Across the pond

In Gospel Oak, which I now realise, Christmas is a doddle. I can take the bus to Oxford Street or take the car to Brent Cross and get everything I need. In the Dorset countryside it is not so simple. I thought I would get everything I needed at the last minute in Lyme Regis, a few minutes drive away. So I have failed to get the Dubonnet. They did not have any, mainly because most of the shops have been converted into souvenir shops. But at least I enjoyed listening to the town band playing Christmas carols which is a distinct improvement on the recorded stuff blaring through the loud speakers at Brent Cross. And I paused to sit on a bench and watch and listen to the sea and admired the view of Golden Cap.

Not wanting to be defeated I zoomed off in the late afternoon to Bridport and found a Threshers. But no Dubonnet. Only the Queen drinks Dubonnet these days, the shopkeeper informed me. Whereas I am now in the heart of Prince Charles country, within a stone’s throw of Poundbury and River Cottage, where the fix is organic fruit juices and Hugh Fearnley Whithenstall’s superior yogurt. So we will have to make do with tonic to blend with the gin.

There are many compensations, however. We could have had one of the turkeys Rosie Boycott rears on her farm, where she now lives the pure life after having survived her rebellious youth. Instead we decided to get our turkey from the local butcher in Charmouth to encourage him to stay in business. Charmouth has a minute population compared to Hampstead whose sole remaining butcher has just closed down despite a protest movement from the not un-influential inhabitants.

Writing this now the wind is getting up. I can hear the noise of the waves and am reminded that King Canute had to acknowledge that his own power was puny by comparison. Likewise, even the Hampstead chattering classes are powerless to halt the onward march of he supermarkets.

But that does not stop them trying. So I am passing on here my favourite Christmas card, from Kipper Williams, one of my London neighbours and also a Guardian cartoonist. They may be losing but they have not lost their sense of humour.

Happy Christmas all.