Nothing says Christmas like watching Michael Buble crooning Jingle Bells!

And to make things all the more festive, he’ll be joined by the likes of Kylie Jenner and Gigi Hadid – um, what?! -as well as Blake Shelton and Celine Dion. Best watched with a glass of eggnog!


Got a die-hard Directioner in your life? They’ll love you forever if you pop this funny book under the tree. Illustrator Andrew Davies challenges you to find Zayn Malik and the rest of the ID boys. Welcome to the gun show!’


The building had pillars and high ceilings, fans and quiet polished corridors, green and gentle gardens. It was pulled down in the 1980s, but back then it was a two-storied, galleried, regency-style, built in a rectangle around inner courtyard gardens, with the balconies for the better, upper-floor rooms overlooking the gardens and the ones for the lesser rooms overlooking the streets. The east-wing rooms were for officers; the west-side was for crew. The bar ran along one of the lower-middle sections, cool and dark with white walls, shuttered windows, big plants and dark wood. It was an oasis of continuity, always the same sounds: a low murmur of conversation; the clink of ice and glass; the flat whoosh of air from the big fans. It was a common bar for officers and crew, although decorum dictated they gathered at different ends. The better end was the one with the bar-top fan. Adjoining the bar was the dining saloon with its polished floors, rattan furniture, big wooden ceiling fans and ghost-quiet waiters. Barry, John and I had a room each. Mine overlooked the mad-dog noise of the market, which howled up at me when I opened the louvered wooden doors to stand on the balcony, a thousand market odors, traffic fumes and the stink of people blasted upwards, overlaid with the pervading sickly-sweet stench of the durian fruit, which was being pushed by hawkers.

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