Of angels and agoras

merry Markets

Adazzling stroke of red light blinds my eye, but as I head towards it, I see the warm glow of a small fire. It is freezing cold and the temperature hovers around zero degrees.

My eyes follow the fiery glow where I see a stall filled with huge pots brimming with wine. But then, as I get used to the red tinge, I learn that this is not just the traditional mulled wine or gluhwein of Germany, but a spirited concoction of red wine, rum and spices called Feuerzangenbowle, prepared over a small burner. The locals tell me that it is called the ‘hot red wine punch’ and explain the recipe to me.

A pot is filled with warm red wine that is enriched with spices like cinnamon, cloves and orange peel, while a sugar-coated cone dipped with strong rum is placed atop it. A man stands pouring more rum on it with the cone lit by fire.

The sugar melts and is caramelised, while the hot rum drips into the pot, blending with the flavoured wine. I take a sip of the hot drink and it immediately warms my throat, making me feel light as I forget the cold.

It is not the alcohol that gives me a sense of high, but a spirit of a different kind that takes me into a world of angels and elves. It is Christmas season, and I have never seen Germany so crowded. Little wooden stalls, some going back to the 1890s sing an ode to quaintness.

The atmosphere is lyrical as angels blow the bugle. I am in the old town of Nuremberg, in their traditional Christkindlesmarkt — the Christmas market that is opened every year by an angel — Nuremberg Christkind.

It is her market indeed, the colourful ‘little town of wood and cloth’, which was opened to the people by the angel, a few weeks ago. I stand in front of the Church of Our Lady and am told that the angel first made her appearance on the balcony of the church to officially open her market. According to the historical tradition, the angel is elected by the people, and she officiates as the Christkind for a period of two years.

Walking around, I see the colourful wooden booths set up in the old town, showing views of the ancient Gothic church of St Sebaldus, the Holy Spirit Hospital, but the entire atmosphere is charged with energy and colour.

There are more than 180 stalls here with red and white-striped canvas roofs as angels sit atop and make merry. Every stall offers a taste of Germany and the flavour of Christmas. There are wooden toys, puppets and soft toys, glass candles, tiny figurines in ceramic and porcelain — all delicately handcrafted.

The nut crackers and the smoking men gaze at me in all colours. Tiny white angels smile at me from all corners. There are chocolates and fruit loaves, ginger bread and bakery items sold along with grilled sausages and mulled wine.

But the most delicious are the Nuremberg Plum People or the Prune People as they were called — the little men and women, figurines made of prunes, plums, raisins and figs. Apparently these are as old as the Nuremberg Christmas market itself.

As I stop by at a stall, I learn that the markets here are probably one of the oldest in Germany, with a written record dating to the 17th century. An inscription was apparently found on a bentwood box decorated with flowers that carried presents from the Christkindlesmarkt of 1628.

However, locals say that the market existed a century earlier as references have been made to the children of Reformer Martin Luther King receiving gifts from Holy Christ Child, probably a reference to the angel.

But it is not the Christkindlesmarkt that takes your breath away. I find very beautiful gifts sold at the Nuremberg Sister Cities Market, where one can go on a journey of arts and crafts around the world.

Soak in the flavour of Turkey with handicrafts from Antalya; there are pretty figurines from Prague and Krakow. In these 20 wooden stalls, one can travel to Atlanta in the US or Kharkiv in Ukraine or San Carlos in Nicaragua or Shenzhen in China, among other countries.

But the most colourful market that makes you feel a child at heart is the pretty market for kids. An old-fashioned carousel stands there as the children rush around the Ferris wheel. A small steam train completes the picture.

The wind pierces through the layers of clothing that I am wearing, but it brings along with it loads of Christmas cheer. I take a deep breath and soak in the flavours of bratwurst and gluhwein, while the medieval charm overpowers me. I walk back to the historical old square and the angel smiles down at me.