Our First Christmas Market Adventure: Germany & Beyond

Our First Christmas Market Journey – Frankfurt, Dresden, Strasbourg, Erfurt, Weimar & Idstein
November-December 2013

Part of the ‘Christmas Markets of Europe’ Series – A Travel Story by Rick Wetmore

The Invitation

It all began with an invitation from our daughter, who was living and working in Frankfurt, Germany. She wanted us to experience the magic of the German Christmas Markets firsthand. We had seen photos and heard the stories, but nothing quite prepared us for the atmosphere of twinkling lights, festive music, and the scent of roasted chestnuts and mulled wine drifting through centuries-old town squares.

Frankfurt Römerberg market at night
Frankfurt Römerberg market at night

Travel Overview

A concise summary of our itinerary and travel logistics:

ModeRouteDurationHighlights
✈️ FlightBoston → FrankfurtOvernightStaying with our daughter
🚗 Road TripFrankfurt → Erfurt → Dresden → Weimar → Frankfurt3 daysMarket visits & scenic countryside
🚄 TrainFrankfurt → Strasbourg (France)2 daysCrossing borders for a new tradition

Frankfurt Christmas Market – The Beginning

Our first taste of the Christmas Market tradition began right in Frankfurt, where our daughter lived. Centered around the Römerberg square and St. Paul’s Church, the Frankfurt market is one of Germany’s oldest, dating back to 1393.

Highlights: the giant Christmas tree, the historic carousel, glühwein (mulled wine), and festive stalls.

🎥 Watch our slideshow: Frankfurt Christmas Market

Erfurt – Cathedral Square Charm

On our drive from Frankfurt to Dresden, we stopped in Erfurt for lunch and to stretch our legs — and ended up discovering one of the most beautiful Christmas Market settings in all of Germany. Erfurt’s market fills the vast Domplatz (Cathedral Square), framed by the twin spires of St. Mary’s Cathedral and St. Severus Church that rise dramatically above the city. It’s a scene that feels lifted straight from the pages of a Christmas storybook.

The market itself had a wonderful, welcoming atmosphere. Rows of wooden stalls sold everything from hand-carved nativity figures to delicate glass ornaments. The air was filled with the scent of grilled sausages, roasted almonds, and the ever-present aroma of glühwein. A children’s carousel spun slowly in front of the cathedral steps, its music blending with church bells in the distance — a reminder that this was not just a festival, but a celebration of deep-rooted holiday tradition.

What made Erfurt special was its balance of grandeur and intimacy. It was large enough to impress, yet small enough to feel personal. Locals mingled easily with visitors, sharing smiles and warm drinks as the afternoon light faded into evening. Standing there, watching the lights flicker to life beneath the cathedral towers, we realized that each German market had its own personality — and Erfurt’s was peaceful, heartfelt, and steeped in timeless charm.

Dresden – History, Lights, and Tradition

Our next stop was Dresden, home to one of the oldest and most famous Christmas Markets in Germany — the Striezelmarkt, first held in 1434. After a long, cold drive from Frankfurt (and a memorable encounter with sleet and freezing rain along the way), we arrived to find a city glowing with Christmas spirit. Dresden’s market was everything we’d imagined and more — colorful, musical, historic, and alive with the scent of baked stollen and spiced wine.

The Striezelmarkt takes its name from “Striezel,” the original German name for the city’s beloved fruit bread, now known as Dresdner Stollen. In fact, the stollen is so central to the city’s holiday identity that it has its own festival and parade each December. Stalls throughout the square offered slices of the buttery, powdered-sugar-covered treat — along with handmade ornaments, nutcrackers, and the beautiful wooden pyramids for which the Erzgebirge (Ore Mountains) region is famous.

What stood out most was the sheer scale and craftsmanship. A massive Christmas pyramid, more than 45 feet tall, rotated at the center of the square — its tiers filled with carved angels, shepherds, and wise men. Nearby, a children’s market bustled with laughter and the smell of roasted nuts, while choirs sang from a stage near the Church of Our Lady. Every direction we turned was filled with light and life.

That evening, standing in the glow of the market with a mug of glühwein in hand, we both felt as if we had stepped into a classic Christmas card come to life. The combination of Dresden’s historic architecture, festive energy, and old-world charm left a lasting impression — one that would draw us back to Europe’s Christmas Markets again and again.

