Fancy London?

‘It’s mayhem here around Christmas,’ smiles manager Michael Gale. His butcher’s shop, Allens of Mayfair, is slap bang in the middle of – indeed – Mayfair, where the cars are chauffeured, the shops are unaffordable and the women cosmetically pretty. Every winter the ceiling of this tiny butcher’s, with its listed tiles on the walls, is covered to within an inch of its life with turkeys. Allens will get through eight thousand of them during the holidays (‘Our Christmas season starts in November, ’ Michael explains, when the Americans from around the corner celebrate Thanksgiving.’) and they are all aged hanging from the ceiling. One look inside the shop and the craftsmanship, care and love that Allen’s puts in its products becomes instantly clear. ‘The beauty is, that with us, you can just walk in off the street, look up and handpick the turkey that’s just right for your Christmas celebrations. That’s unique in London.’ In the holiday season you will see Michelin starred chefs, American embassy workers and neighbours, all queuing up in a nice orderly line, waiting with a patience that only the English seem to possess. Queuing for you turkey? It only adds to the joy of Christmas.

Michael's worked at Allen's for many years
Pic by Bonnita Postma

No nation is looking forward to Christmas as much as the English. Traditions are being dusted off, Christmas trees, houses and whole streets are covered in tinsel and baubles, and the whole of December, in pubs around the country, another round is being hauled in ‘because it’s Christmas time’. Restaurants are filled with groups of friends and colleagues sat at long tables for their annual Christmas party, drinking champagne, eating a set menu and – it’s a silly sight – wearing a paper hat. The hat stays on, all night long. It’s Christmas after all.

Drink a lot: Clouds Lounge, Bangkok

As a city, Bangkok is a bit like Marmite, Brussels sprouts or capers: either you love it or you hate it. I happen to love Bangkok in all its two-faced glory. Poor against rich, glittery golden temples full of colour, incense and people against gleamy designer apartment buildings where nobody seems to be living. A pint of beer for a pound, or a cocktail for twelve quid - it's all to be had within a single taxi ride that shouldn't cost you more than a journey with your Oyster card.

(That overpriced cocktail mentioned above is courtesy of Sky Bar, atop the State Tower. It's mentioned in every guidebook so should be easy to find. What no guidebook seems to capture, however, is its amazingness. You'll find yourself sixty-four floors up in the air, yet outside, with a Hollywood staircase to end all staircases. You'll be oohing and aahing over the view, fighting rubbery legs and feeling, well, on top of the world. Go there! And then go on to Clouds Lounge, like we did.)