The first time I took my son ice skating was on New Year's Eve, at a rink that had been erected in the middle of Watford town centre.
He was only a toddler at the time, but no less strong-willed for it; and the entirety of that will was channelled into deciding that he wanted to skate clockwise around the rink. Which would have been fine, except that the rink's rules were that everyone had to skate anti-clockwise. In trying to explain this to him — very calmly and quietly — he became irrationally enraged as only a two-year-old can, insisted that he was going to go round his way, and when I persisted trying to point out the sign with the rules on it, he started bellowing 'Get away from me! You're not my daddy!'
Thankfully my other half was on hand to reassure our worried-looking fellow skaters (some of whom I'm sure had already dialled the first of three 9s) that all was fine, and that I was, in fact, his daddy. But you can understand why I haven't rushed back on to the ice for some years — and it might have been several more if it hadn't been for an invitation to take part in a seasonal institution in the capital: Skate at Somerset House.
With a skating style akin to a new-born foal who's just downed a can of cider, I can't say that I wowed onlookers — but that's the beauty of this rink, since it must surely be the friendliest place in London. The good skaters help the bad, the bad smile indulgently at the abysmal, and everyone enjoys themselves for an hour before heading off for hot chocolate. At one point, my wife was working her way around clinging to the side railing, and had to get past a similarly nervous skater who'd stopped for a breather. 'I'm going to have to hold on to you as I go past,' said my other half, and what would normally be an unheard-of request in this city elicited only a nod and smile of encouragement. Even better than that, the kids went the right way around the ice, and nobody reached for their phones to call the police.
Just as the London Eye was originally planned as a temporary installation for the Millennium, the installation of the skating rink at what was once London's most glamorous office block was a sort of 'let's give this a go' idea some bright spark had back at the end of 1999. It was a hit from the start, was immortalised on film in Love, Actually, and almost a quarter of a century later, it's still going strong and is as popular as ever, judging from how many of the sessions are already fully booked. It's pretty much impossible now to imagine London in winter without this staple.
'It's shut off from the outside world — it's almost this Christmas bubble you can go into,' one of the regular visitors said when Somerset House made this video a few years ago. And that really is it: a gorgeous, Christmassy experience in a beautiful place. Just be careful if you're going there with a recalcitrant toddler.
Skate at Somerset House runs until 12 January 2025, priced between £10 and £26.50 depending on the session. Some peak time slots (e.g. Christmas Eve) are fully booked at the time of writing, but a limited number of on-the-day tickets are available for each session. See somersethouse.org.uk/whats-on/skate-somerset-house.
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