Even though it’s still November when I visit, you would have to be Scrooge to deny that it’s beginning to look a lot like Christmas in Arras. The cold is biting but the sun is shining on the small northern French city. My fingers curl like a cat in front of a warm fire around my first cup of mulled wine for the season. A curious, yet quintessentially seasonal, mix of cinnamon, roasted chestnuts and fried churros lingers in the air.
To a soundtrack of boppy Christmas jingles, a swell of people wrapped in thick jackets and scarves is starting to build around me. I slip into the file, stopping to take photos of only-in-France sights such as gingerbread men fashioned from brioche and escargots stuffed with cheese or spices, vacuum-packed for take-home convenience.
It’s the start of what turns out to be the perfect Saturday afternoon to find my festive mood in one of northern France’s largest, yet least known, Christmas markets. Tucked up underneath the border with Belgium, just south of Lille, Arras might not have the cachet of its more well-known neighbour, but that plays in my favour: there are approaching double the number of wooden chalets (140 compared to Lille’s 89, many of them selling local handicrafts) for half the crowd, along with the requisite Christmas tree, ice-skating rink and Ferris wheel. And all just a two-hour train ride from London.
My in-built radar for bubbles instinctively leads me to the Champagne hut, located conveniently across from the fresh oyster stand. Given the French penchant for the pairing come December, it’s a strategic placement that needs little explanation. At €7 (£6) for a glass of Champagne and €10 (£8.60) for half a dozen oysters so saline they taste like they have just been plucked from the briny depths, there is considerable risk that I won’t move for the rest of the afternoon. But I’m only in Arras for the weekend and the curiosity to look around is stronger than the pull of another round.
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