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A DELIGHTFUL weekend Somerset break organised by my wife to 'get us in the festive spirit'.

It worked. The misery I endured while being dragged round the Christmas market in Bath - pronounced 'Baaarth' - has stayed with me.

Hopefully, I won't have shaken it off by December 25.

I have many issues with Christmas markets, the main one being they are normal markets, selling normal market fare, apart from the tinsel, mulled wine and that bloody awful Band Aid single over the sound system.

Baaarth was no different. One stallholder dressed as a Dickens character was flogging plastic ducks sporting genitals.

My, can you imagine the collective, excited squeals as they are unwrapped? He also sold Elvis mugs that chimed 'Are You Lonesome Tonight', bathrobes with 'Italian Stallion' embroidered on the back and sexy Santa outfits which put the 'ho' into 'ho ho ho'.

Tat of the worst kind. Birmingham's German market is much the same.

Unhelpful, miserable...

and I only asked if they sold Nazi memorabilia.

My festive motto is: Merry Christmas Nearly Everybody.

I finally cracked and asked the market manager to play a decent Christmas song over the Tannoy, like that George Michael hit, rather than a looptape of Band Aid, Shakin Stevens and Slade.

"How's the George Michael one go?" he asked.

I cleared my throat and warbled: "Last Christmas I gave you my heart, but the very next day... you sold it on ebay to East European organ dealers."
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Publication:Sunday Mercury (Birmingham, England)
Date:Dec 9, 2012
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