(old) york state of mind

ah, the north.

london was such a whirlwind of cultures and events and sights to see that i… may have missed some things.

like the full english breakfast. and cream tea. and fish and chips.

york made up for it many times over.

i’ve never been somewhere that has a more tangible sense of history. england generally, yes, but also york specifically. it’s almost hilariously easy to track how things developed through centuries of gentle, sleepy use and degradation. the name ‘york’ itself came from the romans who, when they colonised, called the town ‘eboracum,’ meaning ‘yew tree place.’ then when the normans took over, they spelled it ‘jorvik’ (pronounced YOR-wik), which was further worn down to ‘york’ by the middle ages.

it’s very cool to be in a place where the ask and the answer of human culture are both represented. in the states, all of the modern (read: 1800s to now) convenience exists without the context of its development. it makes sense why so many americans hold that charming attitude of ‘this is just the way it is;’ there really is no evidence of how varying and changeable culture and society actually are.

the city itself is very compact and bustling with tourists. buildings loom over the streets in a crowded old area, once populated primarily with butchers’ shops, which gives its name to the modern phrase ‘in shambles’.

it’s pretty spectacular.

while staying in york, i took a day trip through the yorkshire moorlands to whitby, an historic port town on the north sea which holds the ruins of the whitby abbey, built in the 15th century on the location of two previous abbeys. it is best known for (partially) inspiring the author bram stoker to write his novel dracula.

whitby also features beautiful seaside architecture, marvelous seafood, and a rail station which still runs steam trains to this day.

the english countryside is picturesque as hell and shockingly easy to get to from really anywhere. ten minutes’ drive out of york we were in farmlands, and within an hour we were through the thick green deciduous forests and had reached the moors; vast, rolling, and covered in heather.

it really is astounding how much is contained in this one small country. after taking the steam train through from whitby to goathland station, i had an EXCELLENT cream tea (that’s yorkshire tea + milk + sugar, served with scone + jam + cream = so pleasant it could have killed me) it was back on the minibus and back to the hostel by 5:30, by which time i had eaten so much food that i picked up a premade tesco sandwich and was ready to wind down.

i ended up, however, chatting and playing games with a group of 8 buskers from all over who were staying at the hostel, which was plenty of fun. the hostel itself had, until this last night, an uncomfortable silence about it despite the music thumping from the bar next door at all hours. it had been a couple of days since i had had any real conversation with anyone. my accent has gotten very strange.

PERSONAL RECORDS SET IN YORK:

1. number of times being asked “y’alright, love?” in one day: at least 10

2. number of cornish pasties consumed: 1 (this one probably won’t stand for much longer)

3. number of cups of tea consumed in 24 hours: 7

4. number of sheep seen in 24 hours: unfathomable

altogether, i’m glad i got to see york and a bit pleased that i had just stayed that couple of days. it’s starting to feel like travelling now.

onward to edinburgh.