Nüremberg is like stepping into a Christmas carol. The snow lightly falling, the carolers singing on the stage, the gothic cathedral towering overhead with its glockenspiel, and the smell of lebkuchen (gingerbread) urging me to try just one more. The wooden market stalls (some over 100 years old) with cheerful red & white roofs are made of regional spruce and we met artists and craftsmen/women working in the stalls who, though not as old as the stalls, told us they were 4th generation artists in their families. While the Frankfurt market seemed overcrowded, NYC-paced, and all about drinking, Nuremberg has a more spacious, relaxed feel — a town that treasures and protects its lebkuchen recipes within its walls and behind a moat. Yes, they are that good.
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