It's so good not to be in the Uk for Christmas. We've got away from the junk and the pressure and the exorbitant expenditure to...a leisurely tour round the temples of Agrigento, courtesy of a local guide who is expert, enthusiastic, fluent in English and very witty. I wrote reams of notes, and by the end of the holiday realise that he's provided me with the material for seven sonnets. now that's what I call a Christmas present.
It doesn't stop there. We slog up the hill - a nasty, busy main road - to the hotel, where our leader Alf says "could you just come into the garden. I've something to show you." We follow him in, where he unveils from his rucksack two large bottles of Prosecco, and a dozen little plastic glasses. Astonished, we drink Christmas toasts in bright Mediterranean sunshine, while the UK is battered with floods and rain.