by Ben Groundwater, on loan to us from his regular column at the Sydney Morning Herald.
It's the constant queuing up that really starts to get to you.
You arrive at the airport to find 10,000 of your closest friends all trying to check in. You make it through that, and they've all beaten you to the security check.
Then there's another interminable wait to have your passport checked, and a two-hour wander through crappy duty-free stores before you can eventually board your flight. And waiting for you at the other end? A queue for customs and immigration that looks like people trying to get out of a Celine Dion concert.
And of course you get to experience all of this joy accompanied by either your own screaming children, or someone else's.
But hey, it's Christmas, so you're going to go anyway.
There are two ways to do overseas travel at Christmas time. You can either be desk-bound live-at-homer who's managed to score a few weeks off over the holiday period, or a long-time traveller who has to be reminded what month it is, let alone that it's Christmas Day.
For the desk-bound among us, Christmas can be a time to get away from the daily grind, visit some rellies (or, alternatively, get away from some rellies), and either get some sun or shoot for the fairytale white Christmas.
For the romantics (and I know this is a bit unoriginal), you just have to head to New York. Like most holidays, the Yanks take Christmas very seriously, and celebrate it with the sort of fervour that Australians would normally reserve for the afternoon game of backyard cricket.
Houses in the 'burbs are gaudily lit with decorations strewn about the garden and on the roof, while Manhattan has a magical feel about it that you can't help but be swept up it. My advice: indulge in every cliche you can. Skate hand-in-hand with someone at the Rockefeller Centre, wander around pointing at things at FAO Schwarz, take a stroll up Fifth Avenue. If you're lucky, it'll even snow.
Europe bound fairytale-chasers can thrill to the romance of Paris or Rome in winter, or spend hours wandering through the Christmas markets in Prague. Alternatively, get some peace and quiet in a tiny cabin somewhere in the Swiss Alps.
And it might be a little drearier, but London has a great energy around Christmas.
However, if you're anything like me, and you think Christmas is about as much fun as hitting yourself with a sockful of 50 cent coins, fear not: there are options. For starters, you could ditch the turkey (and the turkeys you usually hang out with) and head for warmer climes - any one of the Pacific islands would be nice.
Or if the sight of the Christmas window displays at David Jones or Myer makes you want to dig a little hole for yourself and wait for it to all go away, why not head to a non-Christian country, like, say, Morocco or India? Most people couldn't give a toss about Christmas over there - so you won't have to either.
For those already firmly ensconced overseas, however, you probably won't have the luxury of choice - wherever you end up will be your location for Christmas. In my experience, it's best to try to surround yourself with as many fellow travellers as possible. It's not much fun spending Christmas alone, but a hell of a lot spending it with a bunch of other people who are.
I've had a couple of great, if rather surreal, Christmases on the road. One I spent in the Rockies in Colorado, crammed into a little house with about 20 new friends. It all got going when Toru, a massive Maori bloke, showed up.
"What? No Christmas tree?" he said, surveying our little lounge room. "No worries!"
With that he stomped back out the door, waded through the waist-deep snow in the backyard, yanked a fairly large tree out of the ground, and brought it back to the house. A little more Christmas spirit was added.
I also spent a Christmas in Malawi - on a slightly hotter day - dressed in women's clothing, drinking a punch the consistency of rocket fuel out of a giant esky. It wasn't exactly traditional, but gee we had a good time.
And that's just it; Christmas on the road is what you make of it. If you can ignore the screaming kids, the hugely inflated prices, the insanity-inducing carols and the crazies you're spending it with (be they family or not), it can be a blast.
If not? Well, it's usually over pretty quickly.
Merry Christmas everyone.
