Anyone who's visited LaplandUK will testify to the enchanting experience of meeting Santa and his elves. If you're familiar with children, are a child yourself, or have a keen interest in festive events, then you've likely heard of this Berkshire-based attraction.
It's a phenomenon among Christmas enthusiasts and attracts people of all ages. Tickets were sold out months before the gates opened in November this year, and they don't come cheap.
One mum calculated that their family of four spent over £500 for a day's visit, having booked eight months in advance. Considering you can fly to the actual Lapland in northern Scandinavia for a similar price, the Home Counties alternative must be doing something extraordinary to keep attracting visitors.
Fifteen years ago, when I was 16, I found myself working at what is now a seasonal sensation. Tired of earning £4 an hour cleaning teapots for my local National Trust at weekends, I jumped at the chance to more than double my wage as a Christmas elf when LaplandUK launched in Kent.
Twice a week, I'd head to Bewl Water reservoir and step through the Christmas portal, which the founders claimed was set up to transport festive families to Lapland without the emissions typically associated with a lengthy flight.
Donning curly elf slippers, maroon dungarees and a furry hat, my AS Level coursework was quickly forgotten as I fully embraced the festive spirit. After enduring months of serving subpar scones to the chagrin of my grumpy tea shop manager, it was a joy to work in such a well-organised environment.
Like clockwork, a large team of event planners, film producers between projects, and budding actors would unite to enthusiastically transform into Christmas characters. Families would invariably react with joy as they skated around the village ice rink, met real huskies and reindeer, and listened to a story from Mother Christmas, all under towering snow-covered fir trees.
Fathers - who were often more sceptical about the event - would find themselves almost involuntarily getting into the swing of things, noticing their toes tapping along to the jingly background music.
The highlight for visitors was always the chance to meet the man of the moment, Mr Christmas himself. As elves, we were pivotal in this enchanting encounter.
We'd greet groups in a large cabin where they'd been eagerly awaiting their turn, having had their names sneakily passed to us by an elf at reception. The journey to Santa's cabin took us through the Magical Forest, a labyrinth of evergreens that tested our memory and sense of direction.
Once there, after either dodging yet another 'elf and safety' joke from a dad or hyping up the kids into a festive frenzy, I'd tell the family I needed to check if Santa was awake and slip inside.
It was here that a sprinkle of secret magic came into play. After Santa tidied his beard and prepared for his visitors, he was armed with some truly astonishing tricks.
"Ohh Jamie, it's so good to see you. How is your friend Oliver? I saw him just last week. He already told me all about the Playstation you're hoping for," he'd say with a twinkle in his eye, leaving the kids wide-eyed in amazement. "Now your teacher tells me that you've been very good this year, but hopes that you can try a little bit harder in geography and stop chatting to Adrian so much next year."
Although my predicted grades may have taken a hit at the start of the January term due to weekends spent embracing the Christmas spirit rather than studying, the sheer joy of seeing children truly enchanted and their parents equally thrilled was definitely worth it. I would argue that the substantial cost of a trip to LaplandUK is justified by this experience.