Old York

The hardest thing about going new places is finding the right description for it. Even the most powerful adjectives become weak when they’re tossed out for simple things, so when it comes down to truly gorgeous sights, shallow clichés become a popular option. I’ll try to refrain, but if it happens please just realize that the creative part of my brain has been numbed by last weekend’s sights. With that disclaimer out, I’ll do my best to tackle our York visit. Here goes:

We left early Saturday morning for the hour and a half drive to York. I fell asleep for the majority of the trip, but luckily, I caught sight of a poppy field before I passed out completely. This valley was covered with the red flowers, and although I only saw it for a few seconds, it was worth my fight with sleep. When we arrived, we immediately took our things into the little bed and breakfast where we spent two nights. Of course our rooms weren’t ready, so we had to leave our things in the lobby (definitely not my top choice as far as security goes, but thankfully nothing was stolen). Anyway, despite the fact that we weren’t getting our rooms yet, we still spent a good deal of time waiting to get checked in. The lobby is decorated in no less than three different wallpapers: neutral, stacked wooden logs and golden deer antlers printed on a deep scarlet background. Actually it could be an elk or a reindeer for all I know, as I’m a little fuzzy on the finer classification points of horned animals. The last wallpaper matched the beige curtains, which featured the same deer head. It’s also complemented by a smaller gilded deer head that’s mounted on the wall. Obviously there are lots of big game hunters within the confines of central, urban York.

Anyway, after we left our luggage under the many empty-eyed gazes of the lobby deer, we ventured into York city proper. The city has slightly wider sidewalks than Durham and the drivers seem a bit less intent on their destination, possibly because they’re used to stopping every 87 feet. The town just finished their sendoff of the Tour de France bikers, which means that the entire city was covered in a fancy, cloth version of those little neon triangle flags that decorate car lots. Our first stop was to the Jorvik Viking Centre, which shows the remains of an actual Viking city that was built roughly 1,000 years ago. You can spot the museum from pretty far back, as there are several men walking around with flowing beards and tunics. Nearly as soon as we get into the museum part, we stepped onto a three-inch thick glass floor that showcases the remains of Jorvik homes. However, before we get to the museum part, we were blasted by an odor that caressed the nostrils with the delicacy of a swinging baseball bat. It reeks. Then came the ride portion, which looked like the first Brave prototype from an underpaid Disney employee. There were six people to a car, and it followed along a rail while an automated voice told about the Viking city through which we were riding. There were animatronic Viking people throughout the city, and they looked every bit as sketchy as they sound. On the city tour, we were treated to more authentic Viking smells that were somehow more pungent than the first. One was allegedly the scent of Viking stew, although I’m a bit skeptical of how they know what it smells like since there’s no historical record of scent. But we made it through and finally escaped to fresh air.

Our next stop was to Clifford’s Tower. It was built in a quatrefoil shape and it’s right in the middle of York. It has a bit of a sad history as it was the site of a Jewish massacre in 1190, and this juxtaposed with the peppy scenery. It’s built on the apex of a very steep hill and the top provides an excellent view of York. After I climbed it, I looked around and spotted a carousel in an adjacent parking lot. The fire massacre turned the stones a charred coral color, which matched the cheery carousel. It just seemed wrong. Anyway, despite that, I loved climbing the spiral staircase and wandering about the castle. Another good thing was that I got to have a swordfight on the castle floor, and I thought that really authenticated the experience. It may not have been historically accurate, but it fit the fairytale memories of my playground days.

Finally, we stopped at York Minster, the cathedral. It was another one of those incredible experiences for which pictures and memory can hardly do justice. This one was lighter than the Durham cathedral, but the feeling of inadequacy was still the same. Wandering around the huge rooms reminds me of just how many people have been moved and affected by these sights for centuries. I saw tons of other tourists, but the rooms were far from packed. The tour was even better because of our guide. He had the demeanor of a pipe-smoking grandfatherly figure who had a penchant for storytelling, and he was sure to draw our attention to all the funny bits of the building, such as a carving of a couple having a snog behind a pillar. He was also really animated. He’d been working there for more than 20 years, but he still seemed genuinely happy to give the tours. It made me want to find the perfect career even more.

The next day we watched the York Mystery Plays. These plays are performed every 10 years, and this is what really brought us to York.  Their website says more than 600 locals volunteered for the performances, which is kind of incredible. Originally the Mystery Plays performances started at 4:35 in the morning so that the “Let there be light!” coincided with the sunrise. Now it starts at noon and they skipped quite a number of episodes, or mini play segments. I didn’t lament the delayed start time. The plays were really interesting because they roll up on a wooden cart and then speakers introduce where the episode is at in the Biblical storyline, and they all sort of go with one another. The first play was the first five days of creation, and it had an incredibly elaborate set with a ton of different buttons, latches and things to push. I was impressed. However, a large group of us left about halfway through the plays for lunch at a pub/café. And since the group was entirely of women, we went shopping. That night, we grabbed some pizzas and snacks and stayed in to watch the World Cup final. Some of the rooms had full kitchens, so it worked perfectly.

On Monday, we left pretty early in the morning and headed to Rievaulx Abbey. This was previously a monastery, but a ruler ordered it be shut down, so soldiers removed the building’s roof and gutted the place. It’s quite an effective method. This is my favorite stop so far. The ruins sprawl along a pastoral hillside and the absence of everything but stone give the ruins a much different feel than the equally huge cathedrals. The ruins seem a bit more personal, like a place of entertaining secrets. Nothing was off limits, so we could take as many photos and wander through as much of the grounds as we wanted, which was perfect for the climbing souls in our group (me). Next we traveled to Helmsley Castle, which was just a short distance away. Obviously this was another castle, but it was much different than Clifford’s Tower, because it was more than just one building. The buildings were spread out and in various degrees of dilapidation. One building was decent enough to walk through, but another was definitely ruin-like. It was neat. Afterward, we went into the town and meandered around for a few hours. We stopped at a little ice cream and sweet shop, and my multi-day cravings for ice cream overpowered my desire for the chocolate truffles that tempted me from another display. I got an ice cream that had toffee and honey swirled in, and it was every bit as delicious as it sounds. When we got to the city, we found a few little bookshops, and I was used a fair bit of self-control to walk away empty handed. It’s a shame that the books I wanted weren’t lighter. Then we had the trip home, which only took about an hour and a half. I fell asleep again. Whoops. Eventually I hope I’ll see more than 20 minutes of English countryside.  

Next up: Scotland!  

Also, I have to give my momma a special shout-out: Happy birthday, Sher-Bear! ;)