Delhi's Biggest Bash

My birthday was so completely awesome. I was inundated by a multi-media barrage of phone calls, smses and emails from all over the world and I got spoilt rotten with the most awesome prezzies. The spoiling started with a cake special delivery from South Africa, continued to another cake and happy birthday singing knife from work which subsequently got smashed all over my face (apparently this is the Indian tradition) and it didn't stop. By the end of the party the lounge resembled a florist. One of the highlights (other than the 4 pounds of Twizzlers that Chanda brought back from the States for me) was my cake. Knowing my dream of going on the back of a motorbike, side saddle in a sari with no helmet, Elodie and Nic designed a cake with a picture of just that. I was blown away.

By all accounts the party in joint celebration of my birthday and farewell and Nic's house warming was a roaring success. It was the perfect mixture of the right music, right people, right venue, right food and lots of drinks. We organised the kebab guy from Kahn market to come and cook mutton, chicken and paneer romali rolls. Despite thinking we had grossly over ordered they were all finished by the end of the night (5.30am!). Thankfully we had the foresight to organise those big mushroom heaters as it was a very chilly December night - contrary to popular belief, Delhi is pretty frikking freezing here at the moment. Colder than Joburg I would venture to say. There was loads of dancing and Murray and Nic treated us all to an ambitious rendition of Impi. By the time the last stragglers left in the wee hours of the morning the booze had all been drunk, the kebabs were finished, the heaters were running low on gas and there was a general dirty stickiness all over the dancefloor. The sign of a good party.