Strasbourg, Capitale de Noël

The boys, playing cards on
the train ride out.

I've been looking forward to this weekend for a long time.  The city of Zürich grants its parents permission to two days of absence from school each year, and so we decided to take them up on their offer.  Today we set off on four-day vacation, which began with a visit to Strasbourg.

Dennis and I have been to Strasbourg together twice before, once in 1999, when Dennis had just graduated from college, and again in 2002, while I was pregnant with Ella and Dennis had been invited to a conference in France. As far as European cities go, Strasbourg suits the two of us very nicely. It's an adorable, entirely walkable city, with wonderful food and ciders. And they'll happily speak German to Dennis and French to me.  We've been looking forward to going back this year, particularly since Strasbourg is only a two-hour train ride from Zürich.

But, after a little research, we decided to postpone our visit until now, because this weekend was the grand opening of Strasbourg's annual marché de Noël, their Christmas Market. These markets, like the one we visited yesterday evening in Zürich, are held in cities all over Europe, but they all have their roots in Alsace: Strasbourg's market has been held since 1570.  The original event was always held in the shadow of the Cathédral, but within the last couple decades the market has far outgrown that little plaza: there are now twelve little sub-markets, spread out across the city, as well as concerts, and ice skating, and city tours, and anything else the city could dream up to draw in the tourists. It sounded like something to see.

We left quite early in the morning, but not early enough: the train we hoped to catch pulled away from our station as we'd approached.  We'd given ourselves enough of a cushion that we weren't at risk of missing our connection, but we didn't have the free time in the station that we'd hoped for, to pick up pastries for breakfast.  Dennis solved matters by walking one train stop up and buying us breakfast at our favorite bakery while the kids and I read stories and waited the twenty minutes until the next train.  We did have to walk a little faster than we would have liked to catch our train, but once aboard, we found our way on to an essentially empty family car, where the kids could bounce around on the playground after we'd stuffed them with chocolate croissants.

For our next train, we had reserved seats on a TGV, and it turned out to be very good that Dennis had had the foresight to order us those tickets: there were a lot of sad-looking people standing in the ends of the aisles.  But we enjoyed our ride, particularly Ella, who found the stylized red- and orange-velvet seats of our car very much to her liking. As she noted, approvingly, "It's almost first class."

Our train pulled in to Strasbourg right at lunchtime. Before doing anything else, we decided to get some crêpes and galettes from the Christmas Market stalls right outside the train station.  Since we were in France, Dennis decided to let me do the honors, ordering. But I found, to my great annoyance, that all my French is becoming jumbled with my German: when I missed something the vendor said to me, "Entschuldigung" slipped out before I could stop myself, and then I and proceeded to order order "vier crêpes au sucre, s'il vous plaît." At that point, the crêpe seller decided to switch to German. Bah! I did just about as well checking us into our hotel.

Since we had to tote our baggage, we stayed very close to the train station: from there, we walked to the Grande Île, the island in the middle of the river Ill that is home to the city's old town.

Joey almost lost something, too.

As he often does while we go for long walks through cities, Alex amused himself by looking for "special things" in the cobblestones, little discarded bits of shiny junk.  This time he was rewarded by finding someone's pants button, and he happily clutched it as we walked.

But his joy was short-lived: when he joined his sister in throwing leaves into the river, the button slipped out of his hand and tumbled into the water. Alex was immediately hysterical, inconsolable. He didn't want to budge from the spot, a high bridge, begging me to retrieve his button. I told him that the only way this would be possible was for me to take a SCUBA-certification class, and then find someone in the city who would rent me a wetsuit and other gear and, even then, we were unlikely to find his lost button.  But Alex was willing to take his chances: "That, momma! I want you to do the diving thing!"

Tearfully, whining, he informed me, under no uncertain terms, that he would be having absolutely no fun for the rest of the day.

And he did seem to be determined to be miserable: we found a large playground at the entrance to the Grande Île, but Alex refused to even look at it.  Instead, he planted himself next to the river, where he knew his button must be, somewhere.

Alex, slowly lowering himself to the water: I think he might have jumped in if we hadn't stopped him.

All better now.

But we managed to save our day at the Christmas market. On trips like this, we usually let the kids pick out a small souvenir, since those little tangible things help young minds remember special days.  Ella was drawn to a stand selling crystals, and lo and behold, the had a small collection of crystal buttons.  Alex brightened immediately, and he spent several minutes picking the most rainbow-y of the rainbow buttons, his treat for the day, and taking no more chances, zipped it carefully in the breast pocket of his coat.

Notre Dame Cathédral, and the market stalls and decorated buildings leading up to it.

I'm so glad that Alex managed to cheer up after all, because there really was so much for a little kid to see and enjoy in Strasbourg. The buskers were out, of course, and we spent some time watching this man, who is playing a Swiss Hang, a percussion instrument that was developed in Berne only about ten years ago and is only produced by a single shop in that city.  (There's a little footage of the music, in the video that follows.)

And, of course, the market stalls were alluring, although the first-day weekend crowds pushed on us as we stopped to look at this and that.  Since Dennis and Joey could have cared less about scented soap and Christmas ornaments and sun-catchers and statuettes and all the other bric-a-brac that was on offer, the two of them stayed out of the crush and played in the shadow of the cathedral.

