The winter arrived. A cold wind swept the streets clean of the first fireworks the kids started throwing in the early afternoon, a drizzling rain coated the roads with silvery pearls, the moisty beads sometimes gathering together in one of the pockets some roads were rich of, creating small – sometimes larger – cute pools of water, in which cars and bicycles could splash, making sure that the passer-bys would get some of the silver liquid, now mixed with a earthy quality, greatly improving its mark-up features.

Aloof winds, lifeless sky and damp weather had though a jolly companion in the scent of cheap wine, cloves, cinnamon spreading through the streets which were dark before someone invented the Christmas lights. Each year new tiny Christmas markets sprout around the city, conquering even the space in front of the ubiquitous shopping mall of the district. For after all, Christmas is a time of shopping, mulled wine and fireworks. Celebrate, drink and spend as if there were no yesterday and no tomorrow.