It all depends what you mean by quality of life

Letter from Copenhagen/Brendan Killeen: Maybe it's because Lapland, Santa's home, is situated in the northern regions of Sweden…

Letter from Copenhagen/Brendan Killeen: Maybe it's because Lapland, Santa's home, is situated in the northern regions of Sweden and Norway, but Christmas comes a day early in Scandinavia. The main celebration is today, December 24th, or First Christmas day, as it is called.

Winter, and especially Christmas, is a time when the Scandinavian art of hygge is practised. It is a concept as unique to the region as craic is to Ireland. Literally it means "cosy" and refers to a type of winter socialising where, instead of venturing out to meet, friends gather in each others' homes to eat, drink and make merry.

While the tradition of hygge is a sort of nirvana for Scandinavians, it can be quite daunting for non-nationals. You see, as well as cosiness, to me it is synonymous with a certain social rigidity. Events are planned weeks in advance. Social life as we know it in Ireland simply doesn't exist. Dropping in to have a cup of tea and a chat unannounced is so far out of the question as to be inconceivable.

There is no such thing as a quick dash down to the local. In fact, if you ask someone if they fancy a pint, a pocket-sized calendar will be produced and a date six months down the road will be suggested. We never simply head into town to pick a restaurant. The Internet will have been scoured and a venue chosen after a bout of mobile-

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phone-based consensus-building.

This winter I have been attending state-sponsored Danish classes every day in the centre of Copenhagen. The other students come from the four corners of the Earth, and we have become a support group of sorts for each other.

Whether we are from Ireland, Iraq, India or Israel we all feel some isolation from the Danish social life at this time of year.

However, there is one critical difference between us. Because I am from a relatively safe and relatively prosperous country, I sometimes fail to see the qualities of life in Denmark that my classmates from less stable countries fully appreciate.

This fact was pointed out to me in no uncertain terms by Sherie, a young Israeli mother with a young child who recently put me firmly in my place.

"OK," she snapped. "They aren't the friendliest bunch. Some of their social routines are terrifying, and they haven't a spontaneous bone in their bodies.

"But Danish people don't lie. They won't cheat you, and there is no violence to speak of. There are very few rich people but no really poor people either.

"I left Israel because most of my taxes went to the army and I didn't know if my husband would be killed every time he left for work. Here I feel safe. I know the system works. Wait until you have a child. You will see."

Sherie knew that my wife was two weeks overdue with our first when she made her prediction. Three days later we had a baby boy.

While we were all still recovering in the delivery room the midwife brought us a tray with sandwiches, toast and tea. An hour later we were shown to our own private apartment in an annexe of the maternity department. Here we spent four days getting to know each other.

Outside our room we shared a changing station with the people next door. It was like the maternity equivalent of the pit stop of a Formula One team: everything we could possibly have wanted was on hand.

Nurses, midwives and doctors were a bell-ring away. My wife was offered the services of a reflexologist and an acupuncturist, the latter of which she availed of.

We entertained guests during strict visiting hours but were alone the rest of the time.

After four nights we were asked if we were ready to leave. The maternity clinic was busy, but if we had a good reason for wanting to stay, we could do so. In short, it was the most amazing experience of both our lives and one that we could not have had in many other counties.

My wife later referred to the whole experience as hyggelig, explaining that the concept covered any pleasant experience. It seems that hygge, or its active form hyggelig, can apply to the entire Danish outlook on life, where you pay astronomical taxes but are safe in the knowledge that very few are going without.

Everybody is as cosy as the state can possible make them with equal access to the best healthcare in the world, safe streets, actual rather than imaginary child-care, a working environment that acknowledges family life.

These are all things that could exist in Ireland but we choose not to have them. The Danes can't build stunning scenery or manufacture a more laid-back attitude to life, but we could have their standard of living if we really wanted it.

It is a question of philosophies: hygge versus the craic. As a new father, a part of me longs for the latter, but I have a feeling the former philosophy will be more my style, for the time being, at least.

And so I am prepared for my first Danish Christmas. I know which presents I am going to get as I had to prepare a wish list weeks ago from which friends and relatives could choose something.

I don't expect any surprises but there shouldn't be any shocks in the form of socks or dodgy aftershave!