Christmas isn't one holiday, it's dozens. A new round-up from Condé Nast Traveller UK collects the festive customs its editors swear by, spanning four continents — and several of them will genuinely change how you think about December travel.

Some are deliciously odd. In Japan, Christmas dinner means KFC, a habit born from a 1974 marketing campaign called 'Kentucky for Christmas' that stuck so hard families now order their buckets weeks in advance. Dessert is strawberry shortcake, not pudding. In Austria, the flip side of Saint Nicholas is Krampus, a horned, snake-tongued figure who prowls the streets on Krampusnacht (5 December); Alpine towns stage Krampuslauf parades of masks and fur costumes that are equal parts folklore and street theatre.

Others are pure atmosphere. Peru's celebrations kick off at midnight on Christmas Eve, when Lima erupts in fireworks over a turkey-and-arroz-arabe feast, then parties on until dawn. In Poland, the Wigilia supper starts when the first star appears and traditionally means 12 meatless dishes — homemade pierogi front and centre. Italian families, especially in the south, serve a twelve-dish fish feast on Christmas Eve, then stretch the season all the way to Epiphany, when La Befana, a broom-riding witch, delivers sweets to good children and (sugary) coal to the naughty.

Then there are the traditions that only work because of where they are. Australia's Christmas is summery: seafood and cold ham for lunch, backyard cricket, pavlova, and Santa rocking up at the beach on an inflatable rescue boat. Boxing Day belongs to the Sydney to Hobart yacht race. In Southern California, locals keep an eye out for Surfing Santa — usually just blokes in Santa suits catching Christmas-morning waves near Manhattan and Hermosa Beach piers. Scotland saves its energy for Hogmanay: Edinburgh street parties that run into the small hours, a mass singalong of Auld Lang Syne, and 'first-footing', where the first guest through your door after midnight (ideally tall and dark-haired, bearing whisky or shortbread) sets your luck for the year. Germans have a solution to gift-buying stress with Schrottwichteln, or 'junk Secret Santa' — everyone brings the most useless object they own, the more absurd the better. And in Cornwall, pubs host a 'shout', a packed, singalong evening of sea shanties and folk songs that peaks in the betwixt-Christmas-and-New-Year lull.

Why care? Because if you're travelling over the holidays — or spending Christmas away from family, as many of the editors interviewed do — these customs are your best route into a place. Time a trip to Lima for midnight fireworks, an Edinburgh Hogmanay street party, or a Krampuslauf in an Austrian Alpine village and you're not just visiting a destination, you're joining a ritual. Even the KFC thing is worth seeing first-hand; order early.