Weimar – A Peaceful Pause on the Road Home

After several full days exploring the festive splendor of Dresden, we began our return trip toward Frankfurt — but decided to make a stop in Weimar, a city long known for its cultural and artistic heritage. It turned out to be the perfect mid-journey pause, a quieter contrast to the larger markets we’d just experienced.

Weimar’s Christmas Market filled the historic Marktplatz, surrounded by beautifully preserved 18th- and 19th-century buildings that once inspired the likes of Goethe and Schiller. The square glowed softly under strands of golden lights, with a modest wooden Christmas Pyramid turning gently at its center. The air carried the familiar scents of roasted nuts, spiced glühwein, and sizzling Thüringer bratwurst, the regional specialty that’s impossible to resist.

Compared to Dresden’s grandeur or Erfurt’s cathedral backdrop, Weimar felt personal and unhurried. Locals chatted at the stalls, families lingered near small fire pits, and a children’s choir sang near the base of the old town hall. It was the kind of place where you could simply stand still, take in the lights, and feel time slow down.

As evening fell, we sipped our last glühwein of the trip, knowing we’d soon be back in Frankfurt — but also realizing how each stop along the way had its own rhythm and personality. Weimar was our gentle farewell to Germany’s Christmas season that year, and a perfect reminder that sometimes, the smallest markets create the warmest memories.

🎥 Watch our slideshow: Erfurt-Dresden-Weimar

Strasbourg – The Heart of Christmas

Our final stop on that first Christmas Market adventure was Strasbourg, France — a city that proudly calls itself “The Capital of Christmas.” After traveling through Germany’s markets, crossing into Alsace felt both familiar and new. The half-timbered buildings and twinkling lights carried echoes of Germany, yet the cafés, language, and flavors hinted unmistakably at France. It was the perfect blend of two cultures — and an unforgettable way to end our journey.

We arrived in Strasbourg by train and checked into the Maison Rouge Strasbourg Hotel, ideally located within walking distance of the markets. From the moment we stepped into the old town, we knew this was something special. The entire Grande Île — Strasbourg’s historic city center and a UNESCO World Heritage Site — had been transformed into a glowing wonderland. Streets shimmered with garlands of light, store windows sparkled with decorations, and every corner seemed to lead to another market square filled with music and laughter.

The main market in Place Kléber was breathtaking, anchored by Strasbourg’s towering Christmas tree and surrounded by dozens of wooden chalets selling ornaments, pastries, and local crafts. Each evening, a spectacular light and sound show illuminated the square, washing the surrounding buildings in color while festive music filled the air. It was impossible not to be swept up in the moment — the warmth, the joy, and the feeling that Christmas was truly everywhere.

Beyond the main square, smaller markets spread across the old town: the Christkindelsmärik near the cathedral, the market at Place Broglie, and countless little pockets of festivity tucked between narrow lanes. We wandered for hours, sampling Alsatian specialties — spaetzle, bredele cookies, and mugs of warm vin chaud, France’s version of glühwein. The air was crisp, the lights golden, and the sound of church bells echoing through the narrow streets made it all feel timeless.

Strasbourg was more than just beautiful — it was magical. Standing beneath the great cathedral, its spire reaching high into the winter sky, we both felt that this was the perfect finale to our first Christmas Market trip. It’s no wonder Strasbourg has held the title “Capital of Christmas” for centuries. When we finally boarded the train back to Frankfurt, we carried with us not just souvenirs and photos, but the realization that we’d discovered something special — a new holiday tradition that would keep drawing us back to Europe, year after year.

🎥 Watch our slideshow: Strasbourg Christmas Market

Idstein – A Local Gem

Our day trip to Idstein was a highlight for its local charm and personal touch. The town, known for its colorful, crooked half-timbered houses, is part of Germany’s Half-Timbered Trail. Our daughter arranged a walking tour through Frankfurt on Foot, a highly rated English-speaking tour company run by an American husband-and-wife team. We joined a group of American civilians and military families, meeting at Frankfurt’s main train station before taking the 45-minute regional train to Idstein.Once there, our guide led us through the picturesque streets and even arranged for us to visit the interior of the historic Union Church, famous for its beautiful 17th-century painted ceilings. After the formal tour, we had time to wander freely, enjoying lunch, chatting with locals, and sipping more of that irresistible Glühwein at the small but lively market. As dusk settled over the town, we caught the evening train back to Frankfurt — tired, content, and already planning our next Christmas Market visit.

