A few years ago I decided to boycott Christmas shopping. I was bored with the display of bottom-line, 'Made in China' Christmas gifts cluttering every mall across America. Even offerings at New York City's niche, boutique stores seemed bland and questionably unique. I didn't like the idea that the gift I was giving was probably being received by thousands of others on Christmas Day.

I resorted to making presents for my family and friends. Last Christmas, I made everyone room spray scented with my own custom blend of essential oils that I named "Creativity." The Christmas before, I slaved away in the darkroom, and gave everyone framed, black-and-white prints of my nature photography.

I left my shopping to the last minute this year. I didn't want to undertake a gift-making project in a foreign land, but I was reluctant to join the tide of Christmas consumers. I finally made my way to the Vorosmarty ter Christmas market on Dec. 23.

I had been to Budapest's Christmas market at Moskva ter since its opening day for a taste of Forralt bor (mulled wine, which is hot red or white wine typically spiced with cinnamon, cloves and orange). I went back as often as I could, sipping the delicious elixir while I listened to an American Indian band play wooden flutes and savored the smells of roasting chestnuts and kurtos kalacs, barbecued bread smothered with sugar or cinnamon.

At the Vorosmarty ter market, the largest Christmas market in Europe, I had one of the most enchanting Christmas shopping experiences I've ever had. The large square was filled with wooden booths, each with an inviting display of handmade goods by Hungarian craftsmen. I walked through the rows of stalls for hours, pausing in their little orbs of light and marveling at the marionette puppets, the hand-tooled leather belts, the delicate bone jewelry, the hand-painted mugs. A gypsy band was playing on a large stage, a towering evergreen glowed with generous strings of white lights and a giant gold star and the food booth area teemed with an intoxicating swirl of aromas and European languages. I exchanged a few Hungarian words with each vendor and happily passed them my forints, knowing the gifts I bought truly evoked the holiday spirit. I left the market with a lot of bags that held something for everyone on my list. My cheeks were rosy.