An Alpine Christmas

IT WON’T be long now before Munich’s wintery smells start taking to the nostrils.

Ambling down the pedestrianised Kaufingerstrasse, scarves pulled tight around throats and hats boxed onto heads, visitors will shortly be succumbing to the sweet whiff of cinnamon and roast chestnuts.

Winding their way into the Altstadt, they’ll find a City Hall pimped up like the cover of a chocolate box. The moreish pong of baked gingerbread will seep through crowds staring up at a glockenspiel that has chimed at the same times, every day, for a century. By the time you reach Marienplatz, the aroma of pine needles, mulled wine and bratwursts will have you almost dizzy.