🎥 Watch our slideshow: Idstein Christmas Market

Reflections

Experiencing these Christmas Markets together — with our daughter as our guide — made this journey deeply personal. Each city had its own traditions and flavors, but all shared the same spirit of joy, community, and timeless beauty. It was the perfect introduction to what has become one of our favorite ways to celebrate the holiday season. Looking back, what made this trip unforgettable wasn’t just the markets themselves — it was sharing them as a family, discovering local traditions through our daughter’s eyes, and realizing that every city, large or small, celebrates the same sense of warmth and wonder in its own way.

Looking Ahead

This trip was the start of a tradition that inspired us to explore more markets across Europe in the years that followed. Stay tuned for upcoming posts in the ‘Christmas Markets of Europe’ series — including Vienna, Cologne, Brussels, Innsbruck, Prague and others.

Gluhwein Cup

November 11, 1918 – My Grandfather’s Recollection from the Western Front

The Pandemic has taken a toll on our travel blog. Nothing to report since our last article in early March about our final days in Buenos Aires.

I thought it would be appropriate on this Veteran’s Day/Remembrance Day to share some of my grandfather’s writings about his experiences in World War One. I am fortunate to have inherited a treasure trove of his typewritten, hand illustrated stories.

ARMISTICE NOVEMBER 11, 1918

The following stories were written by my Grandfather, David Lee Wetmore who served in the Royal Canadian Dragoons cavalry regiment during World War One. He enlisted in Canada at war’s outbreak in August 1914 and served in France and Belgium fighting in battles that included Somme, Ypres, and Cambria. He returned to Canada in 1919 with his war bride (my Grandmother) he met in England.

The stories that follow were from typewritten pages, illustrated with his hand drawn sketches. He wrote these (and many more) during the 1940’s and 1950’s from his recollections. While these stories were not dated, they are obviously written about the events surrounding the Armistice while he was in an unnamed Belgian village. The French phrases in each story are my grandfather’s attempt at written French.

I was fortunate to find the daily war diaries of the Royal Canadian Dragoons on the Library and Archives of Canada website and can now provide the historical context of my grandfather’s stories. From these diaries, here is the timeline of the days leading up to 11 November 1918.

Nov 7…. Left Baralle (France) at 07:30 arrived at Cuincy (France) at 13:00 very dull day – men billeted in ruins of village – horse in open 

Nov 8-9…. Left Cuincy at 06:00 arrived Martinsart (Belgium) 10:00 – men in buildings and horses in open 

Nov 10…. Left Martinsart at 09:30 arrived at Peronnes (Belgium) at 20:00 – Belgians very pleased to see us 

Nov 11… Left Peronnes at 08:00 – “A” Squadron left Flank Guard to the Division – Regiment leading with ??? – Brigade halted at Tourpes (Belgium) at 10:40 – Cease Fire sounded at 11:00 – Everyone overjoyed but rather sorry not to be actually in touch with the Bosche at the time – returned Westward and spent the night at Haut-Trieux.

David Lee Wetmore 1884-1975
Served with the Royal Canadian Dragoons 1914-1919

In My Grandfather’s Words

OU FAIRE VOUS MESS’URE? We were following up the German retreat. The vaunted power of the Kaiser’s army was badly diminished, and a corporal and four men had been known to bring in a whole regiment of German prisoners. 

An old soldier by this time, I knew enough to carry an extra blanket rolled in my greatcoat, as the army’s slogan “one man, one blanket” was proving badly inadequate on these chilly nights. My right hand mate had crawled under the blankets with me and we had spent the night fairly comfortably, then getting up and underway again with the dawn in the morning.

But as we began to pass through the villages, more and more we were asked the question “Ou Faire vous Mes’sure. Le guerre finis”. About noon we were off saddled in a field while the officers attended a ‘pow-wow’. Idly we lay around, caught up on our sleep or played cards, expecting any moment to get the order to saddle up and move. After having been asked the question several times that morning, the liaison officer passes us and I asked him whether he had heard anything of what the villagers were talking about. He replied that there was a rumor to that effect, but that it was, as yet, unconfirmed.

