A Very Unsettled Christmas: Finding Holiday Magic Around the World
Christmas has taken me from shopping streets in London, to watching scuba-Santa in Korea, to cheering with my students in Vietnam, to drinks on a beach at midnight. No two holidays ever look the same — and that’s where the magic begins.
My family goes crazy for Christmas — the good kind of crazy. Every little space in the house gets a decoration. If there’s an empty corner, someone will find a Santa, snowman, or sparkly reindeer to fill it. And outside? Proper lights everywhere. Every year the display grows like we’re quietly competing with the North Pole.
So, when I first started travelling, Christmas felt different. A little sad at times — especially with the time zones. It wasn’t just the heat or unfamiliar food; it was that missing feeling. The chaos, the noise, the cousins, the $5 White Elephant gifts we’d fight over like they were priceless treasure. The moment an aunt yelled, “Dinner’s ready!” and forty people stampeded to the table.
Travel takes you away from all that.
But somehow, every year, Christmas still found me.
A tiny travel family here, a new tradition there — little sparks of holiday magic in the most unexpected corners of the world.
And yes… apparently going to nightclubs on Christmas Eve is a thing overseas.
Do I love it? No.
Would I rather drink hot chocolate and watch festive movies? Absolutely.
But these strange little moments somehow turn into the core memories I never saw coming.
Back home, Christmas is a production — dinner at 5 p.m., White Elephant chaos, Skype calls where I get passed from aunt to cousin to grandma. Abroad, it becomes something different. Sometimes messier. Sometimes quieter. Always memorable.
Travel changed the way I celebrate Christmas.
But it never took the magic away.
And this is where it all began — the stockings, the chaos, the decorations in every corner. Home will always be my original Christmas magic.
When Christmas Finds You Anyway
The beautiful, annoying, emotional thing about travel is that you can be halfway across the world — sweaty, sunburned, lonely, overwhelmed — and Christmas still finds you.
I learned that quickly.
My early holidays abroad were a mix of hostel common rooms, makeshift decorations, and strangers who somehow became family within 24 hours. I’d arrive somewhere new and think, Well… this won’t feel like Christmas.
And then it would.
Maybe it was teachers in Thailand who decided the solution to homesickness was dancing at a nightclub on Christmas night, singing loudly and terribly and not caring at all.
Maybe it was a group of backpackers passing around cheap wine in a tiny hostel kitchen, calling their families on shaky Wi-Fi, laughing as someone shouted, “MERRY CHRISTMAS FROM AUSTRALIA!” into a phone held three inches from their face.
Maybe it was a Polish Christmas dinner after a long shift in England — the first time I ever did vodka shots for the holidays — learning that every culture has its own way of creating warmth.
Maybe it was swimming outdoors on Christmas Day in Thailand, something my Canadian brain still hasn’t fully accepted.
Or maybe it was sitting on a beach in Central America, building a sandman instead of a snowman, watching the sun go down and thinking, This is different… but this is still Christmas.
A Polish Christmas dinner in England and a Christmas swim in Australia — two completely different worlds, but somehow the same familiar feeling found me anyway.
The Bittersweet Part
Of course, there’s the homesick part.
The 2 a.m. video calls because of time zones.
The awkward moment when you’re passed from aunt to uncle to cousin to grandma and everyone asks, “How’s your Christmas?” all at once.
The quiet realization that you’re celebrating twice — once where you are, and again when your family wakes up on the other side of the world.
Travel Christmases are loud and soft at the same time. They stretch your heart in different directions. They remind you that distance doesn’t cancel tradition — it just reshapes it.
I still decorate a tree when I can.
I still give gifts.
I still send a little something home for the White Elephant game.
And my family still sends gifts back, arriving slightly crushed, slightly delayed, but filled with love.
Even overseas, there is always a moment — sometimes tiny, sometimes unexpected — where it hits me:
Ah. There it is. The Christmas feeling.
No matter where I am in the world, I still send gifts home — and create a little Christmas corner of my own.
What I’ve Learned About Christmas on the Road
Christmas doesn’t disappear just because you’re far from home.
It adapts.
It travels.
It shows up in the people you meet and the places you never expected to feel festive.
It’s in:
🌟 hostel dinners cooked by people you met 10 minutes ago
🌟 laughing with strangers who become family for one night
🌟 decorating one tiny plastic tree in a foreign apartment because the holiday spirit said so
🌟 the magic of giving someone their first stocking
🌟 the familiar sound of “Merry Christmas!” shouted through a screen filled with 50 loud family members
🌟 Taylor Swift on a beach in Hong Kong
🌟 waffles in a tiny Korean apartment with new friends
🌟 Christmas movies in classrooms because you definitely don’t want to teach a lesson
🌟 dancing at bars when you’d rather have hot chocolate
🌟 sharing traditions with people who’ve never experienced them before
Christmas, I’ve learned, is less about where you are and more about who you’re sharing it with — even if that “who” is a Wi-Fi connection and a blurry screen full of Canadian chaos.
Christmas has taken a lot of forms in my life: Mickey-shaped magic in Hong Kong, beer pong tournaments in New Zealand, a hostel party in Australia, and a full-on dance night in Thailand. Same holiday, totally different worlds.
The Magic Follows Me
My holidays now look different every single year.
Sometimes chaotic. Sometimes quiet. Sometimes sunburned. Sometimes snowy.
But every year, without fail, something small or silly or unexpected brings the magic back.
That’s the thing about being unsettled — Christmas learns to travel with you.
And I wouldn’t have it any other way.
Because sometimes the Christmas spirit looks like me… and Santa Stitch… causing trouble abroad.
