It was my wife’s idea: to escape Christmas by going someplace they don’t have it. She found cheap flights and whipped up sufficient enthusiasm among our three sons to persuade them to pay for their flights. We’d all spend Christmas together, in Morocco.
The only thing guaranteed to make me feel more anxious than Christmas itself is travelling at Christmas, but everything has been organised by my wife well in advance. I begin to relax by thinking of all the yuletide stuff I would not have to deal with.
