Les Marchés de Noël

History, tradition, and commerce all converge in December for a phenomenon known as the Christmas Markets. (Les Marchés de Noël). The Christmas Markets spring up all over Alsace and Germany starting the first week of Advent. Each village will have their own version. Some last only a week-end. Others continue each and everyday from the end of November to the New Year. Some have the feeling of a local festival where the townspeople turn out to peddle their arts and crafts. Others have more the feel of the Indiana State Fair Midway with hucksters and peddlers and busloads of tourists.

Like all potentially profitable traditions, there is a bit of controversy over the Christmas Markets. Strasbourg at times will refer to itself as the "Capital of Christmas". I have a friend from Germany who sneers and calls this crass commercialism because "everybody knows that Christmas was invented in Germany". There seems to be a strong basis for the argument that the Christmas Tree came from Germany and Scandinavia. However, the first written records of Christmas Trees are to be found on the French side of the border.

Christmas trees were sold in Alsace in 1531. Alsace was at that time a part of Germany. Today it is part of France. The trees were sold at local markets and set up in homes undecorated....The oldest record of a decorated Christmas tree came from a 1605 diary found in Strasburg, France (Germany in 1605). The tree was decorated with paper roses, apples and candies.

I suppose a little friendly rivalry never hurt anyone. Though, by historical standards, it would be hard to say that France and Germany are friendly rivals.

Anyway, back to the Christmas Markets......

Strasbourg pulls no punches. The town is crammed with little wooden huts from which people sell Christmas ornaments, crafts, junk, woodwork, candles, junk, artwork, candy, quiltwork, lacework, junk, cookies, crepes, jams, jellies, pizza, and...finally... more junk. Don't get me wrong, all the junk is good junk. But it puts you into sensory overload pretty quickly. The town is a Christmas Machine. And, as testimony to it's success, the town is crammed with tourists from all over Europe. I think that, in December, French is the language that you will hear least in the streets. English (at least the British version), German, and Italian are heard all over. The public parking is filled with tour buses from Italy and Germany and the West of France.

Above, you see a picture of Strasbourg markets on a "slow day".

But even with the swarms of people, you can't ignore the charm. The streets of the city are decorated with lights and the old half-timbered buildings are decorated in all fashion. And it doesn't hurt to have one of the most magnificent cathedrals in Christendom as a backdrop. It really is quite pretty. You have to have a hard heart if this doesn't put you into the Christmas spirit.

Today, we went out of town toward the villages on the advice of some local friends. They have become a little disenchanted with the commercialism of Strasbourg and prefer the smaller, village markets that have a bit more authentic local charm. Kaysersberg is a small village that is in the Southern part of Alsace near the larger city of Colmar. It sits in the middle of the vineyards at the foot of the Vosges mountains. Kaysersberg is a typical, charming Alsatian village. Houses that date back to the 1500's, surrounding vineyards, old mill stream, beautiful old romanesque church, and a ruined château (castle) standing watch on the high ground.

I suppose on a normal day the city has about 5,000 inhabitants. On the week-ends of its Christmas Market I suppose it must be 5 or 10 times that. This is where the people who live in Strasbourg come to. The irony is that Strasbourg is much better prepared to handle 500,000 visitors than these small villages are to handle 50,000. But no one seems to mind.

The picture above shows one of the side streets in Kaysersberg. If it looks like it is cold, well, it was colder than it looks. It snowed like a blizzard for a little while. The wind came off the mountain and gusted down the streets. With every gust of wind you would heard the locals cry "oh-la-la" and scamper for a wall to hide behind. Honest. I'm not making that up.

Every story should end on a happy note. The picture above shows my baby after a successful day of hunting and gathering. The bags in her right hand contain the "prey" that were apprehended in the pottery and ornament booths. And so, with empty wallets but warm hearts, we return to Strasbourg to await tomorrow's arrival of Amanda.