IT'S only eleven weeks until Christmas and already I know what I want from Santa.

Apart from a fresh set of tyres for my Mini - but that's another story - I'm hoping the one present under the tree on December 25 is roughly about the size of my hand, yet capable of shooting videos, taking photos and calling your mates.

Yep: I want a Nokia N97 so badly that I'm willing Father Christmas to bring me one on his sleigh.

It's not that I have some insatiable need for the newest and shiniest mobile phone on the market, otherwise I'd just give up now and buy an iPhone. It's just that I had the N96, its predecessor, as a company phone for a few months this year, and instantly got hooked. It's not so much a phone as every gizmo a journalist has ever wanted, and as a slightly nerdy reporter I couldn't help but love it.

For that brief stint I had a camera, a camcorder, a Dictaphone, a telephone, a Satnav and just about everything imaginable in one package. Journalism these days is all about using different types of media in both print and online stories, and this did everything. No wonder Reuters and the BBC swear by it.

Since it got taken off me I've been like an addict desperately craving his next hit. I've taken to lingering around mobile phone shops, hopelessly waiting for a special offer on one to come up, and never quite succeeding. It depresses me to think I've finally caught up with the rest of the 21st century, and decided I want a mobile phone rather than need one.

My Nokia-something-or-other is doomed.

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