Thursday, November 13, 2008

York

Up before 7 and breakfasted while watching remarkably trashy British television.


We then walked through the streets of Manchester to the station we'd arrived at the day before, and picked up our hire car. Dad drove us out of Manchester, and into the English countryside.

Our first glimpse of the moors in the distance was spectacular; we rounded a couple more Manchunian red-brick buildings, and suddenly there were rust-red hills filling the horizon, laden with sheep. The city's buildings petered out and left drystone walls, and almost before I had registered what was happening, I was staring at a Clydesdale, eye to eye through the car window.


We carried on for the rest of the morning and early afternoon, passing through dozens of hamlets too small to show up on mum's map (though ALL of them big enough to have their own pub). The houses that line the roads in most of these places are identical, save only for their (freshly-painted) doors, which seem to be the only permissible display of individuality. It's very neat and picturesque, but it feels rather oppressive to me - especially when you approach a town from a distance, and the identical roofs look like rows of thorns sticking up from the ground.

We stopped briefly at Harworth and walked around the house where the Bronte sisters lived - now I'll have some context if/when I read their books. We also drove through Harrogate, so now I understand why the town's name has become a by-word for the fancy middle-class. Hmm.

Mum, Pip and I were pub name-spotting along the way. Our favourites so far are the "Moon Under Water" and the "Carrion Crow".


Got to York around 3 pm. I had naively imagined that the walls of York would still be around the city, rather than lost in the middle like they are today! We spent this afternoon looking at Yorkminster cathedral (dead impressive architecture but unfortunately most of the carvings have crumbled away with age, and mum and I agree they could do with a comprehensive garage sale)... and this evening was spent wandering the streets of inner York in the dark. The area is really a giant tourist-trap, but once you recognise that, it's kinda fun. So many ancient buildings; there's one set in particular that I want to photograph tomorrow: "The Shambles". The buildings there are so old that they've buckled out of shape and bulge into the street.

Dinner was fish and chips in a place that purported to be the "Number one" chippy in York. The food was... alright. Heh. I was just so hungry, I didn't mind.

It's 8.20 now, and I'm writing this in my hardcover journal. In bed, in the Southlands Bed and Breakfast. A very frills-and-lace sort of place, but lovely and warm - and I'm looking forward to a hot breakfast tomorrow morning!

Zzzzzzzzzonk.

2 comments:

Rene said...

The English countryside is very picturesque and I actually like the identical rows of houses for some reason and I am glad that they are allowed to express their individuality by having different color doors :D
And yes, all over Europe it's really the same: each village, no matter how small, has a church and a pub, typically really close to each other.

Caitlin Boulter said...

The Shambles! I think that rings a definite bell!! The streets had me lost in about 3 seconds... not as in directional lost, but as in oh-my-god-this-place-is-wonderful lost. Also I bought *real* fudge from one of the shops and that was wondrous, I still remember how it tasted... Ohhh my, what a wonderful adventure you're on :D