Paris at Christmas is much less exciting than London, provided that said excitement is measured in quantities of tinsel, kerbside Santas fragrant with cheap sherry and mindless, endless repetitions of Frosty the Snowman in the Oxford Street drizzle.
Paris is more restrained and street corners are not routinely bedecked with all manner of non-biodegradable material.Inside Galeries Lafayette, however, it’s quite another matter…
British Christmases were always rather jolly with turkey, mince pies, crackers which often failed to explode and paper hats which fell down over Uncle Dick’s nose as he slept off the excesses in front of the TV at three o’clock watching HM tell us how much she loved being Queen and so on.
Here, we’ll be doing things a little differently and making something special for Christmas Eve which will look a little bit like this. Nice.