Sunday sees us fly to the US for the usual Christmas bash in Providence. I wonder if it’s as cold there as it has been here. I haven’t bothered to look.
Last weekend, we squeezed in a weekend trip to the Weihnachtsmarkt in Cologne. I’m not generally big on Christmas — being an atheist rather defeats the purpose — but even I enjoy the atmosphere of the Weihnachtsmarkt.
Somehow, it just doesn’t feel like Christmas without a chance to eat a gluttonous cocktail of Krakauers, crêpes and waffles, washed down by Glühwein, and then have it forcibly squeezed back out of you by the seething, swelling hordes that ooze like molasses through the narrow aisles of market stands. And I even got to push our pram up against the shins of these people, just for extra kicks.
And so it was that we drove across the border to our easterly neighbour, where I was once again able to publicly rape the German language without fear of retribution.
The weather stayed mercifully dry and it wasn’t too cold. Eloïse had a lovely time, especially on the merry-go-rounds at several of the markets.
I bought a pair of shoes and a couple of wooden candle holders for the dining table. Sarah bought quite a few things, making for a very successful shopping trip.
I’ve made it sound quite bad, but I had a good time. And I do mean it when I say that Christmas really wouldn’t feel the same without a trip to the Weihnachtsmarkt. Nowhere has quite the same atmosphere at Christmas.