Virginia and I set off at half ten this morning, aiming to get there in better time than last year. It was an awful drive, the rain and particularly spray from lorries and cars was horrible. At one point we had to go through a dirty muddy putrid water splash on a country road, thanks to an oncoming vehicle the poor Skoda got drowned in a yellow tsunami and we were virtually underwater for a few seconds.

The Satnav once again is taking its revenge for not being used very often. It took us on a tour of farmyards close to Thursford including another water splash rather than the route everyone else seemed to take. Perhaps we should update it.

We did reach the Thursford Collection just after it opened that day for the matinee Thursford Christmas Spectacular show, ahead of most of the coaches. A pair of hardy Mr Pickwicks greeted us, and we found a sandwich bar with tables to sit at not yet oversubscribed, unlike last year when we had to perch on a roundabout to have something.

Before the show at 2pm we visited Santa’s Magical Journey (which has a neat Disneyesque series of tableaux to wander through on your way to Santa’s Grotto, sadly Santa himself was out to lunch.) Fantasy Land was a comfortable place for a comfort break. The contrast of the steam engines with their valves and pipes against the ethereal Christmas lights was enchanting.

The Christmas show started at two. It wasn’t the wonderful novelty of seeing it the last time, second time is always different. There were repeated motifs or devices like the Scottish pipers and drummers, an old school comedian mercifully clean, the processing of the singers round the auditorium with their candles, the amazing playing on the Wurlitzer organ. But there were changes like a Stomp inspired number, and a juggler who displayed dexterity with diabolos. Thought had gone into it all, it wasn’t unconscious going through the motions. There were innovative touches here and there.

The stage is very wide at Thursford and one could have used several sets of eyes to see all that was happening. It was a visual as well as an aural feast with at one point a spectrum of pastel dresses.

It was just so crowded. Shopping was like being trapped in a traffic jam through a village with a one-way system. Long queues for the toilets. People chattering during the performance. But without all the people going, all those coaches, this show would not exist. And the numbers of fellow showgoers added to the atmosphere, there’s something special about being in such a throng. An inexpressible feeling.