A German Christmas

A Miniature German Christmas Market

Crowds smoother me as haggard Christmas shoppers push by each other, peering and haggling. Normally I love to browse the St Lawrence Antique Market. The most amazingly cute little unique gifts can always be found amidst the rows of junk and tangled up masses of gaudiness. This time, nothing peaks my interest. The greasy sting of french fries and gravy pierces my nostrils and makes my breath catch in my throat. The falling snow outside draws the Sunday wanderers inside to cramp out us serious shoppers. Tiring of the heat, the noise, and the dismissed tones of the buyers and sellers, I bulldoze through and out, willing to bear the snow in relief of the staleness of the inside.

The cold crispness of the outdoor air pokes at my eyes. I look around quickly and notice with a giggle the vendors forced outside to hawk their wares, desperately trying to keep the relentless snow from masking their goods. I wander aimlessly gratefully inhaling the cool air. I notice something different. Funny little wooden booths I had never seen before set up in the courtyard. Curiously I look closer and I am surprised to overhear a young couple chatting to a vendor, in German. I eavesdrop quite blatantly trying to pick out a familiar word or two. I casually survey the merchandise, smiling with glee as I notice beautiful handcrafted golden sparkly candles, proudly adorning a sticker, ‘Hand Crafted in Germany.”

Wow, what I coincidence, I think to myself as I continue to wander throughout the miniature man-made village. More and more tiny wooden shops spill out with farmers sausages, roasted almonds, mulled wine sold in little ceramic cups, little wooden men spouting special Christmas incense from their nostrils as the merry sounds of German music fills the air. I am filled with glee and wonder happening upon such a delightful scene. I am tantalized by the sampling of Chriftftern, Spiced Wine out of a little plastic cup and can’t resist shelling out the $6.95 so I can rush home to share it with my very own German love. I peruse, sampling Austrian fruitcake that surrounds my mouth with a cornucopia of sensations and sweet crunchy tastes. I chat miserably in broken German with three German girls visiting here on student’s visas to learn English. They give me a great tip for the perfect German Christmas present and try vainly to teach me to say Merry Christmas. I feel so excited to have found this little enclave and am only saddened about my limited funds not allowing me to buy more.

It seems like this little rarity that has thrilled me, is a common occurrence in Germany. There, open air Christmas markets are enhanced by brass bands, choirs, and even Ferris wheels and miniature trains pulled by real steam engines. The City of Stuttgart, dedicates the ceremonial square in front of its Neues Scholl (New Palace) to a fairytale land for children. The tots meet Cinderella, Snow White, and Little Red Riding Hood, having their own fun, while the adults sip on steaming mulled wine. Cologne has Advent Cruises on the Rhine, aboard a refurbished side-wheeler, the MS Groeth, providing afternoon tea, more festive libations and the appearance of St Nicholas. The Franconian city of Wurzburg prides itself on its Old Town artisan market, where you can buy anything from hand made candles, glass balls, dolls and teddy bears to hand knit socks, gloves and dolls clothes. Most Christmas markets operate seven days a week, most until 8pm some staying open later. Ready for the first Sunday of Advent, December 1, this year, the markets stand shoulder to shoulder, leaving only narrow, medieval size alleys between them. Hundreds of light strung between the booths create an air of intimate splendour.

I feel lucky to have happened upon Toronto’s own little celebration of Germany. I will definitely make a trip back here before they close December 22.