Sun 09.Jul.2017
York, UK
Two excuses I've never been offered before for my train running late. First "trespassers on the line"
!
Well OK, it was better than the infamous "leaves on the track". The poor fellow came on the speakers
every few minutes and apologised in this dignified sincere English accent.
Later we stopped again without a station in sight.
The same voice apologized and explained that "we have caught up with the stopping service" ?!?
This sounded very strange to a furriner. Does First Trans Pennine Express Limited (!)
subscribe to a service to stop its trains for no obvious reason? And why would we need to catch up with it?
A day or two later, with a little more exposure to what was no longer quite my native language, I
figured out that "the stopping service" means the local train that stops at every station.
In any case, I did eventually arrive at York, and was delighted to be greeted at the station by my
friend and co-host there. He works at the the York Museum Garden, a short walk from the station, so I
spent part of a beautiful afternoon there until he got off work.
The Museum Garden seems to center around the majestic ruins of a medieval abbey. England is full
of these, thanks to Henry VIII, who ordered all the Catholic abbeys destroyed in his power struggle with
the Church, but left Majestic Ruins standing so that everybody could see what a mighty foe he had demolished.
I have the impression that Henry is not remembered favorably in Yorkshire.
You go to England, you expect to see The Real Thing of all the legends and literature
that your Anglophile relatives raised you on. I remember my first visit there, how unexpectedly buzzed
I was by the view of hundreds of chimney pots from the motorway as I rode into London from the
airport - just like the illustrations in Mary Poppins! Whooda thunk I had buttons in me that would make
me jump like that when they were pushed.?!?
In a similar vein, here is an actual Owl Post, so to speak, in the Museum Garden. I.e. a
station where owls live.
There was always a line outside this shop, out the door, down the street and around the corner.
People were sacrificing precious time out of their York vacations to wait to get in to what looks
like a plain old movie merchandise store. I was told that there is some kind of actual Potter Relic
inside - Slytherin's toenails or something. If anybody knows, feel free to chime in.
Actually, my Yorkshire hosts are a couple, and a shout out to them for a magical experience in a
place I had never been! Thanks to both of you!
They took me to colorful places galore around England's Largest County.
Today's page will focus on the city
of York itself. After that we will get to the coast and the hinterlands.
Signs! Funny, expressive, or just good local color! I intend a page of them, but these two belong
on this page.
If Henry VIII had all of the abbeys destroyed, what is that magnificent gothic church
that looms in the background of some of these pictures? That is York Minster, an Anglican
place of worship. High gothic or something like it. If you yourself are not of a related
Christian sect, the distinction between
a minster and an abbey may seem like internecine hair-splitting, but it makes the difference between
still-functioning and historical ruin.
This cemetary was identified to me as Norman, or perhaps Celtic or Saxon. I don't remember, and
don't feel like googling in the dark to find out. Something more than average historic, anyway.
Entrance to the old city, through the (presumably) medieval city wall.
A Janus-pairing of prints in lithographic style.
Looking back to the Museum Garden, where we began this page.
Looking ahead to Knaresborough, of which more in an upcoming page.