I am just on the way home from visiting my grandma. She lives on the other side of london to us, and it takes a good two hours to reach her, so I rarely make this trip. Yet, as Dominik pushes me through the dark of this vast metropolis, I reflect on the fact that I just sat at the table I first sat at thirty years ago, and that the old family house has barely changed. It makes me feel warm, visiting that place we so often visited during my childhood. A place of toys and chocolate, of visiting selfridges Father Christmas, and of the unconditional love of grandparents. And suddenly it feels like Christmas.