Light in the London winter
January 4th 2010 05:21
There’s no doubt about it. London winters are dismal. The temperatures drop to numbers that can be counted on a few fingers. The days are a brief span of gloomy grey light and night falls halfway through the afternoon. Yet, (at least for those who haven’t suffered through too many of them) winter is one of the city’s brightest and most cheerful seasons.
In late November or early December, borough by borough and with great celebration, the Christmas lights come on. So, for winter’s most dismal weeks, when the daylight disappears at 3.30pm, the streets light up with flashing neon.
Shop windows are full of cheery fireside scenes, rich and colourful Christmas fare or warm, bright winter clothes.
Christmas villages spring up; huddles of brightly lit miniature chalets selling hot chocolate, mulled wine, mince pies and sweets, woolly hats and gloves and a thousand and one sparkling, glittering little knick-knacks.
The ice rinks open. Alongside tent-bars unfold. The skaters come out – the experts and the amateurs, the after-schoolers and the after-workers. It's great sport. Outside, tottering on perilous blades with a pack of whirling maniacs, or inside teetering on a bar stool, with a cup of mulled wine, it's fun and it’s funny.
In late November or early December, borough by borough and with great celebration, the Christmas lights come on. So, for winter’s most dismal weeks, when the daylight disappears at 3.30pm, the streets light up with flashing neon.
Shop windows are full of cheery fireside scenes, rich and colourful Christmas fare or warm, bright winter clothes.
Christmas villages spring up; huddles of brightly lit miniature chalets selling hot chocolate, mulled wine, mince pies and sweets, woolly hats and gloves and a thousand and one sparkling, glittering little knick-knacks.
The ice rinks open. Alongside tent-bars unfold. The skaters come out – the experts and the amateurs, the after-schoolers and the after-workers. It's great sport. Outside, tottering on perilous blades with a pack of whirling maniacs, or inside teetering on a bar stool, with a cup of mulled wine, it's fun and it’s funny.
| 46 |
| Vote |

Comments (1)
Add Comments






