Dec 23
How sad it was to hear of Chris Rea’s untimely passing yesterday. His Driving Home For Christmas song is one of my all time favourite’s this time of year, and after years of living away from home it has long captured the Christmas spirit for me.
Rea was a huge Middlesbrough fan, and the Gone Fishing Christmas special with fellow Boro fan Bob Mortimer and Paul Whitehouse has to be worth another watch over the next week.
Please click for moreMy son arrived last night to spend Christmas with us. I don’t think he believed me when I told him the Charlton score!
It’s his first time to our house in Florida and we’re excited to have him here, in fact it’s his first time in America since he visited us in Chicago in 2007.
Please click for moreI am in Bermuda this week. A catalogue of meetings interspersed by Christmas drinks, or the other way around, I’m not sure.
The Bermuda weather is about 10 degrees warmer here than it is in Sarasota, but still as humid as ever.
Please click for moreThe sun peeped from behind the grey clouds yesterday in Eastbourne, known as the Sunshine Coast due to an over 100-year record of the town having the most sunshine hours in a month ever recorded.
It almost required sunglasses for the five minutes the sun made an appearance as we walked around the Meads end of the town.
Please click for moreWe are back in the UK for Christmas scurrying around the country to see family which will be great for my holly-jolly-other-half and my feverish daughter as this is their first trip home since before the pandemic.
We flew overnight Thursday landing yesterday at a grey but not cold Heathrow, and last night and for most of today we are up in Knightsbridge way immersing ourselves in the Christmas season.
Please click for moreI’ve not left this little isle since February. The family since last December. 21 miles long, and a 1.75 miles wide at it’s very widest point can seem very, very small.
Yet, as I told the story the other day during the summer and into the early winter months you’d question yourself why you’d ever leave the beauty and reasonable normality of Bermuda during a global pandemic. Why throw yourself to the sharks, when we can swim with the parrot fish!
Happy Christmas to you all.
We have spent many more years on the island than off it on Christmas Day and I don’t ever remember the weather being anything but clear, sunny and relatively warm. Yet this morning the weather outside is frightful, rain is crashing against the windows and the wind is howling. So, I’ve got the wood fire going, which is of course, quite delightful.
Travelling around the U.S. at Christmas time is always fraught with obstacles, and sure enough our attempt to fly back from Atlanta via two other places, when we could have gone direct to Bermuda has failed us. Wasn’t my idea is all I’m saying. So an overnight stop in freezing cold Philadelphia at a nasty airport hotel means we won’t get home until late on Christmas Eve with hardly any food in the fridge and nothing wrapped etc..
Little old Charlton appear to have a new fan. Sky Sports today announced that three more of our games will be live on the box. The Hull home game has moved back from Saturday, December 14th to the Friday night, three days after we play Huddersfield.
Then over Christmas and New Year Sky have chosen the Derby and Swansea away games to show as well. This well and truly mucks around with Addicks plans if they were intending on going, and will I am sure damage travelling numbers which have been magnificent so far this season.
Merry Christmas to you all.
I trust you are getting stuck into some smoked salmon and scrambled eggs and climbing over wrapping paper and not reading this first thing on Christmas morning.
I’m spending Christmas at home this year, just the three of us, although I think Santa may have possibly delivered next door and the door after’s presents down our chimney as well. We could be unwrapping for a while.
Well the early flight actually. Our traditional pre-Christmas trip to Buckhead in Georgia starts today. Our 7th year in a row for festive fun.
There will be the normal afternoon tea date with Mr & Mrs Claus, that joyous fairytale is still rolling in our house thankfully, helped in no small way by our annual meet up with the Claus’. We will also do the Atlanta Botanical Garden Lights with it’s two million twinkly lights. S’mores and mulled wine will accompany us on our walk around it’s dazzling 30 acres.
I was woken by a big storm during the night, our garden furniture took a bit of a battering as the wind howled around outside, but what I was unaware of, was that Santa Claus had reappeared bringing more gifts.
“Katrien Meire has decided to stand down from her roles as CEO and Director of Charlton Athletic and will leave the club at the end of the month.” (more)
Other than being 23 degrees celsius, Christmas Eve in Bermuda mirrors Christmas in the UK for most people on the island.
