Mary opted to drive, seeing that there was little traffic expected, at least until we hit York. So I had the iPad, using it as a main navigation aid, maps (free) being downloaded to the device on demand via the Internet. As usual our mobile Internet connection was provided by our credit card-sized MyZone device which is connecting to the UK telecoms provider, “Three”.
The sun was out, for a nice change, and before we hit the A1/M1 motorway we were meandering through pleasant farming country dotted with both villages with strange names and with enormous wind turbines, mainly dormant due to the lack of breeze today.
Within about two hours we were approaching the ring road which girdles York, a city whose central traffic problems are legendary. Fortunately, on doing a map recce before departure, I’d discovered that the ring road access road (“spoke”) from the north west penetrated the city very close to our B&B. This discovery led to a plan to use the direct route from the M1 then swing north-east on encountering the ring road and then enter York from the north-west. Incidentally, there's strong evidence that the name York was bequeathed by the Vikings, after several earlier and much different names were applied to the location. More information here.
You might well ask why we’d chosen a B&B so close to the centre of the city but the location was justifiable in that we were there only one night and wanted to visit York Minster, right in the centre, only. Car parking in the centre can be a monstrous problem but some B&Bs, including ours, have space for cars. All you have to do is get your car into the street which holds your B&B, remembering also that you’ll probably have to manoeuvre into some very tight spots so a small car has a distinct advantage. I once came across a US visitor to Spain who was trying to get his enormous Cadillac around the tiny central streets of Seville, backing and filling on most corners wearing a sweat soaked shirt and a hideous expression of frustration.
Our transition to the car park was very smooth but Mary had to sit in the car in the street nearby while I went on foot to identify our B&B (The Hazelwood) and to check with the staff about the parking arrangements. This done, and the car parked tightly along with a dozen others in a sordid back lane, we were free to visit the nearby York Minster, five minutes’ walk away, and it was only noon.
It was raining just a little but we’re used to that by now so just popped the “brollies” and stepped out, passing several pubs along the way which we quickly scrutinized as likely candidates for an evening meal.
Our luck was holding. A free guided tour was scheduled just a few minutes after we arrived at the ticket counter so we joined the group of about 25 and the lady volunteer guide, who turned out to be a real “gem”.
Here’s our guide, delivering her opening remarks in the cavernous surroundings. For those interested in such things this magnificent cathedral (named for “cathedra”, the throne of bishops) started off as one of the assets of the Pope in Rome but as a result of Henry VIII’s version of the Reformation became, along with much, and possibly all, of the Pope’s property in England, Anglican Church property. From that time, many formerly Roman Catholic clergy followed a new set of rules and eschewed the Pope. Shortly afterward these same clergy, under Edward VI’s rule, were no longer required to remain celibate. Perhaps this was a carrot factor in persuading them to jump ship, but probably Henry VIII’s stick factors were more so.
Ninety minutes later this female fountain of knowledge of York Minster and its Roman, Norman and Gothic history bade us farewell, setting us free to wander down into the crypt, marvel at the carvings and wonder at the fates of people whose names appear on the many memorial tablets.
Eventually, with a short break at the York Arms adjacent for a liquid lunch, and then free re-entry (actually the ticket lasts for a year) to the Minster, we’d seen as much as we could absorb in one day and set off back to our B&B to check in and put our feet up for a while.
The Gillygate pub, on Gillygate, the street at the end of Portland “our” street, provided a substantial dinner that evening, including, predictably, Yorkshire Pudding, plus drinks for £22, for both, not each. Then we waddled out into the (enclosed by walls) Minster area again to wander along Stonegate as the sun finally set. “Gate” is apparently a Nordic word for “street”.
Stonegate was originally the Roman “Via Praetoria” and now has a wonderful variety of shops and other places to spend your hard-earned.
Our next planned port of call is Llangollen, northern Wales, where we don’t have a reservation. It’s across the other side of Britain but we reckon we can do it in four hours or so using the extensive motorway network.
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Kev and Mary, nice pics again. York Minster looks amazing.
ReplyDeleteI remember doing a quick trip from London to Scotland via Wales (and return) years ago and really enjoying the roads.
A cousin lived in Chester for a while.