A couple of years back my sister and I visited Manchester for the day. In the evening, we wandered around the German Christmas Market for half an hour to kill time before our train journey home. I bought some Swarovski crystal earrings from a little jewellery stall and we kept warm with delicious hot chocolates. I left with a warm festive feeling.
For the past few weeks I’ve seen lots of blog posts about the London
Winter Wonderland and various other Christmas markets which made me feel rather nostalgic. Mr F suggested that we check out the Lincoln Christmas Market. Unfortunately the day didn’t really go to plan!
We set off in the car (me driving) and all was going well until things got ‘bumpy’.
You see, we live in the East of England in the Cambridgeshire district of Fenland. For those of you who have visited this area, you will know that it’s as flat as a pancake. As you drive through the countryside and look out across the fields you can see for miles and miles. This makes for some stunning scenery, but I do sometimes forget that the rest of the country isn’t like this.
What has this got to do with anything? Well, I’m also incredibly scared of heights, sometimes in the most irrational ways!
The weather today was picture perfect. Clear blue skies, sunshine illuminating the trees and darting shadows across the haystacks and frost covering the ground. I was enjoying the journey until the road started to undulate. I found myself driving up slopes where I couldn’t see over the other side until I was cresting the hill. Then at the top of one particularly steep hill I saw what (in my mind) was a sheer drop on the other side. PANIC! I genuinely felt like I was at the top of a rollercoaster ride, ready to do the downward plummet. I had a mini meltdown. Sweaty palms, heart racing, the works.
Vertigo is just the worst. I know that it’s irrational and stupid, but anyone who has this phobia will know that this doesn’t help.
Mr F took over the driving. He isn’t bothered by ‘little hills’. Crisis averted.
Mr F had read that over 250,000 people were expected to visit during the 4 days of the Market, so we opted to use the park and ride. What we didn’t expect was that the sat nav would direct us through Lincoln City Centre in order to get to there! After much queueing, we eventually arrived at the car park which was in a massive field. A muddy, massive field. I counted myself lucky that I had decided to wear flats instead of my original choice, black suede ankle boots. We slipped and slid our way to the coach and within a minute it departed, transporting us to the Christmas Market.
By this time, it was already 1pm in the afternoon and we realised with dismay that the market was absolutely heaving with people. So much so, that I couldn’t actually see what was on any of the stalls, just the signs above them. We made our way into the throng and were swept along, without actually managing to get to any stalls.
Managing to duck into a sheltered food hall, we got Churros. Cinnamon, sugar and melted belgian chocolate therapy.
Reluctantly rejoining the masses, we were carried into the main market area inside Lincoln Castle’s grounds. Again, however, there were just too many people there. I just couldn’t get into the festive spirit.
Feeling completely frazzled, and without actually having seen or done anything of note (other than the Churros) we eventually opted to head back home. I promptly changed into my PJs and huddled under a blanket with Mr F to watch Titanic and eat pizza. We’re so rock and roll.
Tomorrow I’m going to the March Town Christmas Market, but this time to help my dad run his craft stall, so I’ll be an exhibitor rather than a visitor. Fingers crossed that tomorrow goes more smoothly!