Christmas markets are surely among Germany’s most favourite tourist attractions come December. In neatly organised buses, people from abroad are usually taken to the most famous markets to get expensive souvenirs and ginger bread hearts. Germans prefer those markets mostly for two reasons: to get ridiculously drunk on mulled wine or to enjoy the atmosphere. Or in some cases, both. So when you actually wish to get into a festive mood as a local, you usually try to avoid the larger cities and the huge crowds at the weekend.
For a long while, I had been without a lovely market to go to, as my favourite one had been replaced. Thus I was really glad to be shown a new one (well, new to me) by a friend in Siegburg, near Bonn. She had told me some time ago, that I could do with a little more fire in my life. I don’t suppose that was the reason to show me this medieval market, but I was instantly taken in by the atmosphere: this unhurried, peaceful and yet playful mood created by the sound of crackling firewood, the scent of conifer branches and the light of hundreds of flickering candles. Inspired by medieval markets, this one was a far cry from the blinking lights and loud music that you usually get in the cities. You could really take your time discovering different artisans selling lovely trinkets as well as useful commodities or just enjoy some hearty food and drink. Further delight was brought on by the musicians, artists, jesters and jugglers with their sweeping music and bawdy jokes.
So when surprisingly, a couple of days later, I had an unexpected day off, I decided to return to the market and take some more pictures. Taking some time wandering around and basking in all these lovely details, I finally went to the stage for the spectacle. I had a nice little spot in the crowd at the side of the stage, just close enough for a fixed focal length lens to make most of what little light there was. I was delighted with the simple but heart-warming character of the show, the jaunty music and fascinated by the juggler’s coordination skills. So while one minute I stood in the crowd gazing at Fin de Filou juggling, the next I was being carried on stage by his accomplice Lupus and told to remain standing still. When I had one torch after the other whizzing past my head, I looked up into the dark sky and pondered on occupational hazards.
Ultimately I ended up with an unusually big crop of pictures and raised adrenaline levels and am quite pleased with both. I could do with a little more fire in my life? Well, bring me a torch.
