FOR me, the London International Horse Show will always mark the true start of Christmas. I was first exposed to the show’s magic in my early adolescence, when my aunt took me and my younger sister to the Saturday extravaganza, a day that soon became a treasured annual tradition.

After the show, we would all clutch each other’s Puffer coats and bundle on to the London Overground like sardines. No doubt I would also be clutching onto a new pink diamanté headcollar that I treated myself to as an early Christmas pressie. The show’s designated Christmas Carol of The First Noel would be rolling off our tongues, much to the delight of everyone else on the train, and the Christmas spirit would be infectious.