With Christmas just around the corner, towns and cities around the UK -and Canada too for that matter- begin to sprout outdoor Christmas markets like mushrooms on a cowpat. They pop up anywhere there’s space; row upon row of bland little wooden huts looking like the bastard offspring of a beach hut that’s had a one-night stand with a camp site toilet. I saw at least 6 different-but-exactly-the-same markets in the UK last week, scattered morosely around London, York and Harrogate. My wife and I are divided on the attractions of the seasonal markets. She loves them; me, less so..
Stalag Luft Weinacht
Vancouver has its own version. Unlike the European markets which are vaguely welcoming, ours is walled off behind a wooden perimeter fence so the revellers can’t stumble into the downtown core with their dangerous earthenware mugs of toxic glühwein. It feels a bit like a WW2 prison camp that’s been dressed up with tinsel; the camp speakers playing endless carols to soften up the inmates for interrogation.
I know I know. Bah humbug, right? What a miserable bastard I am, but I can’t lie. I find the ersatz festiveness profoundly annoying. As one newspaper noted, the markets are made to resemble a Bavarian village in winter – but only if you’ve never been to Bavaria.
Sausages
And they all sell the same old tat. There’s invariably a miserable sausage man/woman who must spend at least one month of each year being followed by packs of hungry dogs. They sell grilled bratwurst-and-fried-onion rolls, which I will admit to having a weakness for so long as the wurst is decent. Just next door will be another weather-beaten beach hut, occupied by a resentful trader pouring mugs of overly sweet mulled wine that rots your teeth the moment it passes your lips.
And then there’s the craft soap vendor -mm mm..is that organic cranberry-oatmeal-cinnamon-citrus-peel-pachouli I smell? Don’t forget to visit the spangly Christmas tree bauble hut with cheap, spinny foil things.
York market had the best vendor I’ve seen so far. An “artisan wood carver” selling polished wooden mushrooms and malevolent, demonic carvings of..of…well.. see for yourself. The toilet sign was a nice touch. How festive.
Anyways, enough Grinchiness. Rant over.
Don’t Forget
Don’t forget that blogs aren’t just for Christmas. They are there, all year, needing to be fed and watered and loved, yet somehow full of misplaced self importance. If you still think I have any vestiges of humanity left after trashing Xmas markets, you could send me an early Xmas gift by subscribing to urbancrows.com via the dull subscription box that I festively placed near the top of the page. I’ll be sure to email you more holiday-season related drivel every December, and I’ll even write to Santa for you. Promise. (psst- kids…he’s not real…)
