In a few hours, I'll be boarding the Eurostar, en route to another wonderful family Christmas. At the moment, I'm finishing off at the office, listening to Christmas carols on Pandora and dreaming, maybe not of a White Christmas, but of a lovely one, like all the others. Unlike many people (apparently), I don't have any Christmas traumas. No therapy needed, thank you very much, Mr F.

When we lived in Africa, we would spend every other yuletide in the tropical way. I distinctly remember my mum buying our tree at the butcher in Nouakchott, because he had a fridge big enough to store them in. It must have been very challenging for my parents to make a real Christmas for the 3 of us, in countries where you couldn't find what you needed, but somehow, they always pulled it off and we have lots of good memories of these sun-filled times.

The other years, we would be in Denmark, commuting from one set of grand-parents to the other and relishing being with our families. Those times bring memories of eating way too much, especially as most of my cousins lived abroad as well so we had to have our fix of all things Danish in as little time as possible. If it had been snowing enough, we would take the horse-sleigh into the woods to find the tree (how idyllic can it get?). And always, always, we would decorate it on the 23rd and never before. In my mother's family, the Certified Tree Decorators were my mum and her brother Michael. In my dad's family, I think it was my grand-father, but we were never there to see it happen.

Ever since we relocated to Europe, our Christmases have become bi-cultural, since we now spend them in France, where my French family lives. So instead of blending the traditions, we have 2 celebrations...

Our Danish traditions go something like this:

A few days before Christmas, we start worrying about not having bought a tree. Whoever is brave and patient enough, sets out to find the biggest and most beautiful there is. If we have to chop off a bit to make it fit, it's only the better. The question is always whether it will be approved by my mum. And me :-)

Then on the 23rd, we decorate it. I have now graduated to Certified Decorator as well, and Skat is exceptionally allowed to lend a helping hand. The rules are:

• Top Star goes on first. I'm not entirely happy with the old heirloom we have, so last year I bought a new one, but I'm not convinced by that one either.
• Baubles and all small things hanging go on first. We try to have as much home-made or sentimental-value on as possible. And the same decorations every year. You'll never catch us with a trendy tree!
• Then the Danish flag garlands go on. Yes, surprising, but very traditional in Denmark. We always discuss whether we want the garlands to 'drop from the top' or 'wound their way round'
• After the garlands, it's time for the 'lametta', long thin strings of tin foil. Here, restraint is the key word, otherwise it looks awfully tacky
• And finally, the candles. Yep, live candles! They have to go on last, so we make sure they are not too close to anything else, for obvious reasons

The tree itself will be standing on one of two Christmas Tree Rugs, handmade by one of my grand-mothers. And yes, I will post a photo when I get a chance. Maybe not until we come home after New Year.

If we can convince them, my dad and Skat spend some time making traditional sweets, with marzipan and nougat. They have to whistle while they do it, or sing, so we can be sure they are not eating everything! Being a management consultant, Skat always gets teased that he optimises the process to death instead of just enjoying the moment. Carpe Diem!

On the 24th, it's Danish Christmas. My mum, Skat and I take care of the food. That's a big honour, since until some years ago, my mum was sole in charge. So, this being a food blog, what's a Danish Christmas Dinner like?

• There is no traditonal starter, but we sometimes have some smoked salmon
• Then the piece de resistance, which in our case is a roast goose (or duck), stuffed with apples and prunes. Side dishes are boiled potatoes, small potatoes fried in caramel, sweet and sour red cabbage and gravy.
• Dessert is ris a l'amande, a French title for something no Frenchman has ever heard of: a rich rice pudding, mixed with whipped cream and chopped almonds, and onto which is poured a warm cherry sauce. Now the special thing about this, is that there is one whole almond in the serving bowl, and whoever gets it, gets a gift. In my family it can be anything from something nice, funny or useful, to something horribly tacky and awful...

After dinner, the evening is far from over, since now we partake to the living room and light the candles on the beautiful tree before dancing around it. I don't really mean dance, but that's what it's called. We hold hands and walk around it, singing Christmas carols. I love this part as it's the only time of the year where I'm allowed to sing in public and nobody can complain about my lack of musical sense. So I always want to sing a bit more...

And then it's time for prezzies! The tradition is that the youngest gets them under the tree, but having been the youngest for far too many years, I sometimes go on strike, and we take it in turns, although my dad needs a little coaxing.

The next day, it's the French Christmas... and I'll get to that in my next post, as it's almost time to catch my Eurostar and whiz through Southern England and Northern France, relaxing hand in hand with Skat, snoozing a bit, marvelling a the beautiful weather and generally enjoying being on holiday. Then we pick up my mother-in-law in Paris (flown in from Denmark) and continue Southwards.

God Jul, everybody!