Thank heavens Father Christmas found his way to the wonderful island of Nevis and delivered bulging stockings to all.  Bob and I had to go up to Villa Calypso to receive ours, FC obviously couldn’t land because of the swell.  After a whistle stop tour down to each tippy toe, the Princesses, Bob and I plus Alex leapt in the car to go to Saint Thomas church, the oldest on the island, for the 10am service.  Unfortunately, or as it turned out fortunately, the service was already well under way and the rector had just reached the tail end of his sermon.  The service had already been going since 9:15am and was not due to finish until 11am.  It was the most enjoyable, dignified, glorious, joyful service that we had ever been to in our lives.  High church, incense, sung responses, hymns every time there was a lull in the proceedings including a Caribbean hymn, a hymn sung to Just One Cornetto.  For the Lords Prayer the whole congregation held hands, us included, and raised them to the roof for the Glory to the Father.  The sharing of the Peace was like a cocktail party as everyone milled around the church sharing hugs and handshakes with absolutely everyone else, us included.  All the visitors were invited to stand up, one representative at a time, and introduce their families followed by a loud round of applause.  As we went up for Communion, I turned my head to see, framed in the wide open door, the blue, blue sea and a yacht bobbling along under a blue, blue sky.  Alex was so well behaved that he fully deserved his stocking from FC.  Even his applause at the end of the hymns seemed just right.  All was right with the world as we celebrated Jesus’ birthday.

We returned to the Villa and ripped open pressies in a total frenzy.  A tsunami of wrapping paper built up to a great height, including the kitchen foil that Francesca had had to use when her purple Baba paper had run out.  Pop gave each of us an item of Christmas clothing.  Bob had a fetching red polo shirt with added reindeer, the children snowman t-shirts, some of the girls decorated flip flops and others fur trimmed wraps.  Francesca furnished us all with colourful sun glasses so we were all set up and suitably attired for our Caribbean Christmas.

We had a bbq lunch, without a bbq, because the one provided was minging, and then headed for the beach where there ensued a hard fought sand castle competition.  Bob got bored, and hates sand, so abandoned the 5 olympic rings with representative sports in each ring.  Pop and Francesca created a magnificent Christmas tree complete with seaweed tinsel, baubles of shells and strange sea eggs plus gifts.  Dolley and Katie created a snow woman on holiday with fetching shell bikini.  Alex and Avery “helped” out where they could.  The two very kind American ladies who were inveigled into being judges to ensure complete independence, awarded the prize with much tactful introduction, the turkey wishbone, to the Christmas tree.  Time had sped by and it was time to put in the turkey so the Christmas cooks and Bob headed back to the Villa.  Bob tried washing up lunch but the sink was blocked which was minging.  Bob, the hero, unblocked it.  Hooray.

Pop and Francesca cooked the full works: turkey, the sprouts brought over and declared most honestly by Katie, roast spuds, pigs in blankets, cranberry sauce and bread sauce.  I simply peeled a few spuds!  Christmas dinner was laid out on the veranda where we gathered together, pulled our crackers and spent a merry mealtime finished off with Harrods Christmas puddings and brandy sauce.  We were all absolutely stuffed and as Bob started nodding off it was time to return to Windy and snore the night away, and Bob most certainly snored.

What a fabulous way to spend Christmas.