The sleigh-bells were ringin', carollers were singin' and the little Aussie 'orphans' of the OBR Posse (Old Brompton Road posse) were preparing for their first London Christmas. Mark, Matty, Nicole and I approached the 'holiday season' with a mixture of excitement and trepidation - we were looking forward to a traditional Christmas day with mulled wine, Yorkshire pudding, scarves and mittens, but were all very sad to be so far away from our families. 
Determined to do as the British do, and maintain a 'stiff upper lip' we organised a day of festivities including a 'family dinner' at the local Balans restaurant.
Christmas Eve we all finished work early and met at the Coldherne Pub next to the boys' place to kick off the Christmas cheer. What was to be one or two drinks typically turned into a few and by the time I had to leave for midnight mass at High Street Kensington I was certainly feeling merry.
Christmas day was always going to be weird, but I'm quite proud of how well I kept things together. My lovely family and friends had sent me a few parcels to open and I was so spoiled. My sister Emma wrote me the SWEETETST little poem that flung open the floodgate of tears for a moment. After a long phone call to my family in Australia it was time to head over to OBR for pre-lunch drinks.
We ended up having a really lovely lunch and a lot of fun - Mark bought me a really cool gift from the British Transport Museum of a cushion made out of the fabric used on the District Line tube in the 70's, so when I return home I can take a bit of the tube with me and Matty got me a gorgeous 100-year-old print of a building in Kensington.
After lunch and a few too many cocktails the rest of the crew decided to head to the Slug and Lettuce but I decided to call it a day and get ready for the shifts at the homeless shelter that were starting the next day.
1 comment:
Yeah that poem was the bomb diddly!
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