At this time of the year, one usually reflects on the joys and challenges of the year that has been, goes Christmas shopping, and prepares for a family Christmas Day involving turkey, ham, or a good ol’ summer BBQ, family tensions washed down with copious quantities of wine, and Uncle Bernie loudly snoring as he naps in the corner. I don’t have an Uncle Bernie but I imagine if I did, he would be the one drinking a little too much port and telling inappropriate jokes.

My first Christmas in France was spent with Philippe’s* absolutely lovely French farming family who did not speak English. My French at the time was…ok…though I did manage to cock up a conversation about something to do with a comedian called Fasse (I think), loudly substituting it for another similar French word referring to one’s bottom (les fesses). First time meeting them all, I pride myself on first impressions.

In France, Christmas is actually celebrated on Christmas Eve at night. It is a grand affair. Well, at least the one I went to was. There were approximately 20 members of the family and the elders all lined up while the younger ones filed past in an orderly fashion to shake hands and bisous (three cheek kisses). The number of bisous (or bises for short) depends on the region you’re from. Where we were it was three. All rather formal and a little different from the “Here you go, wrap your laughing gear around that” as a glass of bubbles is placed in your hand that I associate with New Zealand Christmases.

Champagne there was, which is just as well because I found the family to be very reserved with me at first. I tried to make polite conversation, help the hostess etc but to no avail. Not what a kiwi welcome would have been. Once we were seated at 9pm, well, that was when the fun began. Foie gras, huge seafood platters, course after course of food – duck, fresh farm vegetables, bottle after bottle of extremely good wine, and plenty of pointed questions about why I was in France, washed down with more wine and food and laughs. It was 4am by the time we’d finished. When I expressed my concern to Philippe that I hadn’t felt very welcome at first, he explained that of course I was, they had brought out the best wine for me and that showed they had decided to accept me.

Christmas Day itself in France appears to be a day of rest, and I can see why. I did manage to drag my sorry self into 11am mass, but after that the day was spent recovering. I really miss Philippe’s kind and generous family but that’s a story for another time.

In other European countries, particularly the Netherlands, there are two Christmas Days simply known as First Christmas (25th) and Second Christmas (26th). Ever the practical culture, the first Christmas Day is spent with one family and the second Christmas spent with the other side of the family. The only argument is who gets to go first.

My next Christmas was spent back in New Zealand with my family, and started with my autistic and speech-less eldest brother throwing an almighty tantrum due to being in significant pain as we later discovered. Fortunately there were also bubbles which I quickly poured for everyone after my brother had calmed down and my daughter and I had cleaned up. Luckily he did settle and seemed to enjoy his Christmas dinner before having a nap on the couch.

This year was different. I was back in France, not able to get to New Zealand because of border restrictions and quarantine facilities being booked up until February. The two week quarantine would also have come with a $3000 price tag on top of an already inflated airline ticket.

France locked down again with 24 hours’ notice on October 31 until the middle of December after which time shops were allowed to open for Christmas shopping and a curfew put in place from 8pm till 6am. For Christmas Eve there was no curfew, but restrictions of maximum 6 people in one house at a time were in place. Yeah right. No famous European Christmas markets this year except for a street of appropriately-distanced cabins that I discovered in Paris after Christmas. Oh and one cabin in Orlean where I was able to have a vin chaud/gluhwein/mulled wine. For New Year’s Eve the curfew was back.

After already 6 weeks of literally just working and sleeping, I decided to take a good ten days’ off over Christmas. It was just as well that there was sleep that I needed because that was really all there was to do. Well, other than to battle the now non-socially-distanced-but-still-mask-wearing-crowds at the supermarkets for the Christmas Eve dinner.

