My Toronto Christmas: A Memory of Mulled Wine, Multitasking and unexpected Magic

Wandering through Leipzig's Christmas market, I feel suddenly back in Toronto - Dior Christmas trees, unwashed aprons, four espressos a day, and the peppermint chocolate that still haunts me.

Walking through the Leipzig Christmas market this year, that unmistakable smell hits me right away: warm pastries, hot chocolate, a hint of cinnamon, vanilla, roasted almonds – the whole air basically smells like sugar.

And suddenly something happens I did not expect at all:

Toronto comes back. The memories come flooding in. Of another Christmas. A Canadian Christmas. Of the season I spent working at the Distillery Winter Village – my first real taste of life and work in Canada. And a version of my life that changed so fast, yet somehow felt weirdly familiar.

A city that completely overwhelmed me at first: the endless streets, the crowded subways, the constant rush – and then, somehow, made me feel at home. A country that held a mirror up to me in the end.

Toronto was the first city I truly just… fell into: No plan. No job. No apartment.

Just the hope that something would happen. And it did – of course in the most chaotic way possible. If I’d known how hard it is to find a job there, I probably would’ve arrived with at least a mini-plan.

But then it happened. I ended up in the Distillery District one day: a former industrial district full of galleries, restaurants, studios and tiny shops. A place that always sparkles a little – in summer as much as in the deepest winter.  Around Christmas it turns into the Distillery Winter Village: a small but magical Christmas market with more than enough mulled wine, pretzels and music – if the Christmas tree hadn’t been topped with Dior, I could’ve sworn I was back home. It was an atmosphere that somehow felt familiar and foreign at the same time.

At first, I honestly thought I had stumbled onto one of the smaller Christmas markets and that I’d still find the “real“ one somewhere else – like at home, where there are several markets spread all ac*oss the city. But then I realized: this was Toronto’s main Christmas market. For a city of over three million people.

The Dior Christmas Tree of the Distillery District Toronto, CA. Credits: Anna Clasen

And then came the next surprise: entrance fees. It had a very strong event character: I mean, if your tree is wearing Dior, the message is pretty clear. And yes, I can already hear people saying, “But in Germany it‘s all about selling stuff too!“ Sure – we love a good Christmas purchase as much as anyone. But the vibe is different. Back home it’s more like: you go to talk, linger, warm your hands on a mulled wine, maybe run into half your hometown. In Toronto, it felt more like a perfectly staged version of Christmas – almost too perfect. Like someone had curated the season down to the last snowflake. The tradition, the togetherness, that cozy sense of just being there… for me it was hard to feel any of that. People mostly rushed through it, ticking off their Christmas checklist. It maybe had the sparkle but not the soul.

At some point I stood in front of “Wildly Delicious“ and just asked if they had a job for me. Any job. Nothing glamorous. Nothing like “I’m here to change the world now.“

But it was the job that opened the door for me – the door to being able to afford an apartment. Well… to be precise: a room in an apartment. With three other people – but in Toronto, that still counts as a major life achievement! Before that I’d spent three weeks in a hostel, where I started to feel like an unofficial team member.

Wildly Delicious really lives up to its name: gourmet foods, gift items, décor from A to Z. Chocolate snowmen, reindeer hats, glass ornaments with tiny snowstorms inside – just everything you need for an over-the-top wonderful Christmas moment. And in December, the shop becomes Toronto’s emergency room for last-minute gift and décor panics.

The job requirements? Tough. Not sensitive. Cold-resistant. “We’re not looking for someone who expects to have fun here.“ Perfect, I thought. Chaos is my specialty. And honestly, that Christmas season in Toronto was the real beginning of everything for me – my actual start in Canada.

My workdays basically looked like this: accept online orders while the customer in front of me wants personal advice. Pack gift sets, hold the door open every other second – and pretend I’m not freezing to death while doing it. Explain hot chocolate flavors (salted caramel or peppermint?). Who even comes up with the idea of putting peppermint in hot chocolate? It tastes exactly as you’d expect – disgusting. After a few days, my body became immune to espresso. Four a day was my new normal.

Distillery Winter Village, Toronto. Credits: Anna Clasen

Then there were the caps and aprons. Good to know if you ever want to work there: every employee wore the same ones all season long, and they hadn’t been washed since the first snow had fallen – and they were all mixed up, so no one had their own. I know: wildly delicious. So every morning, I tied the unwashed apron around my waist, took a deep breath – cold air, cinnamon, some glitter particles, and a hint of stress and knew: it had begun. My manager yelled from somewhere in the back: “Annnaaaa! Where’s the freshly brewed coffee?!“ And just like that, the chaos had officially begun.

Life there was fast. Way too fast. Running out of my apartment on the 25th floor, grabbing a coffee at Starbucks, sprinting to work – and then it was like I had never lived anywhere else. It was that classic busy New York vibe: coffee in hand, rushing through skyscrapers, pretending I worked at some glamorous fashion agency, like in a movie…except I didn‘t. I was just standing in the back of a warehouse, sorting through thousands of chocolate Santas.

But at the same time – and this is the strange part: it felt right for me. Even the stress, the chaos, the cold had warmth. Also laughing with people was very fun. And it was a crash course in everything: working, settling in, being brave, growing past what I thought I could do.

I was at a tiny Christmas market in a brick-and-fairy-light neighborhood – and somehow it felt like my life was finally happening right in the middle of everything. Like I had suddenly achieved everything I’d ever really wanted: Not perfection, not stability – but that feeling of actually living.

Now, walking through a Christmas market here brings back that same mix of chaos, excitement, and warmth that I once felt in Toronto. Suddenly, the lights, the smells, the crowds – all of it reminds me of how a little chaotic Christmas market on the other side of the world hat quietly become a place I loved. A place that shaped me. A place that made me feel alive.

Maybe that’s what sometimes feels different for me here in Germany. Life is structured, predictable, everything follows a clear path – and I sometimes miss that feeling Canada gave me. That raw chaotic sense of I’m in the middle of my life right now. That I don’t need a perfect plan or the safest way forward to feel alive. And maybe that’s what I still carry with me: the reminder that feeling alive doesn’t come from doing things „right“, but from moments that catch you by surprise and pull you fully into the now.

That’s the real lesson for me: Sometimes you have to take a moment, hold it for a second, and simply live it – because that’s where life actually happens. And yes, that definitely includes eating chocolate at every Christmas market.

Cover: Vlada Kostohlodova

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