I'm heading to Oslo for the holidays. My parents' house is on the edge of a forest, so we plan to ski the stunning trails and soak up the scenery. I'll most likely run into a moose - it's seriously wild out there. A s'mores session is essential: we'll see how quickly my two small city boys adapt to off-grid living, particularly the obsession my Viking dad has with making everything from scratch. In Norway, the tradition is to put the tree up on 23 December. Each year, I bring a festive decoration from Liberty's dazzling Christmas shop - sure, we love simple Scandi decor, but everyone needs a little sparkle in their lives. I'm most excited to wind down, reunite with loved ones and consume as much of my favourite childhood candy as possible. This is my last Christmas in my 20s, so I'm absolutely taking the opportunity to be a big kid.

Apart from a compulsory jaunt to Columbia Road's raucous Christmas Wednesdays carol service, I plan to have a relatively quiet Christmas this year. Boxing Day is when the festivities will really start, when I'll be jetting off to join my dad, sister and nephews in Bali. My dad's lived in Asia for the last four years and my sister and I have dreamed of a family trip to visit him - this year, we've actually managed to make it happen. We'll be lapping up the sunshine on Gili Gede, a lesser-known Indonesian island that's only spoken about in whispers, before a weekend city fling in Singapore.

For the first time in three years, I'll be travelling to my beautiful home country, Malta to spend the festive season with friends and family. I'll eat (and eat) the glorious food my grandparents will prepare for my return - I'll absolutely be arriving back in the UK a stone heavier and that's totally fine. This year, I'll be hosting our family Christmas lunch, something which I've been practising and practising for over the last few months in the hope of dishing up a feast better than my mum's. I'll be spending days flitting between Malta's beaches, basking in the glorious December sun with my furry friend, Rosie. Oh, and I'll be enjoying a glass (or three) of red, too.

After a short stop-off in Warwick for some festive celebrations with my boyfriend's family (carolling by lantern light at the historic castle and scoffing Neapolitan pies beneath the wacky, Sicilian-inspired interiors of Red Hot Mamma), I'll be making my annual Christmas pilgrimage down to East Hampshire's rolling hills. There, I'll be joining my family for the celebrations: cue, frosty morning dog walks, a Chichester Cathedral carol service, rural pub visits, festive brunching at the brilliant Josie's or the ever-dependable Cowdray Estate, and last-minute gift-hunting in the indie shops spread across the South Downs - Stuff & Co is great for UK-made stocking fillers. After a whistle-stop London NYE, I'm hitting the slopes in Laax, Switzerland - here's hoping I stay upright on my skis long enough to make it to Stalla, the must-visit raclette spot I've been told to make tracks (in the snow) to.

Sometimes the best laid plans are those barely laid at all. Hence a couple of weeks ago, I acted on a whim and booked into an unassuming riad on the fringe of Marrakech's medina. No set itinerary - just a loose plan to thread my way through the streets of a city I'll be discovering for the first time over the New Year. Top of my Red City stops will be Moro, a concept store from the team behind The Moroccans skincare brand, set just off rue Yves Saint Laurent and hawking handmade jewellery, clothing and - d'accord - beauty products. I'll also be hitting Maison de la Photographie de Marrakech, a museum dedicated to the diverse ways Morocco has been depicted through the lens since photography's invention. And, partly because I'm always homesick for Sydney at this time of year but mostly because it's getting glowing reviews, I've snared a table at Plus 61, a breezy, Aussie-run restaurant fusing flavours from the Mediterranean, Middle East and South Asia.

I'll be spending Christmas at my family's house on North Cornwall's rugged coastline, near the postcard-pretty town of St Agnes. Christmas Day always looks like a blustery walk along Perranporth beach, which often includes - for those brave enough - a dip in the ocean. On Boxing Day, we plan to stomp across to our local watering hole in Bolingey, for old-school pub grub and a tipple. This year, I've opted for a different set-up, booking one of Olla Hiki Sauna's snug shepherd huts to be my base. There, I'll be able to run from the sea straight into a steaming wood-fired sauna. And for NYE, there'll be a coastal pub crawl, obvs, starting from St Agnes and ending at Trevaunance Cove. I'm most looking forward to a cold pint at Driftwood Spars.

Following a short (but sweet) Alpine adventure on the slopes, I'll be returning to my hometown in the heart of the Surrey Hills, where Christmas will be spent with my family and friends. After tearing around the nearby chocolate-box villages on a last-minute gift-sourcing mission (a talent I can only say I'm proud of), I'll be stomping around the hills, foraging for foliage in preparation for crafting my annual handmade wreath. Each day will start with a hike around the scenic surrounds, after which I'll no doubt reward myself with a feast at my favourite pub, The Derby Arms, a snug spot that serves undisturbed views of London's skyline. In between the cheese board slumps, festive film marathons and mulled wine sessions, I'm most looking forward to long, lazy afternoons spent with my siblings beside the roaring open fire.

I'll be holed up in (snowy?) London this Christmas, but eating my way around the world by way of sunny brunches at Chet's, the Thai-Americana restaurant in The Hoxton's new Shepherd's Bush outpost; festive lunches at Heritage, Soho's Swiss-inspired mecca to all things molten cheese; and overindulgent dinners at W9's Greek-Cypriot neighbourhood joint Tsiakkos & Charcoal. Santa, I really tried…

This year, I'll be swapping the city for Shropshire's sprawling countryside to join my in-laws for Christmas. We'll spend the Twixmas period walking the Stiperstones ridge (ending at The Stiperstones Inn for a well-deserved drink by the fire), meandering around the cute market town of Shrewsbury and stocking up on the finest local produce from my favourite farm shop, Churncote. And, in case we haven't already eaten enough by this point, we'll be sampling the menu at the much-raved-about The Bear Inn in Hodnet, too.