Yes, even though it would be a Zoom Christmas, I had a friend coming over and thought I would still do a proper Christmas. I bought my first lot of European lights (the batteries cost more than the actual lights), a sapin (christmas tree) that I dragged up six flights of stairs and decorated with my first ever lot of European decorations. Naturally the cat thought it was a toy and spent many a happy evening pulling off a decoration that took her fancy before the obligatory knock-it-all-over moment.

Of course the butcheries were all full of beautifully prepared meat (usually volaille – poultry game meat – quail, duck, capon (don’t ask me what this is, I still need to google it), guinea fowl, and yes, turkey). The magic is that the butcher has already stuffed and prepared it all for you. I picked a stuffed capon (what the hell is a capon?), boned, and smothered in truffled butter. My friend, being Dutch and not overly enamoured with Christmas, played the Grinch due to previously poor experiences. When I asked what Dutch food I could add, I was told about Oliebollen and Appelflappen – both deep-fried apple fritter type desserts. Although traditionally served at New Year’s. Dutch Christmas food is just meat and veg.

So we had a mixed New Zealand and French Christmas with foie gras and fig toasts, prawn and avocado, salmon, the capon, and a French buche – Christmas log dessert. No, I didn’t make it, I queued for miles outside the patisserie with everyone else who was picking up their buches. Socially-distanced this time.

The beauty of the fact France celebrates Christmas on the evening of the 24th is that New Zealand is celebrating it at the same time even though there is a twelve hour time difference. So I was able to call everyone after dinner while they were preparing for lunch.

Afterwards it was…well… back to re-balancing chakras. After a year of lockdowns and restrictions, I feel I have sufficiently self-reflected already. I’ve developed a 5 year plan. Organised my finances. I’ve tried a new repertoire of recipes. I drink a green smoothie every day. Joined a diet group (or rather as they market it “a psychology-based eating lifestyle-change group”) and lost precisely no weight in two months. I have already transformed my second bedroom into a hot yoga studio with lavender oil burner and meditation chair. Spring cleaned in Autumn, even though I’m already a minimalist. Have signed up for online Excel courses ( dear Lord) and Zoom online French group classes so that I’m not too isolated. Started this blog. Donated to COVID charities. Read motivational books and books on French workplace culture so that I behave properly at work. Subscribed to Kindle magazines. Binge-watched Netflix and Amazon Prime. Researched wine tours and cooking classes. Joined a gym. Which of course has shut to all but those who are professional sportspeople and students. And, as I discovered, those with a medical reason to be there (justification required). One quick trip to the doctor and I was back at the gym, necessary piece of paper in hand, mask on, and wiping every piece of equipment down with hand sanitiser.

So what will 2021 bring? I’m done with jinxing that it would have to better than 2020. But who knows? There is hope – travel is still possible while taking all necessary precautions, and having the vaccine is a great relief. Europe with its still elevated number of COVID cases and now two new mutant strains out of the UK and South Africa, the only good news is that the vaccine is finally here and by the end of April those who want to be should be vaccinated. Not that this is going to make much difference to quarantine requirements in New Zealand, but I’m still hoping there will be some easing of restrictions for those vaccinated.

You don’t plan for a 1-in-100 year global pandemic when becoming an expat, you take for granted that, but for money and time off work, you’ll still be able see your family and friends regularly and be able to come back quickly if need be. It’s been over a year since I saw family and friends in person and I’ve missed three funerals in this time, including my stepfather’s and my mother’s best friend. I’ve had friends unable to visit their very ill family members because of COVID. People saying their final goodbyes to family on deathbeds via an Ipad.

New Year’s Eve was spent in Luxembourg, fully locked down from 9pm, maximum 2 people in a household, and an alcohol ban. I literally drank a cup of lavender and chamomile tea. But as midnight struck, there were fireworks outside in the empty streets, there was a televised concert from an empty Palace of Versailles with more fireworks and some very funny memes circulating on the internet as we kicked 2020 to touch. And I got to see in the New Year…via Zoom, in two different years at the same time, with a friend in New Zealand.

Happy New Year everyone!