Writing Samples

Do you know where Santa’s workshop is? Since we were tiny tots we were told that it’s up at the frozen North Pole. No, as I discovered earlier this year, everyone was wrong. Its’ location is quite a bit further south in eastern Germany, very close to the Czech Republic. Seiffen, a village of around 3000 people is situated in a remote, sparsely settled area, in the heart of the melancholy forests of Erzgebirge (literally translated “ore mountains”). It is here where lights glow in the windows of the traditional half-timbered houses where modern day Santa’s elves work at creating their wooden masterpieces.

A nutcracker soldier, the size of a fairy tale giant stands guard at one of the entrances to the town. Metal lanterns with Christmas designs light up the streets and alleys. Everywhere you look there are larger than life displays of wooden nativity scenes, Christmas pyramids, nutcrackers, and shaved pinecones and stars, a trademark of Seiffen’s artisans.

Read more: The Real Santa’s Workshop…Sieffen, Germany

When you mention Salzburg, Austria, it’s natural to think of the 1965 Oscar winning film “The Sound of Music” with Julie Andrews, Christopher Plumber and the Von Trapp children dancing in the Mirabellgardens to Do-re-me. And, yes, you can take a guided tour to all the sites in Salzburg and surrounding area used in making the musical. But there is so much more to see here.

On a beautiful Spring day in late May, our rented diesel Opel Vectra station wagon took us to “The Mozart City”, situated on both banks of the Salzach River, in the foothills of the Austrian Alps. We arrived here from Graz, in the southeast of Austria, traveling on the twisty, two-lane E-57 highway, crossing the breathtaking mountainous countryside. We passed farmers busy cutting hay in their fields, sheep, horses and cows grazing contentedly, and drove through numerous clean and tidy small towns.

Read more: Salzburg, "The Hills are Alive"

As a seventeen-year old teenager the last thing I wanted to do on a hot July day, was work. Especially when this dreaded labor involved breathing in copious amounts of dust, sweating profusely while exerting exhaustive brute force while throwing fifty pound hay bales around. Summers in the Okanagan valley (located in south central British Columbia, Canada) were supposed to be spent relaxing at the beach, swimming, water-skiing or just goofing around. That is what most of my friends were doing, and I was envious!

Unfortunately, I could only dream of that lifestyle. Our family owned a cattle ranch and hay was a necessity when it came to feeding the animals in the winter, and selling the excess to other farmers or neighbours who kept a horse or two. Nevertheless, as much as I despised this task, I had no choice. I was obligated to help with harvesting the crop.

Read more: Finding a good wristwatch...

My face dropped, and there was an eerie silence as other travelers having their bags checked and X-ray scanned, all of a sudden took an interest in the dialogue between the security guard and me. “A knife?” I replied, hiding any emotion of fear and panic. Yes, I am in an airport, and yes the expression on his face is humourless. In an instant the exuberant mood I was in evaporated. “No, I don’t have a knife”, was my affirmative reply. This scenario isn’t really happening; I tried to convince myself. Yet, as other travelers looked on, and more security guards converged near my bag, I began to realize that the situation was becoming quite serious indeed.

“Would you take everything out of your bag,” he quietly requested as we moved over to the long table just after the scanning machine. “Sure,” I complied, as my brother under his breath said, “oh no.”

Read more: Do you have a knife in your bag?