Hogmanay: Get Drunk, Get Cold, Watch Shit Explode

There are plenty of perfectly reasonable ways to celebrate New Year’s Eve.

You can have dinner. Find a bar. Open an irresponsibly expensive bottle of champagne. Watch the countdown from somewhere with central heating and functioning toilets.

Or you can go to Edinburgh, stand outside in the Scottish winter with tens of thousands of increasingly drunk strangers, and wait for someone to launch explosives from a medieval castle.

I chose the castle.

This is Hogmanay, Edinburgh’s absolutely enormous New Year’s Eve celebration and Scotland’s annual reminder that weather is merely an obstacle separating you from alcohol.

And to Scotland’s credit, it is one hell of a party.

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DESTINATION: Hogmanay, EdinburgH Scotland

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SO WHAT THE HELL IS HOGMANAY?

Calling Hogmanay a New Year’s Eve party is technically accurate in the same way that calling Las Vegas a town with a few casinos is technically accurate.

Edinburgh essentially hands over a substantial chunk of its city center to tens of thousands of people and says, “Try not to destroy anything important.”

The main street party spreads through central Edinburgh beneath the Old Town and Edinburgh Castle, filling the streets with stages, live music, food vendors, entertainment, carnival rides, and enough booze to make you wonder whether Scotland has been quietly stockpiling it since January.

People arrive from all over the world.

Then everyone drinks together.

Cultural diplomacy achieved.

By early evening, the streets are packed and the party is well underway. Music is blasting, rides are spinning, food is being consumed primarily because somebody suddenly remembered alcohol works better when accompanied by something resembling dinner, and the entire city center starts feeling like someone accidentally organized a music festival in December.

Which brings us to one minor logistical issue.

Scotland.

In December.

At night.

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YOU WILL QUESTION YOUR CLOTHING DECISIONS

There is cold, and then there is standing-outside-for-hours-in-Edinburgh cold.

The difference becomes apparent surprisingly quickly.

During my Hogmanay shenanigans, the wind was absolutely hauling ass across the city. Watching my drone footage later, you can see the clouds ripping across the sky above Edinburgh like they had somewhere warmer to be.

Smart clouds.

Meanwhile, I was standing underneath them.

The frustrating part is that Edinburgh is so ridiculously photogenic that you keep forgiving it.

Edinburgh Castle sits high above the city on Castle Rock, dramatically illuminated against the winter sky while the historic buildings of the Old Town surround the festival below. Everywhere you look, there is something centuries old providing a backdrop for someone doing something monumentally stupid.

It’s beautiful.

It’s historic.

It’s atmospheric.

And you still can’t feel your fucking fingers.

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THE ENTIRE CITY IS NOW AT CAPACITY

Hogmanay doesn’t simply attract a crowd.

It temporarily overwhelms Edinburgh with humanity.

Hotels figure out very quickly that supply and demand is a wonderful thing and price themselves accordingly. Restaurants fill. Bars fill. Streets fill. Public transportation fills.

And taxis apparently enter another dimension.

Planning ahead becomes less of a suggestion and more of a survival strategy. If you’re thinking about casually arriving in Edinburgh on December 31 and figuring things out when you get there, congratulations on your optimism.

You and everyone else had the same idea.

The city handles the crowds surprisingly well considering the sheer number of people attempting to simultaneously eat, drink, celebrate, navigate, and find somewhere to piss.

But eventually mathematics wins.

There are simply a lot of people.

And many of those people have spent several hours drinking.

Which introduces another important Hogmanay survival skill.

Looking down.

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THE SIDEWALKS HAVE SECRETS

At some point during the evening, alcohol begins winning its centuries-old battle against human judgment.

People become louder.

Strangers become best friends.

Dancing becomes less coordinated.

Scottish accents become increasingly difficult to decipher.

And occasionally someone’s dinner makes an unexpected reappearance.

This is not a criticism of Hogmanay so much as an observation about what happens when tens of thousands of humans spend six hours aggressively celebrating with alcohol.

Eventually, somebody is going to puke.

At Hogmanay, that somebody occasionally seems to be everybody.

So while you’re admiring Edinburgh Castle, enjoying the music, and soaking up the atmosphere, periodically direct your attention toward the pavement.

Consider it defensive walking.

Your shoes will thank you.

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THEN EVERYONE STARTS LOOKING AT THE CASTLE

For most of the evening, Hogmanay feels like an enormous outdoor music festival that happens to have one of Europe’s most recognizable castles hanging over it.

As midnight approaches, that changes.

The crowd starts compressing.

Phones come out.

Conversations stop.

Everyone gradually turns toward Castle Rock.

And suddenly you remember why standing outside in freezing wind for several hours seemed like a remotely sensible idea.

Midnight hits.

The sky above Edinburgh Castle erupts.

Fireworks blast from Castle Rock while explosions illuminate the fortress and the skyline behind it. Music rolls through the streets below as thousands of people collectively lose their minds.

It is loud.

It is enormous.

And against the silhouette of Edinburgh Castle, it looks fucking spectacular.

There are New Year’s Eve fireworks displays all over the world, but Edinburgh has a fairly significant competitive advantage.

It has Edinburgh Castle.

You can’t really fake that.

For a few minutes, nobody cares about the cold, the crowds, the hotel prices, the transportation disaster waiting immediately afterward, or whatever biological hazard someone deposited twenty feet behind you.

You’re standing in the middle of Edinburgh watching fireworks explode over a castle as an entire city celebrates midnight.

That moment alone makes Hogmanay worth experiencing.

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SCOTLAND COULD HAVE PICKED JULY

My biggest criticism of Hogmanay is really more of a complaint directed toward the Gregorian calendar.

December 31 is a terrible time to hold an outdoor festival in Scotland.

This is clearly not Edinburgh’s fault, but I still feel somebody should investigate alternative arrangements.

Perhaps we could move New Year’s Eve to July.

Or move Scotland closer to the equator.

I’m flexible.

Because everything else about Hogmanay works.

Edinburgh is spectacular. The crowd gives the city an incredible energy. The music and street party create hours of organized chaos, and the fireworks over the castle provide exactly the kind of ridiculously cinematic finale you flew all the way to Scotland hoping to see.

Would I recommend going?

Absolutely.

Would I recommend wearing approximately seventeen layers of clothing?

Also absolutely.

Hogmanay is loud, crowded, expensive, freezing, occasionally disgusting, and completely over the top.

In other words, it’s New Year’s Eve done properly.

Just keep one eye on the castle.

And the other on where you’re stepping.

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BEFORE YOU SHOW UP WITH A BACKPACK FULL OF WHISKEY

Hogmanay has security rules governing what can be brought into the ticketed street party, including restrictions on alcohol, containers, bags, and other items.

Those rules can change between events, so don’t rely on whatever some asshole on a travel blog wrote several years ago.

Yes.

Including this asshole.

Check the current Hogmanay entry rules before you go.

Then dress for the Arctic, prepare to surrender a small fortune to Edinburgh’s hotel industry, and go watch Scotland blow up the sky above a castle.

Happy fucking New Year.