1. It’s all gone a bit Santa. I’m staying well away from Trafalgar Square at the moment as I do not wish to be pelted with sprouts. In fact there are far too many Santas around at the moment; on roller skates, covered in lights, in saucy bikinis. Enough now. And don’t keep shouting out ‘Do you want to see my sack?’
2. Absence of drones. The businessfolk who inhabit the Square Mile and Soho have already buggered off on extended hols, hitting the ski slopes, checking into rehab etc. The streets are eerily quiet, which means you can get a taxi.
3. Restaurants! Now that the Christmas parties are over and you no longer have to watch two middle-managers holding Kylie from PR’s hair out of the way while she sicks vodka and a prawn biriani into the gutter, you can suddenly get that table you wanted in that restaurant where the waiters laughed in your face when you politely tried to make a reservation just two months ago.
4. Death and weirdness! David Hoyle is on at the Soho Theatre being disgusting in a show called ‘Merrie Hell’ from the Jerry Springer co-writer, and the Wellcome has a lovely seasonal exhibition called, succinctly, ‘Death’. Come on, it can’t be any worse than Damien Hirst’s travesty at the Tate Modern earlier in the year. And there are plenty of other killjoy exhibitions and shows on at the moment, not to mention Priscilla Presley frightening tots at the Wimbledon panto.
5. Pubs! They’re all Christmassy and half-empty now that le tout Anglais have decided to decamp to Barbados in order to avoid bringing a smidgen of joy to their elderly relatives over Christmas. Admittedly there are a few hideous posh children up from Gloucester, but you can push them into ponds and under trains when no-one’s looking. Or you could shove them into taxis and tell the drivers to drop them off on the roughest council estate in Tower Hamlets. That’ll toughen them up faster than doing the Duke of Edinburgh Award.