My weirdest Christmas: it was our first year in Sweden – but I insisted on having a big British celebration

I t was 3pm on Christmas Eve and already getting dark. As I stripped off on a wooden pier over the Baltic Sea in Malmö, Sweden, my husband and five-year-old boy, bundled up against the harsh wind, chanted: “Go Mummy, go Mummy, go Mummy!” Just as I was about to heroically slither out of my final laye...

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