While half the world suffered, the other half went shopping. Boxing Day in Britain saw six million Britons take to the streets to take advantage of 70 per cent reductions offered by all the major stores. The price slashing was an effort to offset the worst Christmas retailers had seen
in a long while. Newspapers offered shoppers guides to the sales, hardy souls camped out overnight to be first through the doors - some of which opened at 5am - and bank managers the nation over rubbed their hands with glee in anticipation of the interest charges incurred by credit card wielding consumers.
I'd heard of the English post-Christmas sales but to experience the phenomenon was like nothing I had ever imagined. I was dragged, much against my will, down to Oxford St by the teenager who had found her style heaven in Top Shop. The footpaths were a seething mass of humanity. You could only shuffle along at the pace of the crowd and then break away from the crush to push your way into the store of your choice.
It is not an experience for the fainthearted or the claustrophobic. Once inside the store there was no let up. There were literally thousands of women accompanied by long suffering boyfriends or mothers flicking through hundreds of racks of clothes and all appearing to go for the same shirt or dress. Music blared, girls shrieked down cellphones to one another as they coordinated their shopping assault in much the same way as an efficient army would mount an attack, and against the odds, the sales staff were cheerful, helpful and unfazed by the bargain-hunting blitz.
I staggered out of the door two hours later, mind and senses reeling, with an apologetic but blissfully happy daughter, who had contributed £30 towards the estimated £5 billion (US$9.6 billion) that will be spent in Britain in the days after Christmas.
And the amount pledged worldwide so far towards the victims of the tsunami? US$1.35 billion.
