Ho ho ho hum

A lot of you have written to ask, what is Xmas in France like then? The answer to this really depends on what you're used to. My experience is that, even in the UK, there are a huge number of different ways to celebrate the Solstice.

I grew up doing things this particular way: presents were round the tree for some time before Xmas, with the quantity building as the day got nearer. Nobody believed in Father Xmas, not really, and not as the person who was putting the presents under the tree. We did nothing special on Xmas eve, but put "stockings" (football socks) at the end of the bed. This is what "father xmas" would fill with stocking fillers, and this was the only bit we kids were allowed to open before anyone else got up.

So, as a kid, you'd get up at 5 or 6 o clock, find your stocking filled with small things, chocolate, satsumas, and nuts, and that would suffice until the rest of the family got up. Small things might include extra Hot Wheels cars for the Hot Wheels set you were about to get. Or one of those "make your own balloons" kits that they used to sell in Hamleys, or a game of Spillikins.

So anyway, then the rest of the family would slowly get up (there were a lot of us at home, I was number 6 of 7) and eventually we'd position ourselves round the xmas tree, and my dad would be in charge of handing out the presents. Then I'd say something funny, and everyone would laugh except my mum, who would throw a wobbler and disappear upstairs until she was persuaded down. Sometimes this would happen before the present giving, sometimes after.

Then we'd have the usual huge xmas lunch and play games or watch telly all afternoon, apart from the queen's speech, which we never had on. Around tea time would be the Big Film That Had Never Been Seen On TV Before, and in the evening the Morecambe and Wise Xmas Show. Late at night, a season of ghost stories or horror films, like the original Haunting.

New Year's Eve was always redeemed by the Old Grey Whistle Test Review of the Year, followed by a film. Those days are gone, and Jools Holland is a poor substitute. I can't stand the way he continually says "Ladies and Gentlemen." It's like watching The Good Old Days.

In later years, before I moved in with B 10 years ago, I tended to find myself alone on NYE, watching this.

So in France it's all different, obviously. Everything, and I mean everything, happens on Xmas Eve. Around 8 in the evening, Papy goes out to ring a bell and pretend that Pere Noel is outside somewhere. So we chase round the house with the kids trying to catch a glimpse, while someone else brings all the presents into the living room. Then there's a big free-for-all and everyone opens presents. After that we eat some hors d'oeuvres, while we wait for the Big Meal.

Oh boy.

The first time I did the Big Meal I couldn't believe it. The British xmas dinner I was used to consisted of everything you hated to eat piled on a plate followed by xmas pudding. In later years, as we grew more middle class and sophisticated, we might add to the pain by eating French Onion Soup first.

In France, naturellement, they do things proper, with proper courses in the proper order. You might not sit down to eat till 9.45, by which time I'm always ready for bed anyway. First course is usually pate de foie gras (duck rather than goose I think), which is pronounced "foy groy" if you are hilarious like me.

Then there'll be a seafood course. Langoustines (a big scary prawn), lobster (an even bigger scary prawn), crab (an oddly-shaped scary prawn), or just some other kind of bottom feeder. Alternatively, you could just go and eat your own shit from the toilet rather than everyone else's.

Then there'll be a big plate of some kind of salad, with hearts of palm and aspargus. I can never work out if it's supposed to be here, or whether it's been forgotten and just remembered.

Then you have the main meat course, which is usually lamb for us, with little spherical sauteed potatoes. We've had years where they tried to force feed us more meat, but we revolted. That's about the point I stop paying attention, because it's usually well after midnight by now (happy christmas, by the way). Then you have the Smelly Cheese Torture. Followed by an ice cream log, and a sponge cake log. Then someone will seriously suggest that you might want a bit of fruit. Then coffee. I always think it's wisest to drink coffee at three o clock in the morning.

And a waffer thin mint.

Xmas day proper is a non-event as far as we're concerned, but some married couples have to go through the whole thing again at the (other) in-laws.

Boxing day, as a concept, does not exist in France. Life returns to normal.

No mince pies, no xmas pudding, no fruit cake. Ho hum.