JoEllen has some things to get off her chest. . . so she has written this post in the first person singular. We thank you for indulging her.

As I get ready to visit the famous Christkindlmarkt in the park at Vienna’s Rathaus, I try to recall the very first Christmas market I ever saw. It should have been in Innsbruck when I was nine. We lived in a spacious apartment above the post office in the village of Lans bei Igls, up on the Patscherkofel, one of the Tyrolean Alps above Innsbruck.
But of course the James H Zumberge family actually spent Christmas that year of 1960 in Monte Carlo.
What a bizarre place for a lowly professor, with wife and four children in tow, to find himself and his family on Christmas!
I remember buying what I thought was play money for my brothers as Christmas gifts. I could not understand why each piece of paper cost me an entire French Franc (each brother got only one piece of play money). I had no idea it was a Lottery ticket I was buying from the outdoor kiosk – it just looked like fun, fake money. And Christmas was something else:
There was a US Navy destroyer and submarine in port that week. We went to visit them just before Christmas. The Captain and crew of the destroyer were so excited to see actually American children on Christmas Eve, they invited us for Christmas Day breakfast. My oldest brother, John, was in heaven: they put a plate of steak and eggs in front of him. We didn’t hear from him again for almost ten minutes! We were just happy to have Americans to talk to during the meal. I think all the crew fell in love with my mom. (She was a babe then – barely 35 years old and built).
But I digress.
Talking about Christmas markets:
Munich is probably the first time I actually visited one. But there have been others: Cologne, Frankfurt, Kingston-Upon-Thames, Bergen Norway; Bratislava of course; we just missed one in Tallinn Estonia.
And wonderful Vienna.

I revisit the time in the late '80s when Mom and I visited Vienna just before Christmas; and ‘discovered’ the Christmas market on the grounds of Vienna’s town hall, or Rathaus. We were due to have dinner in the Rathauskeller (a typical eating tradition in Germanic and Scandinavian countries, where perhaps the first restaurant in every town or village was located in the town hall, often in the cellar, or keller).

The lights, the gemütlichkeit, hot spiced wine, sausages, the baubles and wooden toys were just simply wonderful to behold.
It was during this trip we attended a performance of the Vienna Boys’ Choir in their home theatre, the Royal Chapel in the vast Hapsburg Palace (a palace that perhaps puts the Louvre to shame in size and imperialness).
We attended a musical comedy (in German) at the Volksoper (People’s Opera). This was not a production we would see in the U.S. most probably: it was called The Tour Guide, though in German, Die Fremden Führer. You understand why.
Sorry, I keep digressing. I’m thinking of (and missing) my Mom. We had a GRAND time in Vienna then.
I brought my camera this time in hopes that my memories are still accurate.
They are.

Not a lover of crowds, I am fortunate that this evening is rainy – it keeps them back some. But the quality of goodies for sale – both food and stocking stuffers – is as good as I remember.
The difference between now and 25 years ago is the increase in number of markets all around town. The gardens between the Art History and Science Museums also boast a large market. There’s a smallish one under a covered pedestrian zone one street over from the Ring Straße, where you can find mostly edible goodies – life-size marzipan ‘fruits’, home smoked bacon (haus geraucht speck) and other Austrian delights. There is an old, bearded man selling his hand-carved nativities and other wooden wonders. He reminds me of the “grandfather” in the Shirley Temple version of Heidi.
But now I move on to the market in Bratislava.
Vienna is roughly four times the size of Bratislava, which is a city of half a million people. And I'm pretty sure there is only one Chrismas market.
But Bratislava has something the Austrians don’t: carp!
Live, swimming around madly in little kiddie wading pools just waiting to be snatched up for the bathtub at home, where they live until Chrismas Eve day.
Then a deadly whack! on the head so they can end up on the Christmas Eve dinner table as the symbolic meatless dish. (No meat before midnight, then you can dig into all the pork you want).
The carp don’t show up, however, until the last week before Christmas: adults don’t want their kids to get too attached to the pet fish swimming around in the bathtub, not to mention the ban on baths while the fish is in there.
There is a big skating rink right out in front of the Opera House with a giant tree under which skaters can rest their weary ankles.

Tonight, the sky is crystal clear and the temperature is a balmy six degrees centigrade.

Bratislava is out in force tonight in and around the Old Town Square (Staré Mesto). Hand-crafted wreaths, wooden toys and cooking spoons are on offer next to the tackier stuff that all markets have.


But Bratislava’s Christmas Market has a higher percentage of food and drink stalls. Tonight the aromas of honey wine, varené vino (hot mulled wine), sausages and venison gulash drift around the square. And the atmosphere is festive. People push baby carriages and have their dogs in tow. It’s party time.

I hate crowds.
I last about half an hour, take my photos, buy a couple of things then get the hell out.

Now I’m going to enjoy a cosmopolitan and dinner sitting down – while being waited on. None of this standing up spilling hot wine on my gloves and dribbling mustard down my nice cashmere coat. Nope, not for me.
The next chapter on Christmas markets will come next week, when our own village of Saint Anton (Svätý Anton) holds its own Christmas market at the castle.