Tonight we have spent some time convincing my daughter to go to bed, wrapped more presents than is necessary, ran out of tape, crammed enough food for a small African nation into the fridge, toyed with preparing the vegetables, fussed over the frozen turkey, drunk wine, ate cheese, baked cookies for Santa, left a carrot out which I must remember to bite later, convinced my chorister-other-half not to go to evening mass but instead listen to Now That’s What I Call Christmas on repeat, sat down with a box of Heroes with It’s A Wonderful Life on, cracked nuts once I found the nut cracker and not the two that sit aside our fireplace that I spent hours cleaning this morning on my daughter’s wishes so Santa wouldn’t get his bottom dirty when he came down the chimney.
All with my parents for company, which is lovely.
Get to bed early, sleep tight and a very Merry Christmas to you and your families.
We’ve been coming to Buckhead for six December’s in a row. Buckhead is an affluent area of Atlanta, which when the lights are on, is an easy direct flight from Bermuda. Probably not the first place that conjours Christmas frippery, but over the years we have found plenty of festive family fun stuff to keep us busy for a couple of days as well as providing an opportunity for some last minute shopping.
A few weeks ago we decided to forego an expensive and inevitably frenetic trip home to London and then onto the other half’s sister’s new abode in France. It was a tough decision but work was looking like I wouldn’t be able to be away for a prolonged time and the more we procrastinated, the more bloody expensive the flights got. Thus in the end we made the tough decision not to go home and see our families. We will do a big summer trip instead.
Then we were left with the choice of staying in Bermuda, which would have been fine if a little toasty, 23c on Christmas Day, or making a short trip somewhere else.
Those that read me religiously (thanks Mum) will know we have spent many a weekend in Buckhead over the years, a nice little area north of Atlanta in Georgia. We looked at flights, they were a good price, booked the hotel we always stay at, which is always very Chrismassy (photo), and we flew in last night. And head back to Bermuda on Tuesday.
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As expected my body forced me awake early this morning, but it was nice to be back in my own Bermuda bed after a great Christmas at home with our families.
However the imperturbable other half will tell you, my disposition driving anti-clockwise around the M25 from Heathrow to pick my son up on the day we arrived was not particularly festive. Anyway a better journey under the now toll-less Dartford Tunnel to an old mate’s house in St Albans to be met with chili and lot’s of red wine did the trick, and despite a hangover the drive to Oxfordshire on Christmas Eve via Henley had me ready for Santa.
I was on the nice list, which was a pleasant surprise, as was my daughter, which was less of a surprise, and my other half’s family were in great spirits and we had a wonderful couple of days with them before we left early on Boxing Day to drive into London to my brother’s. My parents were already in situ as was my sister in law’s family and we had another very lovely day, rare days of us all being together that should be cherished.
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Our day began in a shower of wrapping paper and smiles after the half eaten carrot on the kitchen table early this morning told our daughter all she needed to know.
Strong coffee to awaken tired eyes followed and the first Bloody Mary has just been shaken and I’m looking forward to a fun family day. My almost sister-in-law has 15 for lunch and I am currently working on an advance party to get to the pub to help build up an appetite.
Enjoy your day and I’d like to wish everyone of you and your families a very Merry Christmas.
We fly home to the UK tonight from Atlanta to spend Christmas with our families, which I am really excited about. Tomorrow after we land at Heathrow we have a bit of M25 navigating to do, first of all we have to nip around to Kent to pick my son up and then go back around the other way to friends in St Albans where we are going to spend tomorrow night.
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Christmas begins in the Chicago Addick family later today when we fly to Atlanta for what has become our little traditional festive jaunt. We base ourselves in Buckhead and will get out to see the awesome Botanical Gardens Christmas Lights and Stone Mountain Park as well as have tea with Santa and his missus. There will also be time for some last minute shopping and this year we have tickets for the Cirque Musica at Phillips Arena.
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Depending how you view this Blog, then you will see snow falling down the screen. That can only mean one thing.
Our tree is up, in fact we have two. We have about 1,500 lights flickering around the house making sure that the local Bermuda electric company make their Q4 earnings and wherever I wonder around the house Christmas tunes can be heard, as well as in the car. The Elf on the shelf appears every night in a different place, sometimes in different outfits. You don’t know what the Elf on the shelf is? Then good for you.
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Happy Thanksgiving to my American friends.
Whereas using pumpkin in every recipe and sending your kids out onto the cold streets dressed as ghosts on October 31st and tomorrow queuing to get into Bluewater to buy a £100 telly has gleefully been embodied by Brits, sadly having a day off work, eating like you are never going to see food again, getting drunk with family and friends and watching football on television all day on the last Thursday of every November has not.
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After a 1st half where the Addicks showed all the Boxing Day spirit of an empty stocking, the 2nd they shimmered like a star on top of the tree.
