Reality check. There's a crisis going on so let's forget about Munich. The climate change has been so radical that a white Christmas is rarer than one that is pitch black. And I don't really drink.
Maybe next year?
Anyway, this topic came up yesterday when I spoke to my father on the phone: my brother would rather spend Christmas with our cats than come to Spain. That is a problem because one of my core principles in life is quite silly but not negotiable: I will not spend Christmas without my family. I was 19 when I moved abroad and I spend very little time with my family as it is, so Christmas is one of the few occasions that I can actually see them.
Christmas for me is made of delicious food (and it has to be Finnish), a big Christmas tree stolen from the neighbours, lots of decorations, cuddling with the cat, reading good books, talking to my mum for hours, candles and Santa Lucia, wearing a funny hat, listening to Christmas carrols on the radio, going to church and the smell of gingerbread. No matter how much I like paella, it is not part of that equation. Last year my family came to Valencia, and we had a good time eating Finnish food and listening to strange music.
So this year? The options are few but straightforward: start looking for plane tickets now and try to get the holidays sorted somehow (mine start on December 24 which is a bit too late considering how complicated it is to get to the island). Use the force that only big sisters are allowed to use. No Christmas at all.
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