York: The City That Wishes It Were London.

The second leg of our four day travel ended in York--the reason for which no one exactly knew. Sure the professors gave us some suggestions of what to see and do, but it was definitely anti-climactic after Scotland. A two hour train ride from Edinburgh landed 65 grumpy people in a city none of us had any idea what we were doing in. We walked along the river about 20 minutes from the station to our new hostel; this one wasn't as nice as our previous one--I didn't even go in the bathrooms, let alone take a shower. I favor some stinkiness over contracting some unknown disease, thanks. The beds turned out to be surprisingly comfortable though, as I found out later that afternoon during my two hour nap. What we found in York: cheap-city bakeries and hot chocolate, York Minster (billed as Northern Europe's largest Gothic cathedral), the Shambles (a medieval street in which the buildings lean precariously into the street), and a 22-year-old Yorkie named Marcus who plopped down at our table to ask us, "So what the f--- you doin' in York?" Thanks Marcus. We don't know. He was really nice though. Kinda lonely and bored. He told us about his experience working in a pub and getting to know the ghost there, Jeffrey, who watched over the casks of ale. Kristin and I had to get to the York community production of The Scarlet Pimpernel, so we quickly bid adieu to our friend Marcus and made our way to the Theatre Royal. The play: Hmm...like Kristin said, worth the five pounds, but nothing more. It was entertaining at least.

The next day consisted of more wandering around; I honestly think I was too tired by this point to care about looking into things to see beyond the city. We walked on top of the Roman wall halfway around the city, saw some crazy acrobatic squirrels (I'm finding said squirrel mania is common among all animals in England. Yeah I don't know...), then went to the most classy of all places, Poundland, where you guessed it, everything costs a pound. After our foray in the sordid cheapness that is Poundland and its goods, Kristin and I headed to the river so she could draw the bridge and I could write, which is how we passed the hours until we had to be at the train station. So we were all pretty ecstatic to return to the Centre. Despite the boiler still being down, resulting in glacial showers. But a shower nonetheless.


The Shambles. It had a lot of little shops that have been there forever. Think Diagon Alley in Harry Potter.

A child's shop window. I thought Cub would like this dress :)

A store devoted to cats and cat accoutrement. Obsessive, but funny.

A side view of York Minster. Imagine people the size of pin heads at the bottom and you might get some idea of how big it is.
One of the best bakeries we found--I got a cheese and onion pasty and an apple pasty for 1 pound 20p. Great deal. The Roman wall that surrounds most of the city. We walked along it for some time, enjoying the trees and serenity. It was cool to imagine soldiers walking along it.

A section of the Farmer's Market where I bought two plums and an apple for 1 pound. There was also a stall selling hot chocolate for 90p. Take that, Starbucks!

The view of the river from where Kristin and I were sitting.
One of the most interesting thing about York is that it is the birthplace of Guy Fawkes of the 5th of November fame. We walked by the house where he grew up, which was pretty cool knowing the street hadn't changed much since he'd lived there.