Snowballing in the figurative sense that is. The day itself was bright and sunny. Forecast was for -10 to 0 degrees, but we didn't have to go out, so I was able to skip a few layers - even put on a skirt.

We initially expected to have a quiet Christmas – ring the family in the morning and eat at a nice restaurant downtown, but Vern (the other AVI) mentioned he was hankering after a traditional turkey dinner at a restaurant or hotel. That sounded like a good idea, so we went on a search for such a place. We settled on a 5 star hotel with a buffet - drinks, entertainment, prizes and Haagen Das ice-cream included – and the girl at reception rang through to catering for us to confirm that yes, turkey would definitely be on the menu. It was expensive, but hey it’s Christmas, and within walking distance of the university. We bought tickets for Christmas Eve to leave plenty of time for phone calls etc. on Christmas Day.

The restaurant was packed. Apart from one person spied briefly by Vern before we arrived, we were the only westerners there, and the biggest table was full of purple-robed monks. The food was extensive and delicious, the entertainment ranged from a clown to musicians to choristers singing carols – unfortunately we didn’t win any spot prizes. Disappointing, as there were cameras and iPads on the list.

However, no sooner had we bought our tickets, than one of Owen's students (who he'd talked to about looking for a turkey dinner a couple of weeks before) told him she'd located a turkey for us. (It was a live one but she thought she could have it butchered). We couldn't say no ... suddenly two Christmas dinners.

We thought there was no way we’d eat a whole turkey ourselves, so we invited a few other foreign teachers and a couple of students to lunch on Christmas Day. That meant roast turkey was about to be added to the Domestic Goddess repertoire. I couldn’t believe I was about to cook an experimental Christmas dinner for guests! On top of that, we were warned - "it might be a bit different from the turkeys you get". Tried not to panic. When it arrived, apart from being a bit scrawny it looked fine.

I’d managed to find a roll of alfoil (wasn’t easy) at one of the bigger supermarkets, so Owen constructed a big domed lid for the wok. I made forcemeat stuffing and formed it into meatballs and pre-cooked them on Christmas Eve. (At least they’d be one thing that was edible). On Christmas morning I placed them inside the turkey, rubbed the outside with butter (yes found some of that too) and dried thyme, sat the beast on a layer of sliced onions and put it on to cook first thing.

It turned out pretty well in the end. It took longer to cook than I’d anticipated though, so Owen came to the rescue and finished it off with some manhandling and stir-frying. Lunch was a bit late, and some of the onion base stuck to the wok and burnt in the stir-frying process, filling the apartment with smoke for a while – but the meal went down okay. In the end it was just we foreigners for lunch, which was just as well – the students would have ended up with a screwy idea of Christmas. It was good to have a busy day – skyping the family in the morning made us feel a bit homesick.

On Boxing Day we had curried leftover turkey, a tradition we acquired from our friend Judy in London many years ago, and finally the last of it in fried rice.