19 September 2007

Act Two, Scene Two: York

note to the reader: read the post below for a chronological read.

This city is fascinating. A large northern England town where everything is within walking distance. My backpack is weighted down with a few bottles of alcohol which I'm thinking of drinking instead of figuring out how to get them home.

I arrive late and check into my hostel. I'm staying in a room with 10 bunkbeds (20 beds) co-ed. For £12 a night, it can't be beat. I wander into town early Sunday morning and I am one of only a dozen people on the street. I encounter ancient roman walls and towers. A mideveal castle tower atop a large mound so many sinking buildings. Oh yes, and several Starbucks and Pizza Huts.

I end up in the queue at the Jorvik museum. This place is very scatalogical. They take you through a disney-like ride through a typical Viking town... including the toilet where an old man is straining himself (a bit too realistic for me). Did I mention there are actual smells being piped in? Ugh! After the ride, the museum begins with a petrified human poo! At that point, I wonder what the rest of the museum is like?! Turns out it's quite interesting. My ancestors were inventive folk. They were adventurous travelers, lived in quaint communitites and were overall quite intersting. My favorite exhibit was an actual skeleton found on the site and they pointed out all of his battle injuries. Broken limbs, several stab wounds including a spear through the neck which severed his spine. It was like watching a forensic science show!

I enjoyed a typical Sunday dinner in Yorkshire: roast beef, vegetables, potatoes, gravy and yorkshire pudding. With a local hand-pulled cask ale, of course! With every corner I turned I found another ancient building and about as much character as one could stand. The York Minster is unbelievable! I say that having seen more than my fair share of gothic cathedrals. The size of which could be compared to St. Peter's in the Vatican. A walk along the city wall -- built by the Romans -- and lunch in the "most haunted pub" in England (or is it Europe) rounded up my visit to this fine city. I bought some clotted cream fudge in the Shambles (tastes like candy corn) and by then it was time to head to London for the final Act of my journey.

I really enjoy train travel. I cherish the last train I'll be on during my trip and look forward to wandering around London seeing sites I encountered 20 years ago, and learning more about these English folk. Until the next act...

1 comment:

  1. A flavor of fudge that employs the adjective "clotted" in its name? Only in Britain.
    Andrew

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