Far from home, and in search of some festive spirit in a country that works on Christmas day, I hooked up with the choir of St George’s Cathedral, Jerusalem, for the annual inter-church carol service.

I boarded the scruffy bus to Bethlehem with St George’s largely ex-pat group, in woolly hats and scarves against the light Jerusalem snow. Our routine stop at the Green Line was slightly longer than normal. Long enough for some fellow passengers to start getting twitchy, but not long enough to dampen our spirits.

The first decorated Christmas trees appeared just over the border, and by the time we pulled into Manger Square everyone was exchanging Christmas greetings and making dinner invitations.

We ducked into the crusader-style Church of the Nativity and shuffled into a side chapel lit with candles. I was surprised at the modest chapel, since there were a couple of hundred people stuffing themselves into the service. Perhaps it was a security measure. Every discomfort round here’s a security measure!

The Greek Orthodox Patriarch opened the service with a short and lovely message welcoming all the represented denominations and cultures, and we launched into ‘Hark the Herald Angels’. In the last verse, black-suited men in dark glasses bundled the guest of honour to the front.

Yasser Arafat, making a rare appearance at a non-political function, stumbled over a few English words about Palestinian unity (Muslim and Christian), and expansively wished all present a ‘Mrrrrry Chrrrreeeestmas’!

Multi-accented voices swelled into ‘Silent Night’, while the Palestinian leader smilingly mouthed the wrong words, warmly shook hands, and generally effected excellent PR and made his guards nervous.

We floated home in a waft of incense and mulled wine, not noticing the lack of festive cheer at the checkpoint. It was now officially Christmas.