How to survive New Year’s Eve
The end of the year is nigh, and that means a few things. I try to avoid Facebook comments on news articles about Sinterklaas, I once again find out who my favourite friends are (not the ones who share their Top-2000 voting lists on social media), and I need to come up with a plan on how to spend December 31.
You’d expect that, for someone whose favourite drink is prosecco, and who loves nostalgic music, this wouldn’t be a problem. Unfortunately, the opposite is true. At the time of writing this – and probably at the time this is published as well – my only appointment on December 31 is at the dentist’s.
It’s a fact that things that are supposed to be ‘festive’, are often so forced that the festive character is nowhere to be found. This is exactly the problem with New Year’s Eve. Numerous retail chains have tried since September to force me to buy a specific, glittery outfit. All my friends expect me to buy tickets to some hip party, with a hip DJ, where I’d be standing filled with regret, in my hip glitter outfit. A night of singing along to Dutch songs with four Jägerbombs for 10 euros in café Otje apparently won’t suffice, although that’s basically what my definition of ‘festive’ entails.
The options for New Year’s Eve, then, are really quite scarce. But of course I do want to celebrate that the year 2019 will be over. As the party in Otje won’t happen, I can already paint you a picture of what the upcoming New Year’s will look like. Most likely, I’ll only give a New Year’s kiss to the floor, and I’ll end up at some random house party, in some random student housing facility. Where I’ll be late, because my dentist tells me I really do need additional insurance. I already know that probably if not certainly, I’ll have spent the last hours of December 31 browsing endlessly through information about the Dutch health insurance system.
The sting of New Year’s is definitely in its tail. As I’ll spend the 31 busying myself with a broad range of lewd acts, I’ll have to have an audience with my family on January 1. My first day of 2020 will pass in a fixed schedule of traditions. At 11 (!) am, I’m expected to arrive, and at 1 pm, the traditional New Year’s Dive is scheduled to take place. That doesn’t sound like a good idea, and it isn’t. The cold is unbearable, and the rest of the day, there’ll be sand in all kinds of places where you do not want sand to be. Afterwards, I’ll visit a pancake restaurant for the first and only time of 2020, and at 3 pm, it’s time for the second New Year’s Dive.
For those of you who will also be travelling to the periphery, I advise you to do so by train. You can have a nice, calm nap, won’t be a danger on the roads, and last but not least: students with a Weekend OV card travel for free on New Year’s Day.
Are you wondering about how to survive an aspect of Utrecht student life? Parties, bus 12, student jargon? And are you, perhaps, celebrating New Year’s Eve with Dutch songs and Jägerbombs? App your invitation/question/comment to Nina at +31618975307. You’re guaranteed advice in response. Whether it’ll be useful, cannot be said right now.