Sadly once again we very slow out of the blocks and 0-1 down before we’d even broken sweat. Bob had changed it, and left out youngsters Pope and Fox, hopefully with some good man-management skills, but it was hard to argue against the change.
Gomez played left back, Johnnie Jackson returned from injury to take his place in central midfield and it was George’s turn to start up top as Igor began on the bench. No place for the perennial bench warmers Wilson or Bulot.
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We arrived home from our Christmas excursion in Atlanta this afternoon and since putting the little ‘un to bed we have followed the same pattern as every other parent in the world and wrapped presents, sipped wine and argued over who will neck the majority of a glass of port and leave crumbs from a deliciously flakey mince pie!
This is the first Christmas we have spent in Bermuda for 5 years and now we are at home and unpacked I am very much looking forward to our own bed and not having to live out of a suitcase for a week, even though tomorrow I know we’ll have a moment when we’ll have a yearning to be with family.
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Feeling a little bit Christmas partied out this morning. Some people may call it a hangover.
Partying Work does come to an end tomorrow afternoon as the family head to Atlanta for a few days to have what has become traditional our pre-Christmas weekend, although we are later than in recent years.
Atlanta is a strange place. No boundaries, no oceans, no mountains so it just grows and grows, meaning sadly it lacks a real heart, but we stay in Buckhead which is a little pocket of refined and cultured (a little like me last night) and stay at the fantastic St Regis. So fantastic that Santa Claus comes to visit you, for a small fee of course.
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At least it is in the Chicago Addick household. Today we emptied umpteen boxes of Christmas decorations and started the long but merry process of putting them all up.
The music is on, my daughter has had a Rudolph flashing nose stuck to her face all day and the smell of mince pies is coming from the kitchen, and yes I know it’s only November!
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A very Merry Christmas to you all. We have had the Christmas songs album on in the car for at least the last 5 weeks and I now know how it feels to work in a shop over the Christmas period. Even so, there are some Christmas jingles that never fail to have me singing away to them, even though they are on repeat.
It got me thinking and I thought in the spirit of my 2013 Top 5’s that I would list my favourites, so here they are, my Top 5 Favourite Christmas songs. What are yours?
1. East 17 – Stay Another Day
This is the ultimate classic ballad that still has people of a certain age shouting out “East 17”, even though no one liked them at the time except for teenage school girls. The song is supposed to be written in memory of frontman Tony Mortimer’s brother who had committed suicide.
We’re flying home tonight for Christmas. This year we have cut back on our tour around people’s houses as I don’t think us and our copious suitcases are always as welcome as we think! Whilst friends are going back to work, there we are showing up on the doorstep still spouting Christmas guff and waggling wine and cakes in people’s faces. It’s a difficult balance when you are always the visitor and never the host.
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We are taking what has become our annual weekend trip to Atlanta later today.
Tea with Santa, the Atlanta Christmas parade, a puppet show, the Christmas lights at the Atlanta Botanical Gardens, the Aquarium and some Christmas shopping if we can fit it in are all on the agenda.
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Happy Thanksgiving to all of my American readers and buddies who will spend today throwing the Buds back and eating copious amount of deep-fried turkey, all while sat on their butts watching sport all day long on the television. And some people say they are stupid!
I became quite enamoured by this little pre-Christmas ritual when I lived in the States and have in the past couple of years followed suit and taken the time off from work to mostly drink, eat and watch telly! When I was a kid, harvest festival was all about giving, but hey, I’ll go with the Land of the Free’s definition.
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There we have it, the last of my 12 Days of Christmas with us now back where we started at Gatwick Airport ready for our flight back to Bermuda this afternoon, which we will be boarding at around half time of the match at Vicarage Road.
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After 10 days of burdening friends with a car full of suitcases and overstuffed bags, 2 kids, my insatiable appetite for cold turkey and pickle sandwiches and a thirst for red wine we decided to spend our last night of our Christmas trip in a hotel and have booked ourselves into the very lovely Coworth Park in Ascot.
Whilst 2012 was a year to be proud of being British (and a Charlton fan), 2013 will mark for me 10-years of being away from the country.
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From East Sussex to the The Royal County of Berkshire today to see two really old friends of mine. Really looking forward to seeing them and another change of scene (and bed) before we head back to Bermuda on New Years Day.
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Back in the car and driving down to the East Sussex countryside this morning to see my parents, who live in the tiny village of Wannock which sits in the shadows of the South Downs.
