While I continue on my journey to achieve Christmas nirvana by exploring the plethora of festive markets around Great Britain, there’s one beloved Christmas market that I’m just not a fan of.
Going to Christmas markets is like an Olympic sport, and I, for one, am a self-proclaimed gold medallist.
I tend to find myself coming alive in the last two months of the year, as my hot chocolate-addled brain looks for its next fix complemented by Christmas lights and cheesy music. As Christmas chaos tightens its vice-like grip around unsuspecting UK residents, scores of us find ourselves Googling the million-dollar question: ‘Best Christmas markets in the UK?’
While I continue on my journey to achieve Christmas nirvana by exploring the plethora of festive markets around Great Britain, there’s one beloved Christmas market that I’m just not a fan of. Let’s just say — I’ve never met a Christmas market I didn’t like. Till I met the Southbank Christmas Market, that is.
While ‘absolutely hated’ is a strong phrase, ‘generally disappointed’ is not. And that’s how I felt about London’s Southbank Centre Winter Market. After hearing loads of complimentary things about it from my friends (and the internet) for ages, I decided to bundle up one fine Thursday evening and head on over to the ‘magical Christmas market on the River Thames’.
When I say the market ended before it started, I am not exaggerating. Southbank’s famed Christmas market had some seven odd stalls when I last visited (okay yes, I am exaggerating — it’s called a creative licence, look it up). And no, I refuse to add the scores of restaurants down the road — which earnestly dress themselves up in festive cheer and provide a jolly good time to visitors — to the count. I’m talking about the actual Southbank Christmas market, which actually is really quite tiny. I visited the market for the first (and last) time with my partner and our friend — all of us popping our Southbank Christmas Market cherry at the same time — and, as it goes with every ‘first-time’ virginity-losing story, we were all left wondering: is this it?
Having made the (never-ending) trek from East London, upon arriving, we felt like we were being Punk’d. Where were the rows of food and drink stalls? The gamut of overpriced souvenirs designed to entrap the unsuspecting tourist? The tat passing off as ‘must-haves’ this fashion cycle? It felt like someone clocked all the happiness Christmas markets brought to seasonally depressed individuals — and decided to suck every drop of joy straight out of them.
Because what’s the point of setting up a Christmas market if you can’t cause customers utter confusion over which bratwurst stall to go for? Why couldn’t I get four different shops selling the exact same patterned ceramic bowl and evil eye hangings at grossly varying price points? What is the point of this life, if I don’t buy mulled wine from 5 different stalls for a thousand million pounds each, as I happily hand them over all of my life’s savings?
There’s no point. And that’s why you won’t see me returning to the Southbank Christmas Market anytime soon. Except this Friday, because a spirited discussion with my colleagues before writing this article has already convinced me that I need to give it another shot (of overpriced Baileys, woohoo).