New Year’s Eve in Manly felt surreal from the start.
This time last year, we had been in Hungary, wrapped up in winter layers and walking through a completely different kind of New Year’s atmosphere. Cold air, heavy coats, European streets and that proper winter feeling.
This year could not have been more different.
We were in Australia, by the water, with warm evening air, boats on the harbour and Manly buzzing with people getting ready for the fireworks. It was one of those moments where long-term travel catches up with you. You suddenly realise how far the year has carried you, not just in miles, but in the way life feels.
Earlier in the evening, Georgia and I headed down towards the harbour to watch the kids’ fireworks. The atmosphere was brilliant. Families were gathered along the foreshore, children were playing near the water, and everyone had that excited New Year’s Eve energy.
Georgia ended up having a very unexpected evening swim while we were waiting for the fireworks. She was mucking around by the shore with some other kids and got knocked in. One minute she was waiting for fireworks, the next she was basically part of Manly Harbour. It was one of those classic family travel moments: slightly chaotic, completely unplanned and somehow very funny afterwards.
Ali and Dotty stayed back at the apartment by then because Dotty had fallen asleep. She was absolutely worn out and there was no way she was making it through to foreworks.
The kids’ fireworks were a great choice. They gave Georgia a proper New Year’s Eve moment without having to fight through the full midnight crowds, and watching fireworks over the water always feels special. The colours bounced across the harbour, boats sat in silhouette, and the whole cove had that lovely mix of celebration and calm.
Later on, once Georgia and I were back at the apartment, we watched the midnight fireworks from the balcony. And honestly, the view was wild.
From where we were staying, we could look across the harbour towards a lit-up hill in the distance, and beyond it we could see the Harbour Bridge. It was not the close-up postcard view you see on television, but it was somehow better because it was ours. A quiet balcony, a sleeping Dotty inside, Ali with us, Georgia watching wide-eyed, and Sydney’s midnight fireworks lighting up the horizon.
The strangest part was the delay.
We would see the bright flashes first, bursting over the distant harbour, and then about five seconds later the sound would arrive. Huge rolling booms came across the water like thunder. It was unbelievably weird, almost like the end of the world in the distance, but beautiful at the same time. You saw the sky light up, waited, and then the noise came rumbling towards us.
That delay made the whole thing feel bigger. It was not just fireworks; it felt like the sound was travelling across Sydney to find us.
Standing there on the balcony, it was impossible not to think about the year before. Hungary to Manly. Winter coats to warm harbour air. European streets to Sydney fireworks. Same family, same journey, completely different world around us.
That is one of the strangest and best parts of travelling for so long. You do not just collect places. You collect versions of your own life that feel almost impossible to compare.
One New Year’s Eve we were in the cold of Hungary.
The next, Georgia had accidentally fallen into Manly Harbour, Dotty was asleep in the apartment, and we were watching fireworks roll across Sydney from a balcony with the Harbour Bridge glowing in the distance.
A very different end to the year.
And one we will remember for a long time.