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Having enjoyed two and a half years of summer (migrating between London and Sydney every six months), being back in Europe in the middle of winter is a bit of a shock to the system – to say the least. That painful chill that travels deep into your bones and tricks your body into believing it is the reincarnate of a rheumatoid 80 year old, and the tightness of the skin that would make Joan Rivers look naturally taut. Someone remind me: what is so glamourous about Paris again? But, there are some little things that cold weather affords that particularly excite me, which perhaps if you live in colder climes you may take for granted…

… heated floors

… ear muffs

… smoking the cold air

…guiltlessly consuming endless cups of hot chocolate