Wannock is mentioned in the Domesday Book but is a sleepy little place that sadly lacks a pub, although there are plenty in neighbouring Polegate and better ones in nearby Jevington and Willingdon. My old man no doubt will be ready and waiting with the corkscrew and a hardy bottle of Syrah as well as Soccer Saturday on the box so the family of Addicks can follow Charlton’s fortunes at The Valley this afternoon, a game I was hoping to get to, but was outwitted by our Christmas scheduling.
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As expected we spent a good part of the day in Victoria Park. Breakfast was at The Pavilion cafe, which was pretty awesome and set us all up, including a 11-week old puppy and a 3-year old human, for a gigantic walk around the park.
Off to see my brother and his fiancé today. They have just bought a house close to Victoria Park in East London. I love that area of London with it’s quiet residential streets and ornate Victorian houses and the magnetism of the wide open spaces of Vicky Park around the corner.
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I was drowning my sorrows in the Red Lion, the village pub today. Actually I started before the game. I do like to plan ahead!
The day after Christmas for us was spent in the Oxfordshire village my countryfied-other-half was born in, Brightwell-cum-Sotwell, and her sister still lives in (pop: 1,530). A big walk this morning with various dogs and kids and then to the pub, which is under new management.
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Merry Christmas to you and your loved ones. This photo is of a footpath near my jolly-other-half’s brother and his families home in the village of Crowmarsh Gifford in South Oxfordshire. This is where I will be royally fed and watered later today.
Before then I will see what Santa has brought me, but more importantly watch the smile on the faces of three people that I adore more than anything in this world. I hope you get everything that you wish for today. Happy Christmas.
Christmas Eve, my favourite day of the year.
A quick fly around Wallingford this morning, which retains its charm even in the rain. A couple of last minute purchases, a coffee and a mince pie and then back to my illegitimate brother and sister-in-laws for a family party.
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A proper lie in was followed today by a visit to Millets Farm to grab lunch and go ice skating. Fortunately for me the skating rink was fully booked up!
Then this afternoon I managed to convince my other half’s family to help me satisfy one of my life-long ambitions, well for as long as I have been coming up to this part of the Chiltern Hills’ countryside anyway.
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Spent the early part of our day at Gatwick Airport, giving myself a shot in the arm with a large dose of caffeine at Costa Coffee in readiness for today’s drive that will take us to Kings Hill in Kent to gather my son and his suitcase of hair product and unmatched socks, he is almost a teenager after all, then back on the M25 in the other direction and the M40 to the Oxfordshire countryside.
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A snowman made out of sand. How imaginative. We’re leaving this all behind tonight as we head back to the UK for a Christmas of warm jumpers, mistletoe, camp beds, wrapping paper, Santa and the M25.
We fly to Gatwick tonight hoping the Mayans are wrong and that the pilot can land the plane in the morning. Then we will set off for our Christmas journey which I hope to pictorially post on during the next 12 days.
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We’ve been in Atlanta for a little Christmas appetiser since Friday evening and have been retracing our steps from a year ago, when we did the same trip.
Saturday morning we were at the Atlanta Christmas Parade, which was 90 minutes of large inflatables, local b-celebs, llamas, dressed up dogs, school marching bands, an insight into child obesity and Mr & Mrs Claus.
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One of the many things I miss about London is it’s parks. I spent a whole lot of my childhood playing in two parks near my home. Forster Memorial Park and Mountsfield Park, once home of course to the mighty Charlton Athletic. These last couple of days we have gratefully strolled the green pastures of London Fields, Haggerston Park and Hyde Park.
We were in Hyde Park, like almost everyone else was, browsing the Winter Wonderland, which has grown exponentially since last time I visited three years ago. We sniffed Mulled wine, squeezed onto a tea cup ride and counted more sausage stalls than you could shake a stick at but we also took the little ‘un to Zippo’s Circus.
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Merry Christmas to you and yours. Last night after we had crammed into the standing room only carol service at the tiny Mary Magdalene church in Crowmarsh, I had an enjoyable couple of pints of local brew River Crossing in the pub in this picture in the village of Brightwell-cum-Sotwell, although that photo was taken a year ago!
The Red Lion is a traditional 16th Century half timbered, thatched pub that almost burnt to the ground in 2001 but was rescued by brave local firemen and then rebuilt and is still rightly popular locally.
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Flying home tonight for Christmas. We will whip round to pick my son up in Kings Hill early morning after a strong cup of Costa Coffee then drive up to my other half’s sister in the Oxfordshire countryside.
