It was unchanged, English, rural, muddy, quiet, pretty, remote, emotional and a little bleak. It took me approximately one minute and forty-five seconds to remember why I love living in London so much.
Today we are back home, the Christmas linen is on the table, the angel chimes are singing and I can hear someone playing Jingle Bells on her recorder. At 3pm this afternoon there is A Festival of Nine Lessons and Carols from Kings on Radio 4, which I shall listen to while I make the mince pies.
The Ghost of Christmas Present is a much more comfortable companion than the Ghost of Christmas Past.
Wishing you all a very Merry Christmas wherever you are.