Ich Liebe den Deutschen Markt

A buzzing excitement always fills me when I know that I am going somewhere I only get the chance to go to once in a blue moon. It is as if I’m a child once again.

Walking from the dirty, musky underground car park into the piercing night air I feel an incredible sense of wonder about what the evening has to offer. Slipping through Nottingham’s maze-like side streets under a light, warm and steady attack of rain I know I’m going to see some wonderful things here; things which could only be pulled out of a fairytale and set before our hungry eyes. I marvel at the possibilities of whether or not the cobbled street I walk on was once roamed by Robin Hood and his Merry Men in the distant and hazy past. As we snake in and out of the winding roads and masses of people, my companion and I discuss the things that may be at the German market, for this is where we were going.

Before I can take in another breath of bitter English air my eyes are transfixed on the first stall.

Fruit Kebabs? *confused face* I buy one and eat it… for testing purposes only

I hope the next stalls will have more German and little less uhh… fruit kebab.

Sure enough they do!

I swear my companion and I are becoming Hansel and Gretel. Our child-like eyes are hypontised by the sight of all that gingerbread…

Every kid’s Christmas dream! Underneath them are caramel nuts

Okay, now I am begininng to think we are a part of some sort of neo-fairytale. LOOK at all of those model toys… We are wide-eyed at this spectacle

There is probably nothing they don’t have here

The little girl in me aches for one of these… But have you seen that price tag?!

And back to the food we go…

Boiled sweets from Aniseed to Zallouh Root. Pick your favourite flavour!

I make off with one of these pretzels filled with Nutella…

Oh yeah, and a bag of caramel pecans.

I can’t resist! I would have sampled lots more but sadly my pockets aren’t deep enough.

***

So that was the tale of my trip to the Nottingham German Market and also my 50th post to you wonderful readers. You could call it the breadcrumb trail I left for all of you who may decide to come and visit it sometime in the future. I promise it won’t lead to a witch’s cottage made of gingerbread in the middle of a deep, dark forest!