Skip the Mulled Wine Scrum: A Quieter, Kinder December Weekend in Hay-on-Wye

Every December, thousands of us get on trains to stand shoulder to shoulder in a market square, holding a paper cup of something lukewarm, shouting to be heard. It is festive in the way a queue is festive. And it costs about the same as a night away.

So here is a modest proposal. Take the money you would have spent on the market and the train, and put it towards two nights in Hay-on-Wye instead. Early December in this corner of the borders is quiet, cold and quietly lovely — the bookshops are open, the cafés have space, and the Wye is doing its best impression of a proper winter river. Nobody will elbow you near the till.

This is not a claim that Hay is better than everywhere. It is a claim that the run-up to Christmas is more restorative when you are not packed into it.

Friday evening: arrive before the dark does

Sunset is around four in early December, so aim to be through the door by three. It matters more than it sounds: arriving in the last of the light means you see the hills as you come in along the B4350 rather than just headlights.

Drop bags, then walk into town while it is still vaguely daylight. The square will be half-empty, the windows yellow, a couple of dogs waiting outside the butcher's. This is the hour for a first browse — not to buy anything, just to remind yourself that shopping can be a slow, pleasant activity rather than an obstacle course.

Eat early and close by. Hay does unfussy winter food well: something braised, a plate of chips, a decent pint. Then back to the hideaway for the bit that city breaks never manage — a fire, a sofa, and no reason to go out again.

Saturday morning: the shops without the elbows

Get in before ten. December Saturdays in Hay are busier than a Tuesday in February, but they are still nothing like a city. The trick is the order: bookshops first, when the assistants are fresh and happy to talk, and the general shops after.

Start with the big ones — Richard Booth's Bookshop and the castle shop at Hay Castle — then head for the smaller rooms off the main drag, where you will find the oddities: the poetry shelf nobody else has, the secondhand maps, the local history section with a hand-written index card in it. Buy something small from a shop you like the look of. It is a good habit and it keeps these places alive.

By eleven, the town will have filled up a little. That is your cue to leave it. Head for coffee and something baked — the sort of café that has six tables and a chalkboard rather than a laminated menu — and sit down properly. Do not take it away. The whole point of the weekend is being somewhere long enough to notice it.

Saturday afternoon: the river, the castle, the cake

After lunch, walk. Not far — a couple of miles will do it. The path along the Wye towards the Warren is flat, mostly sheltered and beautifully bleak in December, with the water high and brown and the branches bare enough to see thirty feet back into the woods. Wear boots. Take a torch even though it is only early afternoon, because it will not be by the time you turn around.

If the weather is foul, swap it for the castle and the town's small, stubborn museum-ish corners, then take a second cake stop on principle. Nobody ever regretted a second cake stop in December.

One thing worth checking before you travel: Hay's winter literary weekend usually lands at the end of November, and there are carols, late openings and small festive events scattered through the first half of December. Look at the local listings a week out and build around what is on — or deliberately build around what is not.

Saturday night: the very cosy bit

Book a place with a fire and a bath, or at least one of the two. This is not the weekend for a glass box with underfloor heating. You want low ceilings, a stack of logs, a kitchen you can make toast in at eleven, and a view of nothing much in the morning.

A few things to look for when booking:

• A real fire or wood-burner, and confirmation that logs are included rather than sold at £12 a basket.
• Walking distance to town if you want a drink with supper; the lanes out of Hay are dark and narrow, and taxis are thin on the ground.
• A decent kitchen if you would rather cook than book. Early December is exactly the season for a slow-cooked something left in the oven while you are out walking.
• Late checkout. The single best luxury in winter.

Sunday: leave slowly

The temptation is to pack up and be gone by ten. Resist it. Have breakfast properly, walk the long way to the car, and do one last circuit of the square before you go. Buy a book for the drive home. Buy two.

If you want to stretch the morning, take the lane up towards Hay Bluff and stop at the first place the view opens out. On a clear December day the ridge running away to the west is as good as anything a market square can offer, and there will be roughly nobody there.

Then drive home on a Sunday afternoon while everyone else is still queueing for a bratwurst. That, honestly, is the whole argument.