Dreaming of steaming cups of mulled wine, festive music, cobbled streets and stalls of Christmas goodies, I had been thinking about a trip to one of Europe’s big festive markets. But, by chance, I found myself in York for the opening weekend of its own enormous Christmas market and realised that Londoners such as myself don’t need to travel as far as I thought for my festive fix.
York isn’t a new city for me: I grew up in Leeds, and so trips to the city walls, and Jorvick Viking centre, as well as a particularly good ghost tour for my 11th birthday loom large in my childhood. I hadn’t been in more than two decades, but a cousin’s 40th birthday party lured me back earlier this month.
While York is over 200 miles away, and a hefty four-hour car journey in good traffic, the train from Kings Cross is quick and easy: the fast trains go directly to York, and you arrive in an hour and three quarters (although it is quite pricey — my ticket booked in advance and with a railcard was £140). Almost before we knew it, we’d arrived at York’s grand Georgian station - an impressive start to a short break seeped in history.
I was desperate for lunch as soon as I got off the train, and headed for the exceptionally good Partisan on Micklegate, wolfing down a hearty shakshuka with thick slices of homemade focaccia. It’s wise to book the day before if you can (it’s walk-ins only on the day), because it gets busy, although it does have a large and cosy marquee out the back to accommodate extra customers.
Then it was time to hit the Christmas market, which has scores of Alpine-style chalets lining the centre of Parliament Street and St Sampson’s Square, pumping out Christmas music and local craftspeople selling artisanal products from foodie gifts to homemade decorations, hot chocolate or mulled wine stalls, and oodles of Christmas cheer.
At the end of Parliament street after a right turn and a two minute walk, you're on The Shambles — a historic medieval street with buildings dating back to the 14th century. The name, deliciously gruesomely, is derived from the Anglo Saxon word, ‘fleshammels’ to describe the shelves where butchers displayed meat (it was a street of butchers).
Now the winding, narrow street, lined with overhanging, timber-framed buildings and decorated with twinkling lights and wreaths, has cute shops, like the incredibly popular The Shop That Must Not Be Named (for Harry Potter fans), Roly’s Fudge Pantry for Christmas gifts, and The York Ghost Merchants – an intriguing shop that sells tiny, handmade ghosts, to mark the spooky nature of the street, with more than 600 to choose from. The Shambles has its own little market, too: I was half tempted by a delicious-looking crepe at Krep, but checked myself, thinking of dinner to come.
It’s not just the Christmas market that’s had a festive overhaul: the city is decorated with lights, wreaths, a huge Christmas tree in St Helen’s Square, and buskers pumping out Christmas hits (including a charming trio of teenagers on trumpets when I visited). It makes wandering around the shops a pleasure: along with the usual high street stalwarts with slightly more interesting brands like Mint Velvet on Low Peter Gate, and Kiltane and TOAST on Stone Gate. It also has some excellent independents — I loved Eliza Lamb on the historic Micklegate, with beautiful clothes all made in its own workshop.
You catch glimpses of York Minster around lots of corners, but up close it’s really beautiful: I find it impossible not to marvel at just how these buildings were actually made all those centuries ago. The grounds are impressive enough — and free — for a wander around and a bit of peace from the thronging shopping streets, but going inside to sit and just think is a tonic, especially in this manic time of year.
You could go up and down to York in a day, but I wanted to stay for dinner and make a break of it. York has plenty of hotels to suit every budget, but I plumped for the very centrally located Malmaison (with rooms from £169 in peak season), just next to the river. Travelling with two others, we got a suite with a sofa bed. The hotel is minutes from the station (great for bag dumping) and has incredibly well insulated rooms and comfy beds — which I tested out for a short disco nap before dinner, followed by a soak in the tub.
Malmaison has a great bar on the rooftop, Sora, with views over the city — and the barman serves a mean martini. We could have stayed and eaten, too — by the looks of the sushi being served, Sora is an excellent Japanese restaurant — but I knew I wanted to try the Michelin-starred Roots, by acclaimed chef Tommy Banks, on Marygate, which prides itself on using hyper local and seasonal ingredients, which really show off the food heritage of the area, including Oldstead charcuterie and Elderflower tart. If you’re going up during December, on Sundays the restaurant is offering its Christmas Feastivities Menu, which you need to book into.
With a generous check out of 11am, we left the bags at reception and went to Brew and Brownie on Museum Street — minutes from my hotel — for a breakfast of sweetcorn fritters with avocado and lots of coffee, then up and onto the city walls to get a final and alternative view of the city. Final stop before the train home? It had to be Betty’s — the Yorkshire institution — for coffee and baked goods I remember from my childhood, such as fat rascals, and some mince pies to take away. Festive mode: truly activated.