TRUMPETER We were sitting around waiting for orders when the Colonel came rushing out of a gang of officers who had been ‘pow-wowing’ all the time we were in there, at a telephone station, roaring for a trumpeter. Thinking that we were about to move out we all started scrambling around for our gear, when the trumpeter instead of the ‘Boots and saddles’ that we had expected, sounded ‘Cease fire’.

We were all so fed up and disgusted that for a moment, nothing happened. Le guerre, indeed, was finis. But just for the moment, it didn’t register, there was no outbreak of cheering, no demonstration of any sort. We were just so eternally disgusted with everything that nothing mattered any more.

YOU HAVE DONE ENOUGH FOR BELGIUM  When we stabled the horses that night the civilians came rushing into the stables. They would not allow us to do anything. “You have done enough for Belgium” they said “Belgium now does for you”. They seized the brushes, pails or whatever we might have in our hands as we were doing the necessary work of seeing our mounts taken care of, out of our hands. “Merci Dieu vive le Canadien” they said, and we were forced, much to the sergeant’s disgust to stand with our hands in our pockets while the civvies took care of our horses.

DANCING IN THE STREETS There was dancing in the streets of the Belgian village that night. We had scarcely eaten our supper when the local beauties, arrayed in their best, dragged us out “Allez: Allez le dance” they said. And we danced in the streets, where huge blazing fires had been lighted, until early dawn. Even the good priest had attended, though I don’t remember that he danced.

We could scarcely find it in our hearts to blame them. They had had their faces ground into the dirt by the arrogant German Soldiers for too many years now to let anything interfere with their pleasure. And they were a pleasure-loving people.

All night long, as we danced to the music of a local fiddler, doing his best, the village rang with cries of the villagers “Vive le Canadien” “Merci Dieu”. With a girl on each arm, dressed in the finest she had, we kept the celebration going until early morning, nor were the girls loath to stay as long as we would. 

EVERY DAY IS WASHDAY The Belgian villagers just couldn’t do enough for us. Having a small washing I wanted done one morning, I approached the good lady of the house asking if I could get it done. “Oui, Mess’ure: she responded cheerfully. “When can I get it?” I asked “Tonight, mess’ure” she answered “But” I said “This is not washday” “Every day is washday, mess’ure” she said “If you have washing to be done”.

A Badly Frightened Man Shortly after the Armistice, we were following up the German retreat when we received word one afternoon that a German straggler was hiding in a barn a few miles away.

I was sent with a small detachment to bring him in and turn him over to the authorities.

When we reached the village, we found an excited mob of villagers milling around the door of a barn.

We went in and after a short search, found the man cowering behind stacked bales of hay at the back of the barn.

We took him out, formed a hollow square with the horses and placed him in the middle of it. He was the most badly frightened man that I have ever seen and well he might be. If those villagers, armed as they were, with pitchforks, axes, clubs, any weapon with which they could do damage (one woman had even brought along an iron ladle) had they ever got their hands on him, they would cheerfully have torn him limb from limb.

Remembering the Cathedral of Notre Dame in Paris

It is so sad to see such an important cultural and historic site ravaged by a devastating fire. As of this writing (Apr 16, 2019), the day after the fire, officials are assessing the damage and while excessive it appears that through heroic efforts of fire fighters and others, important art and artifacts were saved.

The loss of this beautiful cathedral is a blow to the French people as well as all of us who cherish our culture and history.

While the damage is extreme, there is a commitment from the leaders of Paris and France to rebuild and it appears that significant donations are already pouring to support that effort.

After standing tall for over 800 years, through some of the most important historical periods, the Cathedral of Notre Dame may rise again, but I suspect it will be a very long process and the restoration may not finish in my lifetime.

Fortunately, I have had the chance on two occasions to visit Notre Dame Cathedral, once in the Fall of 2010 as part of a Viking River Cruise and again last year, ironically, one year ago to the day of the fire, April 15, 2018.

I want to share some of my pictures of Notre Dame Cathedral from my past visits.

From our October 2010 trip

DSC_5920DSC_5924Paris-5912-HDR_WebParis-5916-HDR_WebParis-5937-HDR_Web

 

From out April 15, 2018 visit

Paris-20180415_102851-HDR_WebParis-20180415_103949_AuroraHDR2018-edit_WebParis-20180415_104145-HDR_WebParis-20180415_182131_AuroraHDR2018-edit_WebParis-20180415_182253-2_Web