At most, I find the holiday a minor inconvenience - when I'm forced to irritably spend my money on people-who-aren't-me, and roll my eyes at a circus of "Festive Menus" while shouting "WARM alcohol? CHEAP meat? ABSOLUTELY NOT!"
Yeah, send me three spirits (and make them vodka, gin, and absinthe, please!) before my poor soul gets confined to eternal Dickensian damnation.
In order to over-turn this fatal descent into Grinching - this year, we decided to spend this Noel in New York: If the land of Home Alone 2 and Miracle on 34th Street can't change my mind about Christmas? Nowhere can!
At least I think those are the lyrics of Sinatra's song?
Christmas Eve was spent at the Rockefeller Center; it was alive with Christmas trees, sculptured angels, and dizzy ice-skaters: definitely an un-Scroogeing experience. Taking the lift to the top, we got to see the entirety of Manhattan, from a frosty Central park to a glacial Empire State:
Everyone says that if you're in NYC for the festive period, you MUST see The Rockettes at Radio City Music Hall. And for once? Everyone is right!
The following days involved endless Irish bars, and indulging in American Sports - from Wrestling at Madison Square Garden (I was just one cider away from propositioning Roman Reigns) to watching Ice Hockey in Brooklyn.
A visit to The MoMA promised a viewing of my second favourite painting in all of the world: Starry Night. I also got to see 15,000 troglodytic tourists hogging the space around it, which was equally as masterful and chaotic.
We took the subway all the way down to Battery Park, naively thinking we would get the Ferry over to Staten Island and glare at the Statue of Liberty for a bit. Alas, we walked out of the underground warmth into the windy, raw, chilling abyss of lower Manhattan - glanced Lady Liberty 2kms away... then ran, screaming back into the warmth of the subway. The acclaimed symbol of democracy and immigration will have to wait until its at least 25 Celsius and sunny, soz!