I’ve been going to Christmas markets since I was a child in Hannover in the 1970s – I love the stalls, the smells, the twinkly lights and the kitschy music. I own many knitted hats, carved wooden animals and artisanal candles. And now I take my own children to a traditional German Christmas market in Leeds, England.
In December 2014, I was invited to Berlin for a conference on how to commemorate the centenary of World War I as a collective European memory rather than in ways that reinforced nationalism. I was keen to accept the invitation because I thought the topic was important, but a major draw was the chance to be in Berlin in the run-up to Christmas – and, on 19 December that year, I was at the lovely market on Gendarmenmarkt, enjoying the twinkly lights and the cheesy music and the cosy feeling of goodwill to all. It makes the horror of what happened on Monday feel very personal.
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