Dreaming of a White Christmas

Dreaming of a White Christmas

Since experiencing a crisp, cold, snowy white Christmas in England a few years ago Christmas here in Australia just hasn’t been as magical as I remember as a child – the ‘special’ has dissipated and is now replaced by the romantic allure of the white Christmas season.

Since the countdown to Christmas 2013 has begun I have been dreaming of returning to England for the perfect Christmas . . .

The intoxicating scent of Mulled Cider bubbling gently at the bar, the toasty warm fireplaces in every pub, restaurant and home, the holly encrusted garlands lining stairwells and door frames (the REAL holly, might I add, not the plastic ‘keep away from children’ choking hazard type that us Aussies hang in our homes), people going about their day wearing toasty Christmas sweaters, beanies and gloves, the dusting of fine white snow on every house, tree and footpath as far as the eye can see, clusters of Christmas carolers patrolling the streets spreading cheer and of course my favourite, beautifully lit Christmas markets lining the high street selling home-made gingerbread houses, scarves and gloves knitted by the little old ladies from the local C.W.A. and that special feeling of the fairytale Christmas we see pictured on the Christmas cards we send to those we love each year.

Once you, as an Aussie, have experienced a Christmas like this, the stock standard 40 degree day in your bikini, sitting in a blow up kiddy pool with a beer in your hand, BBQ lunch and an afternoon nap just doesn’t cut it anymore. You’ve been spoiled by the romance and excitement of a ‘real’ Christmas that your crappy, sweaty, Australian version just isn’t exciting anymore.

Lets be honest, Australians as a country really don’t put that much effort into Christmas – we flood our shopping centres with tacky glitter tinsel and plastic trees in hot pink, blue or silver, blast Alvin & the Chipmunks Christmas Classics over the PA system and focus more on the Myer Boxing Day Sales than the Christmas season itself.

Its stressful, not romantic

Its lame, not magical

Its not about Family, its about getting the best Sale & having the biggest piss up


Christmas is ruined for me.

Take me back to England for the month of December ANY day.




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