Stumbling through the dark hotel room and into the cold bathroom, I felt myself step into something sticky. Turning on the blinding bathroom lights, I saw what it was: beer and lots of it. There were bottles lined up around the tub, the sink and even the baseboard! I blinked the sleep from my mind, trying to recall the previous evening. I remember buying feta cheese. I remember searching for soft pretzels. I remember falling asleep when my head hit the pillow.
Where did this beer come from?
Tiptoeing softly across the rough hotel carpet, I bent over to examine LD. He lay passed out; prune-y fingers from sitting in the tub for hours, an alcohol-induced smile spread across his lips. Shaking my head, I slipped back underneath the covers. He had enjoyed the beer that Berlin so eagerly offered.
While sitting in the lobby, later that morning and partaking in the free internet, we faced a serious dilemma: whether to inform my mother from across the Atlantic that her beloved camcorder was slightly unavailable or wait. We opted to send an electronic message her way:
'Hey Mom- we're going to the Christmas Market in Nuremberg instead of Erfurt, like you suggested and your camcorder is gone. Love you!'
The train ride to Nuremberg was a great deal slower then we had anticipated. Not only we were moving at a snail pace, but it was rather crowded for a German train; part of the journey we sat on our luggage, elbow to stroller with Deutsche kinder.
We arrived in the Medieval town as light was failing. Maps everywhere directed us to the Christmas City.
As a small child, every Christmas my mother or grandmother would purchase us Christmas coloring books containing pictures of snug medieval towns draped in snow, with smoke rising from chimneys and colorful decorations. I remember my Christmases in that warm glow, smelling of cinnamon and clove, crackling fires and the sounds of Christmas carols. Walking through Christkindlesmarkt brought the memories of Christmases past back into view. Maybe it was the warm pretzel in one hand or the mug of Gluhwein in the other, but it was hard not to want every Christmas to be like this. No commercialization but rather homemade delights, no rush to finish a Christmas gift list at the mall just small stalls filled to the brim with handmade toys.Nuremberg showcased the marvel of Christmas.
