Christmas markets helps those of us who live in Berlin endure the first half of winter.
In the middle of summer it’s easy to forget that Berlin is on the same latitude as James Bay. It’s impossible to forget it when November sinks in, with dark mornings and even darker afternoons, and cruel gusting winds that whip across vast flats of Russia and Poland to infiltrate my jacket and flat on Germany’s easternmost fringe.
November in Berlin is a time of denial, followed by long underwear and even longer faces, but we barely have time for our scowls to settle into permanent facial crags of gloom because the beginning of December coincides with this most cheerful of traditions.
Christmas markets date back to the Late Middle Ages in the German-speaking areas of Europe. They’re normally held during the four weeks of Advent leading up to December 25th, but I’ve noticed those dates creeping out by stealth, into grey November and even infant January.
You’ll find them in just about every town square. The better ones spill into neighbouring streets. Stalls sell traditional German Christmas ornaments, furry hats, and wooden toys. You’ll even find rock music posters, the kind that plastered the walls of 1980’s teenage bedrooms. Many markets have singing and dancing entertainers, too.
There’s a chill in the air, a scent of woodsmoke hovering around the edges, and enough food and drink to stuff even the hungriest turkey. The highlight is, of course, glühwein — hot wine spiced with cinnamon, aniseed, cloves, citrus, sugar, and sometimes a shot of brandy for extra warmth.
Hungry? Queue up for a hot grilled bratwurst covered in mustard and dripping warm grease. Follow it up with Flammkuchen — fresh stone oven flatbread, topped with creamy white cheese, green onion and chunks of meat. Then stuff in a few roasted chestnuts, a dozen bite-sized donuts, and at least one pretzel filled with cream cheese and chives.
At this point, you might think you’re full. But trust me, you’ll want a little something for the subway ride home. Got a serious sweet tooth? You’ll find strips of liquorice in a rainbow of colours, warm candied nuts, candied apples and candied grapes, sticky nougat, and that most traditional standard, old-fashioned marzipan.
Forget about fitness resolutions, they can wait until January 1st. Right now, you’re getting fit for a good long hibernation.
I’m not much of a Christmas person. We usually travel outside Europe at this time of year. But I do like the markets in Berlin.
Gendarmenmarkt is one of my favourites. Sure, it’s touristy, but the 18th century architecture around the square — the old Konzerthaus, the Französischer Dom, the Deutsher Dom, and the statue of poet Friedrich Schiller — gives it such a magical atmosphere at night.
You’ll also want to check out those little markets that only last a few days, like the one at Richardplatz, site of the old Bohemian village of Alt-Rixdorfer, founded in 1737 in what is now the district of Neukölln. The stalls are run by charitable associations and cultural groups, and you’ll find everything from Swedish glögg to vegan food, and even South American peanut soup, gently lit by hundreds of kerosene lamps.
The market in Spandau’s old town is also good, as is the big market in Potsdam, near Frederick the Great’s palaces.
I think the most romantic place in Berlin to jingle your bells is the Christmas market in front of Charlottenburg Palace, the rococo summer residence of a Prussian queen. It’s the closest one to our flat, and the market we visit most often.
I don’t know if it’s the outdoor drinking — a winter version of the biergarten Germans are so fond of — but Christmas markets will even put a smile on the typical Berliner’s face.
I’m looking at them a little more closely this year in the knowledge that I’ll probably never see them again. After nine years in this city (and fifteen years in Europe) we’re getting ready to leave the continent next month.
So cheers from Berlin, and Merry Christmas. I hope you have a wonderful day wherever you spend it.