”Hey Florencia! Why don’t we go to one of those Christmas fairs?!”, said my friend, with much more enthusiasm than that with which I received the offer.My idea of Christmas fairs is basically a chaos that combines children screaming either in joy or fear, too many people queuing for attractions, too many smells stemming from the various food stalls. Not my thing at all.”Sure, let’s do it”, I answered back trying to sound happy about it.

We went to Winterville in Victoria Park on Sunday, and I have to admit, it turned out to be much more fun than I expected.Of all the attractions, only two of them looked thrilling enough for us: those flying seats  and the crazy spinning thing, whatever their real name is. In the second one, they kept us spinning for about 8 minutes, literally. We think the guy just forgot to press the stop button. We got off feeling so dizzy, there was no need for beer at that point.

But the cherry on top was my visit to Santa. We happened to pass by a tent, and when we looked inside we saw a tender looking Santa (probably some skinny young lad under the long white beard) and a few kids queuing in front of him. I instantly made the resolution I couldn’t leave without sitting on his lap. I queued among crying and screaming children, and when my turn came, I looked at Santa and said: “Hi Santa. I’m a really big child who never sat on Santa’s lap, could I do it now?”, and he answered in a deep cavernous, yet sweet voice, “Of course you can, come sit on my knee”. And so I did. At my recently turned twenty three years old, I fulfilled one of my inner child’s dreams. Let’s call it a Christmas’s miracle.


"Hi!  I am Florencia, a recently graduated Arts teacher, actress and eager reader and writer. Also, a great adventurer, day-dreamer and imaginer, who loves long walks and colourful sunset skies."