I experienced my first Czech Christmas dinner way back in 1996. It proved one of the more shocking of culture shocks! In the UK I had grown accustomed to the belly busting tradition of a huge Christmas feast; Turkey, roast potatoes, sausages, bacon, brussel sprouts, parsnips, roasted chestnuts, bread sauce and gravy.

What I was served, all those years ago… was a fish.

I’m not complaining! The food was great, the welcome warm and generous but it says something about a Czech’s opinion of the humble Carp that he thinks it worthy of the most important meal of the year. It got me thinking, what does the Carp make of all this?

Diary of a Christmas Carp.

2nd November. Out swimming with the boys.

13th November. More swimming

27th November. Swimming again

1st December. God I love swimming

10th December. Surely there can be no greater pleasure in life than a good swim

16th December. Only managed a short swim today before me and the lads were taken out of our big lake. We’re on our way to a place called, Christmas…

17th December. We’re all squeezed into one tiny pool. No room to swim! No fun at all.

18th December. Great news. Half of the others have left so there’s more swimming room.

19th December. Hardly any of us in the pool now. Made a new friend, Barry. He thinks swimming is rubbish. Barry is going to be a professional Baseball player. He says that’s why we’re here. He’s seen this man carrying a bat. Christmas is clearly a place where they hold baseball trials. Gosh, Barry is great. I want to be just like him. If only I knew what baseball was?

20th December. Barry explained the rules to me and I spent all night worrying my fins are too small to catch the balls… The man with the bat came to pick who was going to try out next. He picked Barry. Damn it, he saw my small fins. Barry is such a lucky bastard…

21st December. It’s only me left here now. Surely I’ll be next! Finally the man with the bat came for me. Finally I get to show what a small finned fish can do. However, just as I was about to get my chance to shine a lady stopped the game. Spoilsport! She took me to her house instead. I’m now in something called a bath. There’s enough room to swim a bit but my mind is made up. I want a career in professional Baseball. The crowds, the adulation, the product endorsements. I’m determined to become the World’s most famous fish athlete…

22nd December. Really thought I’d get to play today. The lady brought a man in to see me. He had a bat too. Probably a talent scout. Unfortunately they couldn’t decide who would play. In the end they had an argument and left. For goodness sake, I know I’ve got game, just give me a chance. Did some swimming to take my mind off things but it’s not the same.

23rd December. In the middle of the night the man came back with a friend. They both seemed very happy. They were singing. The man fell over and the other man laughed. They took me out of the bath. At last my destiny is at hand.

24th December. I am so depressed. No professional baseball career for me. The man and his friend took me down to the river and let me go. Obviously small fins do not make for pro players. My dream is over but at least there’s plenty of room to swim. Maybe I do like swimming after all. Oh look there’s another fish to talk to. He’s bigger than me with long teeth. Wonder if he likes Baseball? Hope we’ll be friends…

Okay so the above is probably just a flight of Christmas fancy fuelled by Svarak and Grog. It’s more likely Carps don’t think at all… (Although there is no way to be sure.)

Perhaps it is because I’m a soft, sentimental Brit that I even suggest that Carps have feelings too? That they might harbour hopes and dreams like the rest of us. I do know it’s not just me. There are Czechs out there who release their ‘almost’ Christmas dinners into the wild so they might live free and be eaten by something else.

The first time I witnessed all those fish squeezed into the tanks, their blood staining the snow, it made an indelible impression on me. But let me just say I have absolutely no problem with this particular Christmas tradition. The truth is I won’t be liberating any Turkeys this year either. Seems I’m not all that fluffy hearted after all.

I love Christmas in Prague as much for its differences as the bits that are the same.

So a very Merry Christmas to everyone. Enjoy your dinner. Dobrou Chut.

(I’ll be having Turkey by the way…)