I've probably worked more Christmas Days than not over the past twenty years, but this one does seem to have been more solitary than usual. I was up at 4.30, and in the car about 45 minutes later. As you might expect, the M1 wasn't busy, and nor was central London. During the morning I phoned my parents, and spoke to my nieces. Father Christmas had apparently come down the chimney, as evidenced by soot on the hearth! It sounded like chaos.
The shift went fine, and once I'd handed over to the afternoon person at about 2pm, I popped into the main newsroom to see my colleagues and partake of the Christmas lunch which had been provided -- which turned out to be a middle eastern meze.
I was back at the boat by 4pm, and I've done very little apart from cook, eat, and watch Strictly. I'm up again at 4.30 tomorrow morning, so it won't be long before I'm in bed.
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