Marché de Noël: Christmas Markets in Metz

The historic city of Metz is only about thirty minutes across the border from Germany…not that there is any longer a border, which if you haven’t been to Europe lately, you’d soon discover.  The European Union is pretty much under the economic thumb of Germany, except for Great Britain, and the northern European countries.  Sound familiar?  Anyway, drive to France or Belgium or Luxembourg, or any of many other continental countries and forget about showing a passport or answering a snooty border guard’s invasive questions.

Lorraine, where Metz sits  (the other big city is Nancy), has been the ball in a game of military Ping-Pong between France and Germany (including Prussia).  1870 – Advantage Germany.  1918 - Treaty of Versailles, advantage France.  1940 – Advantage Germany.  1945 – Game, set, and match France.

Lorraine even has its own Germanic language, although French is the legal tongue.  So, you’re saying, don’t keep me guessin’, Bro!  How many people speak this that and the other?  Well, about 20+ percent speak a regional dialect, but nearly everyone speaks both French and German.

Ok, ok.  So, let’s get to the Christmas Market part!  Why would anyone cross the border when there are so many Christmas Markets in Germany?

By the way, the French and the Germans have different names for their Christmas Markets, naturally.  Christkindlmarkt (German), Marché de Noël (French).

I’ll give you the best reason:  They’re different.  Different foods, different art & crafts, different atmospheres.  Plus, I like to hear the romantic lilt of the French language, which even makes ‘soup of the day’ sound like an invitation to follow mademoiselle back to the warmth of her fireside, wrestle on a bearskin rug, and sample all things French.

In the food department, the German markets have a lot more sausage, roasted meats, and beer.  In France, they lean toward crepes, wine, and cheese, made from either goat or cow’s milk in equal measure.  In arts and crafts, in Germany there’s a lot of woodcarvings, while in France find the shopper finds more woolens, ceramics, and jewelry.

Hot, spiced wine??  Glühwein!  Also, hot chocolate!

Gotta say, there’s not a hard and fast division.  But, rather than rattle on, let’s take a little tour of Metz’s fabulous Marché de Noël, or rather six or seven of them!

1 Euro is about $1.25

You can't go to Lorraine without stopping for some Quiche Lorraine!  Delicious!

Even the Russians get involved!

Mouth watering yet?

Tasty Nougat!

Going Down the Tubes! London

Unless you’ve spent time in a big city…I mean a REALLY big city, chances are you don’t understand the complexities of the transport problem.  Think of Los Angeles.  I had a friend who lived there, a music lover and concertgoer.  I figured he was pretty much in musical heaven.  Not so. From where he worked in L.A., it took him five hours to get to many of the venues.  But, L.A. has no underground metropolitan railway. 

Now check out London.  Huge city.  Bustling with possibilities.  Huge Metro system, known affectionately as The Tube.  In central London, you can get almost anywhere in thirty minutes or less…usually less.  Hey, the average speed of the trains is over 20 mph.  And on the Metropolitan Line, trains can reach 60 mph.  Try doing that in London traffic.

How big is the whole Tube setup?  249 miles.  So how does it rank in size?  Right behind Beijing and Shanghai.  Busiest in Europe?  Right behind Moscow and Paris.

Sometimes the distances are really short.  The trip from Leicester Square (home of discount theater tickets) to Covent Garden (setting for the film, My Fair Lady) only takes 20 seconds.  It may be the most popular 20 seconds in London.

We stayed on the southeast side of London, right near a tube station.  Matter of fact, I pick my hotel based on the proximity of a tube station and how many metro lines pass through it.

But, wait a sec.  I’m getting ahead of myself.  You probably don’t know how extensive the London Metro system is.  Here’s a glance:

The Piccadilly, Circle, Central, and District Lines pretty well cover the town.  Circle Line (London’s Oldest  circa 1863) makes you think it goes in a full circle.  Well, it did, but not anymore.

 The Tube system is dead easy to use.  Buy an Oyster Card and load it up with a few Pounds Sterling.  Any time you need to add more money, it’s also a no-sweat operation to check your balance and add more.  The cards are electronic and so are the card readers found in every tube station.

At peak hours, about 57,000 pass through the busiest station, Waterloo, and last year over a billion folks used the tubes.  With that many passengers, you know the tube system has GOT to be easy to use.

 Tube maps are also posted in every station, as are a list of the stops for each of the lines.

Trust me.  Even if you have never used the London Underground before, you won’t waste more than five minutes figuring it out.

But, what if you want to go to a specific location, Harrods Department Store, for example, and have no idea which tube stop is nearby? Just ask an attendant, or check your city map or guidebook.  All the big attractions list the closest tube stops.  When you finish your journey, the names of the big attractions are also posted, so you’ll know which exit to take.

What if you’re looking for that special pub, or that quaint little boutique?  The Internet will give you the tube stop.  For pubs, I also recommend a wonderful book, fancyapint, which gives reviews of hundreds of pubs, and also lists them (with a map) for each tube station.  For even the most convinced Beer-a-holic, there’s no reason to go without a brew, no matter where you are in London.

 Besides convenience and economical transportation, another reason to use the tube is the sheer history of the Underground system.  After all, it’s been around for more than 150 years.  During the Second World War, the tubes were not only used as air raid shelters, but as an aircraft factory that stretched over two miles.  The War Cabinet met in the Underground until their permanent bombproof quarters were finished.

Part of the Piccadilly Line closed during the war and treasures from the British Museum were stored there.

