Ah, the Winter Olympics, even your Gran stopped watching it the moment Torvill and Dean retired. Ok, granted, we have our odd moments, but Eddie the Eagle and that one time we did okay in the curling aren't exactly 'Where were you when..?' moments are they.

In fact, the only way you could get us to watch more then five seconds of 'ski ballet' would be if you gave us easy access to quite a lot of alcohol and then threw in a hot tub and a roaring log fire.

...What's that? There's a bar in the East End that's providing exactly that? Wow, time was you just had to install a quiz machine and maybe an extra flavour of crisp to pull in the punters. Now you have to turn the whole bar into a 'winter lodge' for a few weeks.

Cynicism aside, the Sosho bar's little PR ruse could provide a cosy little hideaway to sit out the current cold snap, and they're providing fondue for God's sake. One should never underestimate the impact melted cheese can have on a party's fun quota.

Just don't mix the fondue and hot tub experiences. We did that once and we still have the scars to prove it.