Hallelujah

Some years ago, we used to mark the beginning of Christmas in Dorset by the winter solstice. Before dawn broke on the 21st, we would all pile into the car, sleepy-eyed, and drive up to the ancient hill-fort of Badbury Rings to watch the sun come up. How did I persuade young children that this was a worthwhile exercise when they were only a couple of days into Christmas holiday lay-ins? Well, to tell the truth, they were never that keen on staying in bed when they could get up and watch Sound of Music for the millionth time. But to get them dressed and off with no breakfast?

There would be scores of folk at Badbury Rings, cold but not wretched. Once gathered, an ancient being would lead us up onto the circles. Sometimes, there would be dancing once up there, but the main idea was to overlook the old Deer Park and view daybreak. Ancient being would then regale us with superb stories of time past, tinged with folklore, ghosts and myths. Just for long enough that we didn't freeze and to whet our appetites. For what came next was a trip down to the estate of Kingston Lacey where a cooked breakfast to the accompaniment of carol singers awaited.

Once everyone had eaten as much as they could and drunk copious quantities of sweet tea, the Mummers would arrive to perform their play. There is only one Mummers' play regardless of the time of year. George and the dragon do battle, George is killed, the doctor arrives and brings him back to life and lastly, Father Christmas turns up. And that is why the children never complained. In any case, they could be back in doors by 10am. The ancient being died and I never understood why he didn't pass his tales on for that is the tradition of story-telling.

Latterly, I know Christmas has arrived when it's time to witness Handel's Messiah. Been going for years. Wouldn't miss it. The children are all grown up now. I took two of them to Messiah once but I don't think it agreed with them so now I go alone. I've noticed that a lot of people go alone to Messiah. The lady on my left tonight was alone as was the man on my right. It was the Bournemouth Symphony Orchestra with a 112 strong chorus and it was fabulous. Being a student, I had middle seat, fourth row for £4. I knew there would be a payback for the Cornish experience. And I know it's good when folk are wiping away the tears and sharing tales of raised hairs on the back of their necks having had nothing stronger than a tub of ginger flavoured New Forest ice-cream.