Hailing from the Southern Hemisphere – specifically New Zealand – where Christmas is a summer event, I’ve never experienced the winter festivities. However, having relocated to London, I’m gearing up for my inaugural winter Christmas.
From what I gather, part of this tradition involves visiting a Christmas Market. So, while on a weekend getaway in Edinburgh, I seized the chance to explore one of the UK’s most frequented Christmas Markets.
Stepping off the train, it was immediately apparent that this market was a hit – the vicinity around Waverley train station was swarming with tourists. After a lengthy five and a half hour train ride, the last thing I wanted was to jostle with the crowds, so we opted to bypass the market that day.
Instead, we planned to venture out on a Sunday afternoon, hoping the throngs might have dispersed somewhat.
The market’s beauty was undeniable – set against the backdrop of Princes Street with Edinburgh Castle looming on the cliffside opposite, there was a massive ferris wheel, a helter skelter, and an alarmingly tall ‘Sky whirler’ which hoists daring passengers 80 metres into the sky and whirls them around, reports the Mirror.
I didn’t quite muster the courage for the Whirler and chose the Ferris Wheel instead. The tickets were priced at £11, which seemed somewhat fair.
Given the small queues at that hour, my boyfriend and I had a carriage to ourselves, which was a relief considering my fear of heights and the potential panic it could have caused with others in our company.
Despite my acrophobia, I found myself enjoying the gentle rotations of the ferris wheel and the stunning city views stretching all the way to Arthur’s Seat. The weather was clear and tranquil, providing an excellent view of the entire city – though I was relieved to be back on firm ground.
By the time we descended just 10 minutes later, the crowds had swelled considerably, making navigating through the market akin to a game of mobile tetris where none of the pieces fit and often come to a sudden halt without warning.
I attempted to peruse some of the stalls but found myself wedged against the wooden tables by people behind me, making it challenging to examine the goods.
After battling through the throngs, we paused for some crumble priced at £8 per serving. I opted for apple while my partner chose cherry, although it was hard to distinguish due to the watery custard topping that completely masked any trace of the fruit beneath.
The crumble was passable – perfectly suitable for strolling through the crowds but not particularly noteworthy, although we did finish our servings nonetheless.
Following that, it was time for another first – a mulled cider. As a big fan of cider in its traditional form, I assumed this would be a sure-fire hit for me, but alas, I was mistaken.
The small paper cups of the beverage cost £6.50, and my partner’s had some dubious looking bits floating in it, presumably spices.
Thankfully, mine was free of debris, but at the first sip, I realised my error. It tasted as if someone had thrown a can of cheap cider into the microwave and then tossed in some cinnamon as an afterthought – it was metallic, chemical-like and overly sweet.
I’m not one to leave things half-finished, but sadly, I couldn’t get more than halfway through the tiny cup before conceding defeat and discarding it.
By this point, a light rain had begun, and the crowds seemed to have tripled in size in the half hour we’d been wandering around, so I decided I’d had enough and we made a swift exit to the nearest pub for a soothing pint – cold this time.
Overall, my first market experience left me feeling let down, although I do attribute some of that to being accustomed to a summer Christmas. Being wrapped up in multiple layers while a misty rain fogs up my glasses isn’t my idea of Christmas – I’d prefer to be manning a barbecue in a sundress.
I subscribe to the philosophy of trying everything twice, so I already have plans to visit another market in London. Hopefully, the offerings will be slightly more inspiring – though I don’t hold out much hope for the crowd being any smaller.