Christmas Market Madness: France (Strasbourg)

Strasbourg calls itself the capital of Christmas. And while it certainly gives Germany a run for its holiday money, the Old World charm of the city is equally captivating. In fact, it’s probably the best example I’ve seen to date at blending modern with antiquity in an old quarter of a European city.

Getting there: 3.5 hours each way (including 4 stops, original schedule), Deutsche Bahn. I walked the 12 minutes or so to and from the market area.

The market: The main market—the Christkindlimarkt—was a lovely and festive setting. The rows of stalls were close enough that the awnings met and formed a weather-resistant roof. It was clear, however, that this market catered to tourists. Mixed in with the usual market fare were some rather cheap-looking trinkets.

The main difference I noticed in Strasbourg was a focus on gingerbread. Ornaments, food, gingerbread men dolls--they were everywhere.

Although the German/Austrian influence was palpable, for lunch I opted for a pizza baguette, which seemed to be more of a local market food staple. Then I wandered from the main market site to the cathedral, and visited three smaller markets scattered around the area.

On the right-hand side, just entering the archway, is a
large group of the rifle-toting cops that were everywhere. 

I felt like a kid in a candy store, wandering from street to street looking at the elaborate decorations on the outside of businesses and homes alike.

The sound of American blues music drew me to a side square, where a record player piped from the middle of a flea market featuring Old Europe antiques and modern U.S. imports.

I took the long way back to the train station, so I could enjoy more sights of the city, particularly as it grew darker and the lights spilled from the markets out over the water.

The trip: My original plan was to visit the main Christmas market, then go on a walking tour of the city. I even had time between the tour and my train back to Munich for any last-minute shopping if needed.

But before my train reached Stuttgart for my connection to Strasbourg, I already knew something was wrong. I always get a 15-minute reminder from my Deutsche Bahn app before my train departs, and I only had 8 minutes for this connection and no message.

Sure enough, when I left the train and checked the board, it simply said the train I was supposed to take was “not running today.” I took that in for about 10 seconds (is this a prank?) before racing inside to the information desk to figure out my options.

My one train with a reserved seat down to Strasbourg turned into a new itinerary involving three (!) regional trains, and an 80-minute later arrival. But my final connection lasted 20 minutes, so I figured I’d grab some food and be fueled up by the time I hit the Christmas market.

Turned out that time was needed to walk from the main platform to the regional platform 10 minutes away. Seriously. It was a loud, long ridiculous caravan of travelers with a mix of backpacks and big suitcases, trudging along snow-covered sidewalks and overpasses to wait for a two-car local train that was already jammed full of teens getting out of school.

So I happily hopped off the overstuffed train in Strasbourg, and was greeted with what would be a familiar sight the whole day—roving teams of police, always in three’s, one of whom carried an assault rifle.

In addition, vehicle traffic was banned from the island where the Christmas market was taking place, and anyone entering had to open their bags and coats for inspection.

While I appreciated the caution, I was still reconciling it with the fact that we’d had no passport check on the way in (nor would there be one on the way back).

As time ticked down, I reluctantly left the spirited Strasbourg streets and headed to the train. My seatmate was a young German who had been in Strasbourg for work. A photographer by vocation, he was clearly a comedian by avocation, and we bounced some ideas around for a character he was working on, then talked Christmas markets, our backgrounds, movies, TV, and differences between American and German culture.

It was a great way to pass the time, particularly when the train simply stopped and sat outside the Ulm station because there was someone on the tracks. In this case it sounded like someone actually wandering around that the police were trying to track down, unlike the “trespasser” announcements on my former Caltrain commute which really meant a train had hit someone.

So, it was an extra hour on the return trip, but much more enjoyable than the train-hopping I’d done earlier in the day.

Upon reflection: When I saw Strasbourg, I actually debated skipping the market, doing the city tour, and squeezing in the market before the train back to Munich. 

Then I remembered why I was there, and how much nicer the city would be in warm weather when I could come back and explore at a more leisurely pace. 

The holiday spirit was more of a win for me here; the markets themselves were nice, but not out-of-this-world.