Festive traditions vary dramatically from country to country, with ugly witches delivering toys in Italy and a Starman delivering beatings in Poland - but Ireland boasts a uniquely exacting Christmas schedule. Over the next seven articles, Shane Hegartyunwraps the full package - starting with CHRISTMAS EVE.

THE IRISH HAVE IT relatively easy on Christmas Eve. Our custom is long-standing but simple. In the morning, we go to work where we spend at least two hours compiling an e-mail vacation message before running out to do whatever shopping (eg, all of it) that hasn't already been done. Then we return to the office, spend another hour editing the e-mail vacation message before going for one drink that becomes five. We then head for home having left at least one bag of presents at the pub.

No year would be complete without this routine.

Across the world, of course, people will enjoy their Christmas Eve in a variety of ways. Many nationalities, "do" Christmas on the day before, long ago having figured out that it takes at least 24-hours to recover from eating your own body weight in stuffing.

And when you look into other traditions, you realise that it is really all about the food. In Poland and Lithuania, people indulge in a 12-course Christmas Eve supper. Which sounds perfectly divine until you hear that it is entirely meatless.

Twelve courses with no meat? Even an Irish vegetarian would surely struggle to come up with more than four dishes that don't have an animal somewhere on the list of ingredients. And that includes dessert.

In the German region of Schleswig-Holstein, the traditional food is a roasted goose or duck stuffed with apples, raisins and plums. Presumably, they need to cordon off the immediate area in case it explodes during carving.

THE GIFT-GIVING TRADITIONS also differ from country to country. In Portugal, Norway, Argentina and Spain, the children open their presents on Christmas Eve. In France and the Netherlands, kids will already have got some presents by St Nicholas' Day on December 6th. The German advent calendars often contain small presents, unlike the Irish chocolate-filled calendars that contain treats that, as the month goes on, taste more and more like the cardboard they've been squeezed out of.

At least the only sinister thing about the Irish Christmas Eve is Daddy's repeated threats to call Santa and advise him in no uncertain terms to call the whole thing off. In the Netherlands, on the other hand, there is the tradition of Black Peter, a character who arrives on the last Saturday in November with his master St Nicholas and does an audit of who has been naughty and who has been nice. Those in column A, according to custom, are to be beaten.

This Christmas Eve, also spare a thought for the Italian children who aren't supposed to get their presents until January 6th, the Epiphany. Even then, they get the remainders from Santa's workshop.

Ben 10 watch with a broken strap? Going to a boy in Milan.

Teddy bear with asbestos stuffing? A Roman kid'll wake up to that.

And worse, they'll get it, not from Santa - who will be on a hard-earned (and union-mandated) break - but from an ugly witch called La Befana. Legend has it that she attempted to follow the Three Kings' journey towards the stable in which Jesus lay, only to get hopelessly lost. To this day, and obviously not having invested in sat nav, she is said to be still searching.

Christmas Day, then, is not always the biggest day for the children. In Poland, for instance, the tradition is for them to get their gifts on St Nicholas' Day earlier in the month, when kindly St Nick gives them gifts or a spanking, depending on how well the children could recite their religious catechism. Tonight, the tradition is for a fellow called Starman to visit the kids. Before getting too carried away by the glamour of the name, note that he usually greets them by threatening to thrash them with a birch stick.

Christmas in Poland, then, is about striking a balance between enjoying the generous spirit of the season and fending off violence against minors. Tempers must be frayed.

The Irish traditions, then, are far more straightforward on Christmas Eve. Partly because they're largely absent. There are, however, a few that have slipped in over the years.

First things first: the stocking. If Santa is visiting your house (and if he's not, you need to ask yourself why) then you have to be prepared. But the wrong bit of hosiery can send out the wrong message. Too small, and it suggests a lack of self-esteem; too big, and it lacks humility. You need to pitch it just right, because Santa can't afford to waste his valuable time trying to stuff that game of Buckaroo into a pop sock.

Too big, however, and it suggests you take things for granted and there is nothing more disappointing on Christmas morning than finding that the sock is almost as saggy as it was when you went to bed. The advice: be humble. You may think it will limit your chances, but it could ultimately have a bigger pay-off.

After that, some will go to Midnight Mass. In some parishes, Midnight Mass takes place at about 8pm. In others, it takes place at midnight, but with the doors barricaded to keep out the drunks, so that the priest's sermon is spoken against a background of thuds as drunkards batter on the door like zombies.

BUT THE EVENING in many houses will largely revolve around a bath-time routine that, depending on the size of the brood, could take on sheep-dipping proportions. Then it will be all about dampening enthusiasm, so that everyone will be fast asleep by the time the big man comes, because he doesn't want to be seen coming down that chimney.

Santa's chimney trick is a neat one, but it's probably not the most dignified of entrances for an ageing fellow to make, what with the way the trousers ride up and his top can get rolled over his belly. Most adults find it next to impossible to exit a car in a dignified fashion, you can only imagine what it must be like to squeeze down a narrow chimney, all the while wondering if it's gas or coal and whether the residents had the sense to put out the fire. It's better to just leave him to it in private.

Remember too that it is no longer considered appropriate to leave out alcohol for Santa. Attitudes have changed markedly in this regard, although some politicians argue that it is deeply unfair to deny an elderly gentleman one of his few pleasures in life. Despite the most recent economic boom, they say, there is still an undeveloped public transport system between the North Pole and the rest of the world, meaning that Santa will most likely become a withdrawn figure in his own home if he is not allowed at least one or two drinks on his travels, just as he's done for many years without ever troubling anyone.

To be safe, though, a glass of milk will do. Or perhaps one of those fizzy vitamin tablets to keep his reserves up. But not for Mammy and Daddy. They need a glass of something to make them drowsy and relaxed. Because the most magical day of the year is about to be upon them. And it's going to knacker them out.