York

Always wanted to go to York.  While living in England in 2004 it was always just a little hard to get to, the solar-power car running out on the motorways to the north and all.  But this time, we made it.  What a wonderful town.  So many old buildings and the centre of town being essentially traffic-free, it was a lovely stay of three nights.  Amusing clever mistake of mine, I booked a guesthouse a little walk out of town for the night after the day we arrived.  Not only was this very clever forethought and arriving so punctually that we had 24 hours to slowly check-in but if we wanted the night prior to the one I book then we’d have to share a room with someone else, and that someone else didn’t like the idea so much.  Hence, the helpful man at the guesthouse used a magical screen he had where he could type in words and then the screen would show something different, and some pictures.  After a minute the man found a name and address of another guesthouse closer to town, which was free for both the current night and the next.  My clever error then switched us to a fantastic B&B for about the same cost, but within very short walking distance to the city walls, old abbey ruins, park, wild squirrels, York Minster (as opposed to the Yirk Monster what eats wild squirrels and leaves the place a Shambles), restaurants etc.  23 St Marys is the name of the venue if you ever get to York and book the wrong place for the wrong night.

 

Went to Evensong at the Minster, beautiful building, beautiful sung service with choir and organ.  Lots of places to eat.  Met up with Rachael Curry (daughter of Taunton friends) for dinner, went to the York Castle Museum which had a replica Victorian street as a highlight.

 

Back to Norwich in due course, this time via several of the many scary English motorways and A-roads.  Glad Martha drives, I contribute by sitting in the passenger’s seat worrying for the two of us and carefully getting us lost.  Works well, I take all the worry about the hundreds of lorries bearing down on us, roundabouts within roundabouts and fear of making wrong turns and sailing across the Atlantic, fear of failing bails off stumps any minute, fear of the solar panel running out, and so Martha doesn’t need to worry as I’ve done it all and she can just drive.

 

Last days in East Anglia saw a long day of roundabout and motorway negotiation to see cousin Joanne for a couple of hours at hospital, Auntie Pam and Uncle Vic provided a lovely lunch at their home in Harlow.  Pity to see them for such a short amount of time but very glad we caught up.

 

Dinner and happy shenanigans for St Patrick’s Day at the Acle Bridge Inn pub with Sheila and Jacqueline, and stay overnight at Auntie Jacqueline’s charming cottage.

 

Enjoyed making friends with cousin David and spouse Nuria, went for nice dinner at a local Indian restaurant eating traditional English food of Butter Chicken, pappadums etc.  Tasty!