WELL it has started already. Chris Rea’s Christmas classic Driving Home for Christmas has hijacked the airwaves, and the mad, manic hurtle towards the festive season is under way.

The retail Mecca of Bicester Village seems to have more pilgrims than ever (clearly most of them are blissfully unaware of the double dip recession) and most town centre car parks are at least 50 spaces short.

As well as parking stress, busy roads and people rushing everywhere (it really is ONLY Christmas and there is only ever one day when the shops are not open), we have the added stress of the party season.

When you live in a town, driving to a social occasion isn’t really an option. The mere notion of firing up the Jag to attend a Christmas function does not even enter one’s head. You simply get a cab or a bus or even a train. Or in extreme cases and dependant on the height of the heels, the distance involved and the temperature – you walk.

Now, out in the sticks folk do things differently. We have to plan, discuss and negotiate if we want a booze-filled night of festive frolics away from the ‘village’ because obviously drinking and driving is a complete no go.

Car keys are safely tucked away and from about the beginning of December the endless texts, emails and phone calls begin in an attempt to either scrape enough cash together to pay for cabs, download the latest train times or....take it in turns to be the designated driver.

Mmmmm...don’t know about you, but I am not THAT keen on being the cabbie for the night. Previously I have had little choice but to be the driver as rolling home drunk and incapable of dealing with small children waking in the wee small hours was never an option.

However, as the only one waking up for a midnight wee these days is yours truly...I can now actually go out and party.

So what to do? Put names in a hat and pick one out maybe? But then there is always one good friend who has to witness the drunken antics of the rest of us, and where is the fun in that?

Taxis are hideously over-priced at this time of year and there is always the danger that I will leave my mink stole or diamante clutch bag on the seat.

But it’s Christmas! It’s THE party season! I have a new frock and sexy high heels and I want to go to the BIG town and have cocktails like all the other grown ups...

Mmm. To be honest, the current freezing temperatures are doing nothing to tempt me out of my cosy village home, so perhaps this year I will just give in, open the wine and have a date with a large box of chocolates and my faithful sofa instead.

Anyway...there’s always the X Factor!