With a fresh chill in the air, James (the boyfriend) and I wrapped up to visit the annual festivities going down in York. Welcomed to the tinsel trail by the beautifully lit Christmas tree on Coppergate, we set about reaching Parliment Square through the hustle and bustle of Christmas shoppers, market goers cradling cups of mulled wine and the Christmas carolers playing out the most cheerful of tunes.
In the name of tradition, James picked up some freshly roasted chestnuts. Now, I've never tried them before and although I want to imagine myself cosy in front of an open fire, they're just like potatoes with a nutty aftertaste to me. Much like warm brandy, they just aren't my cup of tea. I want to say hundreds, but there probably isn't quite that many, snug chalets decorate the city centre with locally made goodies with a festive twist.
Wooden huts filled with festive foods such as German sausages, funky-flavoured fudge (namely jammy dodger, Christmas cake and my personal favourite marzipan) alongside brandy-laced hot chocolate and much more.