It turned out to be far from a well-kept secret as every single
twenty-something in London was already there.
Every one of them was taller than me, but I just about managed to keep
my feet on the ground in the good-natured jostle, just hoping that none of the
high notes started a stampede. Nigel
didn’t mind at all, as several of the young lovelies complimented him on his ‘beautiful
voice’. Pah!
On the way back from carols we got caught by train
cancellations. We spent an hour at Farringdon with nothing to sustain us except
a massive chocolate advent calendar Nigel was given at work. We managed to call a halt at day six.
When we finally got on the train it was packed and a
previous passenger had vomited. Then another drunk bloke skidded in it and fell
over. Twice.
Explaining to a horrified onlooker, his mates said that it
wasn't him who had been sick. 'It's legacy vomit'.
Nigel and I agreed that these might very well be scenes from
a typical British Christmas. So why on
earth had they been left out of the final cut of Love Actually? There’s simply no explanation.
Thanks to Carenza for the pics
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