For the past couple of years, I’ve found myself in London for the first week of November. Usually it coincides with some work event, before taking a couple of days to catch up with the uni gang and enjoy my favourite British festivity; Bonfire Night.
The annual celebration commemorates the anniversary of a foiled plot to blow up the Houses of Parliament in the early 15th century. Across the country on the weekend of the 5th November you’ll be treated to displays of fireworks whilst gathering around bonfires with sparklers and toffee apples.
This year, thanks to a friend of a friend, we had a brilliant 360° view of firework displays from their rooftop, just south of Brixton. This weekend symbolises the turn of the season from autumn to winter and while this may usually be a depressing thought, as I wrapped up in a thick coat and wooly scarf to stare at the fireworks, it’s anything but.
Perhaps it was the glass of mulled wine I was clutching or the million layers I’d donned, but this special night, when the streets are filled with life, makes me feel warm and fuzzy inside. And although I returned to Paris full of cold and knackered from a weekend of one too many drinks with uni friends, I know that come next year, I’ll be back for more of my favourite festivity.