Fa la la la la, la la la laaaaaa (Penny)

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A band of elves attacked Manhattan overnight, banishing the Halloween skulls and sweeping up the last of the black-cat fur. The pungent scent of rotting pumpkins has been replaced with spruce and pine, hot mulled cider, cinnamon and gingerbread. I love Christmas in America!

The entire city has a village-like feel. Under the glow of fairylight strings, live Christmas trees preened to perfection are pawned on every street corner. Stumbling home late one night in minus temperatures, Dave and I discovered a magical scene: the Christmas tree delivery truck was making its rounds, glowing like a beacon through the mist as burly men threw armloads of pine-needles and lumber to the street below.

European-style Christmas markets have sprung up around the city. Nothing beats warming your hands around a steaming cup of gourmet hot chocolate as you weave through sparkling Christmas-themed stalls touting artisan goodies, designer jewellery, wooly-warm accessories and fresh-baked cookies. Sunny blue skies, frosty

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