If you didnât grow up in the UK, Christmas here can feel oddly familiar and completely baffling at the same time. It looks somewhat similar to other, Christian Christmas days - a decorated tree, lights, food, family â all the usual suspects â but scratch the surface and youâll quickly notice that the British do things their own way. Sometimes charming, sometimes confusing, and occasionally borderline absurd.
Here are a few traditions that made me raise an eyebrow in December.
The Christmas Day Parkrun
A surprising number of Britons (especially non-Londoners) voluntarily put on running shoes and a Santa hat and head to the closest parkrun location. Parkrun is a free, 5 km community run â that usually take place on Saturday at 9 a.m. in parks across the country. Christmas park run is special exception regardless of what day of the week it falls on - people run in festive hats, Santa costumes, or silly Christmas jumpers. For some, itâs about earning the roast dinner in advance; for others, itâs a rare moment of fresh air and structure before the day descends into gravy and sofa-based inertia. Thereâs something uniquely British about starting Christmas morning with mild competitiveness, and a strong sense of moral satisfaction.
Christmas Dinner⊠at Lunchtime on the 25th
One of the first shocks is when Christmas actually happens.
In many European countries, the main celebration is on the evening of the 24th â a long, ceremonial dinner that stretches late into the night. In Britain, however, Christmas dinner is firmly anchored to the 25th of December, and not even in the evening, but around 1â3 pm.
Why?
Partly tradition, partly religion. England moved away from Catholic practices after the Reformation under Henry VIII. Over time, Christmas Day itself became the main focus rather than Christmas Eve, with church services in the morning and a large celebratory meal afterwards.
The result? A massive roast dinner in the middle of the day, followed by enforced lethargy and horizontal positioning on sofas just in time for King's speech at 3 o'clock.
The Queen Kingâs Speech
At some point on Christmas Day, usually just as everyone is drifting into a food coma, the television is switched to the Kingâs Speech. Itâs a short, formal address broadcast at 3 pm, a tradition dating back to 1932. For the current generation, Queen Elizabeth II ruled for so long that the word "Queen" is rooted so deeply in everyday language that many people still refer to it as the Queenâs Speech without thinking.
People in paper hats - the mystery of Christmas Crackers
If youâve never encountered a Christmas cracker, you might assume itâs a dessert. It is not. A cracker is a colourful cardboard tube that two people pull apart from each side before the meal. It has makes a loud bang, splits and creates lots of rubbish. It contains:
- a paper crown (mandatory to wear)
- a terrible joke
- a small plastic item that everyone is keen on to play with usually goes in the bin 1h later
No one questions this ritual. Everyone wears the paper crown. Even the most serious adults comply, sitting at the table in a crown that says âMerry Christmasâ while eating roast potatoes.
The jokes are so bad theyâre good. Or just bad. Either way, they must be read aloud.
Pigs in Blankets
This one deserves its own section.
Pigs in blankets are small sausages wrapped in bacon â and they are treated with a level of reverence usually reserved for national monuments. They are neither pigs nor blankets. They appear confidently on the plate next to, turkey, roast potatoes, stuffing, gravy. Pure decadence, if you ask me. Youâd better have done that Christmas parkrun in the morning.
My final though
British Christmas traditions may look strange from the outside, but thatâs part of their charm. Thereâs something oddly comforting about rituals that are slightly impractical, deeply ingrained, and followed without much explanation.
You may not understand why dinner happens at lunchtime, why youâre wearing a paper hat, or why sausages wrapped in bacon inspire such devotion â but once youâve experienced it, it all starts to make a peculiar kind of sense.
And if nothing else, youâll leave well-fed, mildly confused, and already planning how to steal the last pig in blanket.