As the saying goes, you’ve seen one, you’ve seen them all. In reality, after you have visited several Christmas markets in central Europe, they do seem to merge a little after some years. No doubt, time and Glühwein contribute towards this mellow “pastiche”.
Looking back, some memories remain more vivid than others, perhaps because they were unique even if inconsequential. Possibly scents which are most evocative and impel the most vibrant memories: Like the smell of varieties of pine fronds made up from a pallet of greens from crisp Lincoln to dusky velvet. Fragrant and refreshing. Memories of the Christmas market at the Feldherrnhall between the majestic Theatinerkirsch and the Residenz Palace in Munich. This area is dedicated entirely to the sale of Christmas trees – from little bonsai to two metres high. They looked so lovely. They
beckoned me to take one home but I thought it would lose its needles even faster in our warm climate.
This also brings to mind Munich’s Rindermarkt, just round the corner from the splendid Marienplatz, which during Advent is entirely dedicated to the requirements of putting together a traditional crib; from all the nativity figures in every size to tiny details like Magi’s gifts. The top quality figures are miniature works of art, lovingly carved out of wood in the Alpine region. For the enthusiast, this is probably one of the best places in the world where one would find that final missing piece sought after for years. The adorable Baby Jesus figures beg you with open arms to pick them up and adopt one for the rest of your life.
The Christmas markets in provincial Hessen tend to be small and homely. In our former hometown, this was more like a family event. The entire community, including businesses which are mostly family-run contributed anyway as did the local banks and the political parties, Catholic and Protestant parishes and the schools. Each had their stand with either homemade or commercial goods. That was probably also my first lesson in learning how to dress up for the winter continental climate. The cold seeping through the leather soles of my high-heeled boots, gradually creeping up my body, taught me that if you had plans to stand out of doors for some time you needed sensible shoes with rubber soles.
Other fond memories of Advent are those set in the grand Rathausplatz in Hamburg in December 2002. For companions I had the cream of Maltese media – jovial company. Surprisingly a couple of journalists have no experience of Nordic winters. It was windy and freezing and that night the thermometer hit -19°C. Our hosts, the dynamic CEO of Lufthansa Technik Malta, Louis Giordimaina, and Aage Duenhaupt, PR manager “par excellence” of Lufthansa Technik Germany, had planned to start with a visit to the Christmas market.
It was a magical atmosphere – at least after a mug of spicy mulled wine on an empty stomach. The journalists in cotton shirts and light suits, more suited for a business breakfast at home, needed some extra mugs of Glühwein to acclimatise themselves. Some also opted to buy hand-knitted ski caps. It was all hilariously funny and I thought best to head for the nearest Bratwurst stand to douse some of the alcohol in fat.
I can still see St Nikolaus and an angel sitting in their reindeer-drawn sleigh floating across the night sky, suspended by hidden cables. Dinner followed in a fashionable hanseatic restaurant by one of the city canals. We must have been a crowd of 14, mostly Maltese, at table and certainly in a noisy mood. I kept thinking when the other patrons would start to complain. Then Maria Muscat, La Barocca, burst into an a capella interpretation of L’Amour est un oiseau rebelle or the Havanaise from Bizet’s Carmen. I thought, “That does it” now they throw us out! Instead a complete silence descended as everybody listened, mesmerised by Maria’s lovely interpretation. As the aria came to an end they burst into applause and bravoes.

Christmas markets in central Vienna
Kristkindl Markt in Rathausplatz and the Maria Theresien Platz, are in some way more associated with “chic” – probably because in the city centre the shops are so elegant and the decorations so opulent. Kaertner Strasse and Maria Hilfer Strasse were last year decked out with huge chandeliers. They lent ballroom richness to the traditional Christmas atmosphere. Walking beneath them after La Traviata at the Weiner Staatsoper – Norah Amsallem as Violetta and Joseph Calleja as Alfredo, in a dreamy haze still with Verdi’s compelling music and those glorious voices ringing in my ears, I thought one could easily transpose the opera’s sumptuous scenario from Paris to Vienna and exchange carnival with Christmas.
Salzburg brings back memories of petite Kristkindl markets with snow flakes on the wind. A Mozart Concert in the Festung Hohensalzburg, the fortress overlooking the town, followed by dinner by candle light music inebriating you with every step you make. Delicious memories of clove-scented Apfelstrudel sunk in hot custard.
If anybody asked where it’s best to spend a pre-Christmas holiday I could possibly opt for Stuttgart, capital of Baden Württemberg. The city is not large which gives it a certain cosiness missing in the larger cities. The pedestrian “King’s Way” is obviously decked out in decorations which lead you to the grand Schlossplatz where besides the traditional market there are also several marquees offering live music and art exhibitions.
My fondest memories are of the small town in the surrounding areas: Marbach, birth place of Schiller and Ludwigsburg, with a baroque city centre and a unique Christmas market. The most impressive remains Esslingen am Neckar. This town’s houses could easily make up a collection of coal port miniatures – impeccably kept timbered buildings on cobbled streets, overlooking canals decked in foliage. This is the setting of the annual mediaeval Christmas market where all the town folk, lords and ladies run around their business in period costumes. Each of the small town squares becomes the enclave of a particular trade: The blacksmiths, the potters, the cobblers and tailors; each artisan or craftsman plying his particular trade and offering goods for sale. The jugglers, jesters and minstrels add to the merriment.
And again the scents: pine needles, bees’ wax and wood smoke, nutmegs, cloves and ginger bread, dripping sugar cane and cinnamon sticks in warm red wine. Star anise, vanilla, marzipan and fondant chocolate. Oranges, tangerines and apples as red as cherubs’ cheeks. Roast chestnuts and candid almonds. Fresh hay cradling a little baby boy. Fond memories of my favourite things.