A Christmas Tale

So the the most “magical time of the year” is here and - somewhat uncharacteristically - I’m spending it in London watching the Queen’s speech and Eastenders omnibus as opposed to exploring India as planned. Don’t get me wrong, I love London (see yesterday’s rant) but in my mind “a stay-cation is no way to vacation”.

I had desperately wanted to join my friends Elle and Murray in their India sojourn but alas, my bank balance refused to play ball.

The upshot? I’ve found myself staying put in the capital during the holiday season – and much to my amazement - having a tremendous time.

Having spent 2014 running around the world like a demented chicken permanently required to ‘be on’, I’ve relished ‘drawing up the bridge’ (so to speak) and spending time slumped solo on the sofa in my PJs alternating between watching a (hitherto unopened) box set, reading that book that’s been sitting on my bedside table since last Crimbo and making trips to the kitchen for yet more Prosecco and Panettone (tis the season of indulgence after all…).

And when I have made it out of my front door, I’ve found that London is quite literally mine for the taking. I’ve been able to explore places - Peckham anyone? -  that I never normally have the time to visit. I’ve been able to catch up on exhibitions that I meant to see and eat out at restaurants that it’s normally impossible to get a reservation at - here’s looking at The Palomar, Gymkhana, Chiltern Firehouse et al - because everyone else has left London.

I can’t promise that Christmas in the capital will become a new tradition but, nonetheless, I’ve learnt that holidays don't always have to be about far flung travel…