Sounds of horse drawn sleighs clopping by, softened by the cold white padding. Midday lanterns standing guard, resting till dusk, while an out of time telephone booth awaits the next adventurer. I am here. I open the glass door in amazement, seeing the long forgotten beauty of quietly drifted snow. I step into the cobbled street and find a lively pub for a hot cup of tea. Celebrating an old English Christmas this year.