to find.
Curiously the main plaza in town was really quiet that night. I had expected it to be a focal point of festivities. The previous night it had been packed out with families watching a clown perform. He had formed a conga line out of a bunch of kids picked from the audience. As we walked over to see what the fuss was about, the clown’s eyes fell on Adam, and within seconds Adam had been dragged into the show.
The clown made fun of Adam’s big feet (they were the same size as his clown shoes), then made Adam pick him up. Then he had Adam stand with his legs far apart, and made the conga line of children walk in between Adam’s legs one at a time.
I filmed part of it – watch it at http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=x6bLJSP12JQ
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