2012 ends, 2013 arrives

As 2012 draws to a close, Delhi is still cloaked in a pall of  gloom following recent events. There is outrage at the lack of dignity or security for women in this city, which promises to become a fortress tonight…

Darkness falls over the city fog, the wintry chill makes my eyes water and it is easy for the present to blur into a past winter – a perfect year-end in Germany and Austria. If Bavaria is magical at Christmas, then Nuremberg’s Christkindlmarkt (Christmas Market) is at the heart of the magic. We stroll among the colorful stalls on cold evenings, drinking spicy-sweet gluhewein and eating mouthwatering cakes, before walking over to hear the carol-singing in the historic cathedral. 

The day before Christmas we drive to Salzburg, arrive in the afternoon at the quaint family-run Bloberger Hof and are shown to a charming little room beneath the eaves. I can hardly wait to see the old town and it is everything I can hope for: narrow cobbled streets between tall ancient buildings – one of them is Mozart’s home, where he was born and lived almost three centuries ago… Foolishly, we have not booked a dinner table for Christmas eve, but are fortunate to get the last one in the coziest, most beautiful restaurant in the alley! It is the perfect end to a perfect day, surpassed only by waking up to the uncanny silence of a white Christmas - where the newly fallen snow forms a thick white velvet cover over rooftops and cars and branches.

For two days, we are tourists in Salzburg: cable car up the Alpine slopes, walks along the river and Europe's finest confectionery. On the third day, our fellow guests help dig out our snow-stuck car and cheer us loudly on our way when we are free! We stop in Munich to see the spectacular Residence, breathtaking palace of the Bavarian monarchs, and then back to Nuremburg.

Now, as I return to the present New Year’s eve, I can feel again the cold of Salzburg and see the breathtaking snow-covered vista we woke to on Christmas morning. I can taste the flavour of Christmas stollen and hear the sweet sound of Christmas carols. I can hear the calling of the geese, as they scramble for bread crumbs on the half-frozen lake near Munich, and smell the bratwurst cooking over charcoal embers. My mind turns to the spectacular fireworks at midnight that we looked at from the Nuremberg window …