Where’s Santa?…Not “In the Maldives”.

Winding down from all my exertions has made me appreciate the finer things in life. Namely, how I’m lucky to miss all of the Christmas hype in England. Don’t get me wrong, I like a bit of stuffed turkey and watching the Queen, but I do find Christmas advertising very sickening. No, I won’t buy your washing machine because you have put tinsel on it. The way I would tell if it was Christmas in England was when the Christmas Argos catalogue would arrive. Thankfully it hadn’t come in October before I left as it did last year.


Is this offensive in England as well as here?

I have never been abroad at this time of year, let alone abroad somewhere where there is no trace of Christmas at all. Sunny beaches and curry is what I’ve been used to for the last two months and there has been no room for mulled wine and mince pies. I’ve received a few festive treats in a care package sent by my mother (thanks, mum) along with lots of biscuits. I’ll be getting ready for Christmas by eating lots of rich biscuits and watching videos on my laptop, again, cheers mum for the calories.

Obviously there isn’t much in the way of Jack Frost Fever here in Addu, but I have been spreading the Christmas cheer by leaving my mark in the area. Every day I go into the shop opposite my house to buy my chocolate milk. Every day without fail. This has earned me the nickname, “Best Customer” , which is pronounced more like: “Bestah Customah”. Whenever I leave my house “Bestah Customah” rings out from the gates opposite and I reckons its actually a very good marketing ploy so that I feel indebted to continue my purchase of chocolate milk. As of late, however, I have been disappointed as my brand of choice, Daily Milk, has been off the shelves and I have had to make do with “Indomilk”. Eurgh.  Either way, I am the best. I have rewarded this recognition by presenting the shop owner with a selfie portrait of myself so that every other customer can realize how they are in fact not the best, as I am.

In some ways, I suspect this Christmas will actually turn out to be one of the more meaningful one, mainly because it will coincide with my return home after this time away. I am due to fly back to the UK on Christmas Eve, a situation which might actually become a very entertaining blog post should I be delayed en route. I promise that if that happens, I will make friends on the plane and not sob into my in-flight meal.



Yeah, she knows


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