The other two kids and I didn't last much longer.  We'd intended to do most of our Christmas shopping at this market, but it was simply too overwhelming, so, after getting myself a couple of postcards to hang in my kitchen, we decided to give up on shopping and just enjoy ourselves instead. The only other things we bought that afternoon were some some pâte de fruits (the fruit-flavored jelly candies that are a regional treat) and tickets for the city carousel for the kids.

And, after that ride, we retreated from the crowds entirely, finding a bistro with a kid's menu and tucking ourselves in a table inside. The service turned out to be painfully slow, but Joey had fallen asleep in Dennis's arms, and the kids were content with watching an ice skating competition on the television, and, later, with playing games of life and checkers while Dennis and I munched on the Alsatian sausages and sauerkraut that were our very early dinner.

Pacing ourselves

Yawn! Our late night and early
morning catches up with Dennis

Even after recharging for so long, the kids were clearly tired out, so we decided to wander slowly back to our hotel.

Every storefront in the city was decorated, and
the streets and markets were lined with these
flocked pines. It was incredibly pretty.

This is the city's Great Tree, in the Place Kléber.
It was to be lit for the first time this evening.

And so we wandered home, taking a slightly different route back.  I nipped into a French bookstore for a few minutes, picking up some young adult books and condensed classics that will, hopefully, save me from forgetting my French entirely. We bought the kids a little bread to nibble on through the evening, and let the walk back slowly, looking at the window displays.

We had a weird hotel.  Our first room, a long, winding thing that I think might have been two rooms at one point, could easily have accommodated our family of five (and even had five beds, one of which was a hidden trundle), but was listed and rented as a triple, so we had to get a second room as well.  Dennis and Alex claimed that one, but for the time, the kids all got cozy in the big room, and Dennis gave me a lovely gift: an evening out by myself, while the kids watched Santa Claus is Coming to Town.

It really was a wonderful treat. We'd made a point of staying the night in Strasbourg so that we could see all the pretty Christmas lights, and we saw quite a few of them on our way back to our hotel, but I was really hoping to spend a little more time outside, soaking in the atmosphere.

I spent many happy minutes listening to a Salvation Army band, wandered up and down the streets, and even ventured back into the market stalls, buying a few special things to bring home.  I'd been wanting to get a Weihnachtspyramide, one the little candle-powered tabletop windmills that are an iconic German Christmas decoration. The kids have been exclaiming over them for weeks–they're an engineering marvel!–but the ones I'd seen in Switzerland were prohibitively expensive.  I found a cute and affordable one, and, when I showed it to the kids, they were even more effusive than I'd expected: "Oh, thank you mom! Thank you so much!"

I also took a leap of faith and bought myself a handicraft that the vendor promised could be packed safely for shipping home to America and assured me would keep its colors for twenty years or more.  I love things made from nature, and this little forest sprite just spoke to me. Oh, and I also got a warming cup of Gluhwein. How could I not?

I finally made my way back to Place Kléber, just in time to miss most of the speeches that preceded the lighting of the Christmas tree.  They had a little children's choir singing, and a woman speaking, interestingly, on the long-time relationship between Zürich and Strasbourg. This year Strasbourg is starting a tradition of having a guest country come and represent themselves with artisans in their own themed market. Apparently there were Alphorn players roaming around the Swiss Village market today, as well, but didn't seek them out, having seen our share.

After that speaker, the Mayor of Strasbourg came out and welcomed everyone to the festivities and then led the crowd in a countdown to the lighting of the tree.  I have about thirty seconds of the mayor's speech in the video below, just because it does my soul good to hear a little French every now and again.  The next thirty seconds are the lighting of the tree, which really was pretty.

I hurried home right after the lighting to find the kids just finishing their videos. Dennis and Alex left for their room, and Ella closed herself in the bathroom to try to finish her homework for the weekend, and I did my best to coax Joey to sleep, but that long nap this afternoon had done some damage.

Joey has been experimenting, lately, with the fine art of negotiation: he's learned that, when he doesn't like my plans, I'll at least hear him out when tells me "Wait! I have an idea!" But sometimes, like tonight, he doesn't actually have anything to propose.  Stalling for bedtime, after he'd promised an idea, he was stumped as he tried to come up with him.  Only through tremendous force of will did I keep myself from laughing as he whispered to himself "I need an idea, what's my idea, an idea, idea, hmm, what's my idea." Finally he gave up: "Mom, can you help me with my idea?" At that point I reasserted that sleep was the best idea of all.

I was surprised, then, when he explained to me in his best words that he was feeling left out. "Daddy left and Alex left and they sayed 'no, Joey, you stay here!' and I always sleep with Alex and I miss him."  So he was lonely: for the first time in a long time, I cuddled my son to sleep.

That was at about 9:00: next it was Ella's turn. She'd finished almost all her homework and seemed ready for bed, but her feet were icy cold from the cold bathroom floor.  I asked if she wanted to snuggle a little and, cutely, she squealed "Oh, but I'd love that." So I cuddled kid number 2 to unconsciousness.

When I told Dennis all that the next morning, he compared my night with his. He and Alex had shared a double bed, and before they went to sleep, Alex lined remote controls along the middle of the bed, demarcating his side of the bed from Dennis's. I get it: we middle children feel the need to stake our claims, early and often.

At least, one way or another, we got three kids to sleep, to recharge for an even more exciting day tomorrow.