Christmas has disappeared; all that pizazz and cheeriness and homespun philosophy about the magic of a greater being are behind us. It is like one of these very important dreams that you have and you carry it around for days and it seems so real,then one day it has just disappeared from your consciousness as if it was never there. Such is the ephemeral nature of life.
The outreaching tendrils of Christmas are being felt as we pass the landmark of Guy Fawkes. Stepping out of Selfridge’s on the evening of the fifth from our rooftop dining at Le Chalet we thought we were in a parallel Guy Fawkes as police vans filled with gun wielding officers dashed past us blue lights flashing. Was this another Gun Powder Plot? No just a normal London evening.