Her brother is around the corner but we will base ourselves at my unofficial sister-in-law’s house, which will have a typically frantic festive feel to it and I’m really looking forward to it.
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A weekend in Atlanta is in store for me, the other half and little ‘un as we travel tomorrow afternoon from Bermuda to the furthest west a direct flight will take us. Flight time to Atlanta from here is 3 hrs, 35 mins.
For such a remote island, daily you can fly from Bermuda to New York, Miami, Atlanta, Boston, Philadelphia and Toronto in North America and these are added to in the summer months with a seasonal service to Baltimore, Halifax, Charlotte and Washington DC. Ten different airlines fly in and out of Bermuda including British Airways and the basket case that is becoming American Airlines.
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Christmas is already feeling like a distant memory but there were some great ones from our trip home, one in particular that I’d like to share was the Torchlit Parade we joined in on Christmas Eve.
The torchlit parade takes place every Christmas Eve between the Oxfordshire villages of Streatley and Goring. At dusk people walk downhill from both villages and cross the small bridge that crosses the tapered River Thames and then gather in a vast meadow with a huge bonfire to sing carols.
Seeing thousands of people holding hessian and wax torches was a wonderful visual, especially with the snow cover on the ground. My son loved it but tended to wave his torch around a bit like it was a sparkler and we did well to escape the parade without the Fire Brigade being called!
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The bloody years disappear fast don’t they? A year ago we could hardly stay awake to welcome in a new decade and in fact we had given up on seeing in the new year until the baby demanded a timely midnight feed.
This year has gone quick though. Our lives were busy before but with a 14-month old and with both of us working, couch potato time is practically zero.
I’m not a big New Year’s Eve fan, and am fortunate that (where allowed) I can go out on the other 364 nights of the year, so I have never fully understood the fuss tonight, nor the pressure or the cost that goes with it. Nonetheless I always find myself in a very reflective mood.
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As Christmas has come and officially gone (although I’m still wishing people ‘Happy Christmas’ because I don’t go back to work until the 4th) I have got increasingly pisseed off that the Brighton game is tomorrow night when 95% of the countries football matches were today. Why are we playing tomorrow? It’s not on the box. There wasn’t some world championship long jump event at the Withdean today was there?
Three times in the last couple of days I have passed within 750 metres of the Withdean, but tomorrow night at kick off I will be tucking into a scrumptious indian take away at my brother’s in Shoreditch.
Yes I know, bad planning on my part and not for the first time this season either.
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This is Wallingford in Oxfordshire, where we are spending today with my other half’s family. Wherever you are, I hope you have a wonderful Christmas. Eat, drink and be merry.
Photograph copyright: Carole-*
Well hopefully. I have a worst travel record than the captain of The Titanic. BA managed to get the Bermuda flight into Gatwick this morning, a feat I hope it can repeat on Wednesday night.
Once landed on Thursday morning we will drive the relative hop into Kent to pick up my son, that’s if two junctions along the M25 can be considered a hop? We then travel up into Oxfordshire to decamp at my defacto sister-in-law’s until Boxing Day. Snow is expected in the Wallingford area, which is where all my other half’s family (within a 5 mile radius) live.
I have always loved Christmas Eve. Whether it was standing on tip-toes on my parents landing for hours looking up into the sky to spot Santa before being forced to bed, or out drinking with my mates, or wrapping presents for kids, it has always held an real sense of excitement for me.
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Do people still have massive company Christmas parties? I remember donkeys years ago when I was in London working for the same company I do now, although probably a takeover or merger removed, we used to host huge outside tented Christmas ‘do’s’ at great expense at locations like Spitalfields or themed inside ones at places such as The Brewery at Chiswell Street. Bloody brilliant they were. Do companies in London still do that?
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I have my annual bout of man flu contracted from a severe lack of sleep and staring into the bottom of too many empty glasses. Despite me eulogising the virtues of the Bermudian weather last week, it has got decidedly chilly and the temperature is expected to bottom out at below 50 (10°C) at the weekend.
Contributing to my sorry condition was this last weekend in New York, where the winter has truly settled and I did myself no favours by getting wrapped up in a humungous night out on Thursday. My daughter must have been very proud of me as she crawled around the hotel room bathroom while I clung, sweating, onto the toilet seat Friday morning. Added to this, work has finally taken off again, after too long of a quiet spell.
My punishment Friday was lining up in Macy’s waiting to see Santa Claus. I couldn’t look him in the eye when he asked me if I’d been good but he was kind enough to let me sit on his knee.
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Ft. Lauderdale, Florida
