I can't really remember the last time I 'properly' celebrated bonfire night. I must have been around 13 or 14 and instead of spectating the hundreds of pounds worth of fireworks being blown up in the air, we spent most of the evening stealing Becardi Breezers from the free bar at a friend's parents firework party. We googled firework displays and as expected they were either dead pricey or missions away. We made a flask of tea and headed towards the local park, which is situated on top of one of Sheffield's hills. We saw lots of firework displays within two hours as we were overlooking the whole of Hillsborough. It was lovely to look at all the explosive colours shooting against the sky, especially when my week had been swept away by a whirlwind of paranoia.
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