PRIOR to the five days I spent in Lille, I will admit that I really didn’t know much about it. Yet as France’s fourth largest urban area after Paris, Lyon and Marseille, it certainly deserves not to be overlooked.

For a French city, a heavily Flemish influence is unmistakeable, thanks to its proximity to France’s neighbour to the north, Belgium. But it has plenty in common with Glasgow too. Similarly to Scotland’s largest city, this ancient French metropolis suffered heavily at the dawn of the post-industrial age. And has done similarly well at reinventing itself since as a city of culture, shopping and nightlife – one that lets you experience all of that with the requisite French flair, wihout having to contend with the hustle and bustle of Paris.

I travelled there at the end of November 2015, two weeks after the Paris attacks that sent shockwaves around the world. That context provided an overwhelming mood and level of security that was disturbingly visible in a beautiful city such as Lille. As with town squares across Europe, Lille’s own Place du Général-de-Gaulle became a focal point for tributes to the victims in the form of flowers, posters, candles and for citizens looking for a place to gather in the face of national grief. Memorials could be found in Lille’s three major museums and seen spray-painted across walls throughout the city’s streets.

Both the Palais des Beaux-Arts de Lille and the Lille Métropole Museum of Modern, Contemporary and Outsider Art boast collections among France’s finest. The former (the Museum of Fine Arts) is vast, exhibiting works by the likes of Raphael, Rembrandt and Van Gogh.

The modern art museum is somewhat wackier to say the least… I remember a room with headphones of different types of white noise and binaural beats claiming to evoke between them the entire range of human emotion. There was also a replica of a South Korean house, including a typical Korean teenager’s bedroom complete with aquarium, animé posters and K-pop blaring on the TV.

Architecturally, Lille is famed for its Flemish-style buildings and distinctive red-brick structures. At the end of each year, the city’s second square, Place Rihour – situated in a shopping district which is a prettier equivalent to Buchanan Street – becomes an extravagant Christmas fair and market, at which the Ferris wheel is ideal for nabbing a bird’s eye view of the city.

The majority of shops in Lille appear to be both independent and flourishing, selling vintage goods, antiques and curiosities, with big brands restricted to a few streets. But while this certainly adds to the city’s charm, it perhaps isn’t the place to bag a bargain. With patisseries on every corner, I opted for souvenirs of the edible variety – and certainly nobody was complaining when I retuned home with six boxes of macarons.

If you’re looking for something more reminiscent of the Barras, I would recommend the cavernous Marché de Wazemmes, one of the largest markets in France, which takes place all year round every Tuesday, Thursday and Saturday in Gambetta – a neighbourhood that’s also a good shout for those looking for budget accommodation.

All of these places are simple enough to travel between. The Métro is more advanced than Glasgow’s Clockwork Orange (which perhaps isn’t saying much) and far cheaper and less crowded than its Paris or London equivalent, but Lille is a very walkable city, with sculptures, statues and street performers to spare to keep you entertained along the way.

Occupied by Germany during the First and Second World Wars, Lille was severely affected by the Great Depression in the years between those two conflicts. It has also suffered economically from the decline of its major industries – including coal mining and textiles – during the 1960s and 1970s, but is finding its feet again.

Just like in Glasgow, it is a city where you’ll find the avant-garde and the respectable, the modern and the traditional, the fancy and the gritty – but make no mistake, Lille is as French as France can be.