A GERMAN CHRISTMAS MARKET

Imagine this: a haze of red, blue and green fairy lights blurred by the rising steam from spicy, heady gluhwein.  The muted sound of a tasteful Christmas carol, sung in its native German.  Woollen clad shoppers huddled together like penguins.  The warm, sweet smell of hot doughnuts beckoning passers by, calling us over to sample them.

Imagine these things.  And yes, I was trying to imagine them as I sat in the back of a stationery taxicab, en route from Hamburg Airport to Lubeck.  The mist I saw was not that arising from gluhwein but that of the cars windows steaming up as the snowstorm began.  The lights were not fairy-like at all.  They were the tail lights of other cars, winking at me through the falling snow flakes of a surprise blizzard.  Not quite what I had envisioned.

The Lubeck of my imagination was a far cry from the reality of this white-hot traffic jam.  I was trapped on sheet ice, watching the silent dance of lorries jack-knifing and cars shimmying towards each other, bumpers kissing bumpers in unplanned and un-choreographed routines.

I eventually arrived safely in Lubeck and was welcomed in via the Holstentor, a twin towered medieval gate.  The gate was illuminated by the moonlight and appeared one moment as a magical form of transportation back over hundreds of years, yet fleetingly resembling a huge bouncy castle, minus its children, standing forlorn against the night sky.  A strange, memorable contrast.

As I wandered the narrow streets, the Lubeck Christmas Market revealed itself exactly as I had imagined it.   Row upon row of stalls selling tree decorations, advent stars, tree lights, candle holders; all gleaming like festive jewels of emerald, ruby and gold.  All designed to enhance the perfect Christmas interior.  All designed to create their own special memories for the future, with promises to adorn our homes for years of Christmases to come.

And then a stark contrast.  Surely that could not be the harsh sound of a tinny rendition of 'Jingle Bells' emerging from someone's hat?  The traditional sounds of the market seemed to recede as I looked at the cheap red felt hat, complete with reindeer antlers and bells.  The wearer stood motionless as the hat sang its little Christmas heart out.  As the climax of the song approached, so as not to be ignored,  the antlers started to flap in time to the music, quivering as the manufactured singing voice attempted a shaky vibrato.

It was impossible not to laugh - as the hat, as it began its unrequested encore - and at myself as I queued up to buy one!

The Lubeck Christmas market was certainly full of surprises.