In transit

Gravity, velocity, and the ground; stopping is going to cost a fortune and the only acceptable currency is pain

More great weather. No presents. Fabulous. Claire, Angus, and I all tumble at some point - unhurt.

Different boots, several slices of silicon, and a sprinkling of paracetamol make skiing pain-free. A packed lunch of cheese and salami baguettes, eaten in glorious sunshine at the top of a mountain, are infinitely more enjoyable than the extortionate cuisine of the ski restaurants.

In early afternoon, on the way back from Courchevel and Méribel, Megan and I leave Claire and Angus dozing in the sun. We race up and down Stade and Peclet as the day draws to a close.

Turkey and all the trimmings for dinner. Stuffing, sprouts, carrots, and cheesy leeks. Crackers. Christmas cake and chocolate log. And then, to top it all, Baby Driver.