Here’s another tasty historical tidbit:  Aldgate Station (Circle and Metropolitan Lines) rests on a massive plague pit, containing more than 1,000 bodies.

Want to win a bar bet?  What are the tube station markings for the London Underground … the red circles, with a blue stripe through the middle called?  Roundels.

 What’s the only line to connect with every other line?  The Jubilee Line, built to commemorate Queen Elisabeth II’s twenty-fifth year on the throne, 1977. It wasn’t finished until 1979, which may hint at a universal truth about government workers.

Enough, we could go on and on about the longest, the first, the this and that.  Suffice to say, the London Underground is a marvel of convenience and safety.  I’ve already got my Oyster Cards ready for my next visit to my favorite city.

The Attendant, Coffee In a Gents Toilet: London

A somber day in London Town.  Cement sky.  Paving stones glistening.  An invitation to hurry, slip hard enough to show your soles, toss your arms to the sky on your way down,  and bust your ass.  In short, typically London.

So, I got up in the morning

And hurried without warning

Grabbed a coffee in the toilet

Made sure that I could boil it

...help me finish this country-rock ditty.  Feel free to add some “Taking Care of Business” and other apropos Bachman Turner Overdrive touches. 

Not referring to your normal toilet, of course.  Perish the thought.  I do have limits. At least I think so. This coffee toilet sits in London, on the corner of Foley Street and Great Titchfield Street, right outside the Crown and Sceptre pub. (Tubes: Goodge Street, Oxford Circus)

Follow your nose down the stairs, speaking of the coffee, of course.  Find yourself in an underground 1890s men’s room, carefully updated and restored, but mostly intact.  Order a coffee and some cake, plant yourself on a stool in front of one of the original, heavy ceramic urinals, and prepare to be impressed. The tiled walls are as they were, as are the overhead water closets.

Men’s room?  So, you think I’m kidding?  Hey, this is London and having coffee in a men’s room is as normal as seeing men with purple, spiked hair wearing $6000 Savile Row suits.  The Brits are surprisingly subtle in manner and couture, but once they go off the reservation, watch out!

So, I settled back and quizzed the baristas.  Neither of them Brits.   This Victorian era men’s room closed in the 1960s and sat dormant for some fifty years before a two-year deep cleaning brought it to bright and shiny perfection in2013.

But what about the coffee???  Damned if I’d want to sit in a old men’s room and sip black tar.  The Attendant sources it’s beans from London’s own Caravan Roastery, whose products are lauded as the best in London.

The coffee is smooth and full flavored. I drink my coffee with milk.  My companion ops for black.  Have to say, an excellent brew.

The noshes looked succulently tempting, but I held my grounds….hahaha

By the way, The Attendant was named runner-up Best Coffee Shop in London in 2013.

Only one drawback to The Attendant, no mens room.

Glimmering Ghost of German Autumn

I always thought of myself as a summertime guy.  Maybe the image is left over from blissful school days, Spring Break, icy beer, and romance on the beach.  Are those my memories, or somebody else’s?  Seems they were mine…now where was I?

Lived over a decade in a sunny clime.  Temps of 60ºF (16ºC) brought out parkas, gloves, and worries about your kids waiting in the morning cold for the school bus.  Most of the time it was year-round shorts and short sleeves. Central heating was optional. Air conditioning was not.

Now I live in Germany and I’ve come to look forward to the four seasons. 

Summer flashes by in a short burst, ending in wine fests and whole pigs roasting on an open fire.  Autumn takes over like a charging bull.  Hints of wood smoke tantalizingly curl and linger on residential streets.  Wool scarves are part of the uniform.  Warm rain turns to cold rain.  Clouds mask the sun.

I help my neighbors stack a big supply of chopped wood.  Oak. Cherry. Elm. Takes four of us, working rapidly for forty minutes.

My garden is gone, replaced with naked brown stalks and half naked trees.  The last faithful blooms try their best, but it’s only a desperate act of charity.

A field of winter grass grows next to dead corn stalks

Some days the sun teases, but soon disappears at the slightest excuse.   I walk down the narrow roads, trails, and footpaths.  Beautiful color abounds, but soon the tree limbs will be only black scratches against a wall of cement gray clouds.

Ever wonder why the leaves change color?  Here’s a short answer: 

“…in the fall, because of changes in the length of daylight and changes in temperature, the leaves stop their food-making process. The chlorophyll breaks down, the green color disappears, and the yellow to orange colors become visible and give the leaves part of their fall splendor.

At the same time other chemical changes may occur, which form additional colors through the development of red anthocyanin pigments. Some mixtures give rise to the reddish and purplish fall colors of trees such as dogwoods and sumacs, while others give the sugar maple its brilliant orange.

The autumn foliage of some trees show only yellow colors. Others, like many oaks, display mostly browns. All these colors are due to the mixing of varying amounts of the chlorophyll residue and other pigments in the leaf during the fall season.”

If you need the full explanation, here’s the link. http://www.esf.edu/pubprog/brochure/leaves/leaves.htm

Here's another thing that robs me of sleep:  Why do we have two names for autumn, or fall, or autumn, or....?  Autumn comes from French (autumne) and farther back, from Latin.  Fall came into the language in 16th or 17th Century England, probably because leaves 'fall’ and poets noticed.  Popular for awhile, but now is heard mostly in America.

Doesn’t matter what you call it.  This time of year, nature’s beauty astounds me.  I see what I was missing all those years in the sunshine.  But after a couple of cold ones,  I think back to Spring Break and icy beer and bikinis….aw shit, why do I do that to myself?