Imperia
Much ado about Munich
In a stall beside me lie unusual fruit in shapes I’ve never seen before, their exteriors bearing artistically drawn “faces” smiling out at passersby, urging you to stop and, if not buy them, at least take a picture that you can show folks back home.
A few feet away, delicious twisted pretzels hang from a baker’s stall and the irresistible aroma makes me lose my resolve. I’m torn; my heart wants to go in one direction; my stomach, in another. My eyes are lured by something sparkling ahead of me, but my feet move the other way.
This is what Alice must have felt like in Wonderland. This is Christmas in Munich.
Actually, I’m in the city a month before Christmas Day and locals tell me this is nothing; in the weeks leading up to the big day, the festivities will only get better. There’s talk of a nearly 100-ft high Christmas tree, adorned with 2,500 candles. There are enough international accents here to make it sound like the United Nations and the city will see more foreign visitors as the days go by.
There’s feasting and drinking as local Bavarian specialities make their way out onto the stalls and are devoured by hungry revellers. There’s the sinfully delicious bread-like stollen, rich with raisins and icing sugar; lebkuchen that looks like gingerbread but is actually a spiced cake, sold by the dozen and in various attractive shapes. Curious to try Glühwein, the local hot spiced wine, I eagerly take a big gulp, only to find I can’t claim to be part of the crowd that knocks it back effortlessly.