A non-Christmas at home

I’m used to a city that goes completely silent for Christmas – have become used to that after just two years. There’s something thrilling about knowing that, right after the craze of office parties and the great tinsel floods (and before the insanity of the Boxing Day sales) there is an eye of the storm where everything, everything, is closed. 

So it’s a time for walking, under mostly iron-grey skies and in miserable weather; it’s a time when the streets are a lot quieter than the parks and gardens which haven’t got gates. Dogs and children need walking, no matter what day it is. The hills ring with laughter, and the malls are deathly silent, and even the public transport is not working… 

Of course, Singapore doesn’t have that tradition. Trying to find a really quiet place is probably impossible in this insane hive, but one can try – it’s the places where people live, strangely, that are the calmest. No one is where they live, it seems; we are all where we buy, or work to earn the means to buy, or watch with a mind to buying. Is that wrong? Well, I suppose it’s normal


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