THE tree is up, Santa letters are in the post and the kinder-spawn fret endlessly as to whether the man himself will pony up on their extensive list of demands, but it is only on hitting Dublin that I begin to feel the first stirrings of Christmas spirit. The town is delightfully en fete: enough lights to humble the milky way, pine forests in every window and streets packed with grimly determined shoppers.

The September French wine sales keep on coming and there are genuine bargains to be had if you keep your wits about you over the next few weeks.