If I Can Make it There, I'll Make it Anywhere

It’s taken a while to get this posted, but let me say for an afternoon of leisure and delight, I cannot more highly recommend anywhere than York, England.

I don’t even know what to write to make this funny, since York is a delightfully lovely little place about 2 hours by train, where you feel like you could knock on any door and Mrs. Doubtfire would invite you in for tea and crumpets.

Of course the reality is that York is a giant tourist trap, and all of the classic old English buildings are filled with multi-national businesses. But after a month in Manchester you are quite willing to forgive this small detail and just be happy to see a town that you once imagined all of the UK looked like.

In brief, the main showpiece of the town is the Cathedral, and neither words nor pictures can accurately describe how big this freaking thing is. I generally walk into an old classic architeural wonder and go, “Cool. What’s next on the list?” But this thing blew me away. It was built in stages over about 1500 years, but it all looks like it was done at the same time.

There are 3 or 4 different chapels, tombs, tunnels, and things I don’t even know how to describe. You all know how cheap I am, and it was impressive enough for me to spend 25p a piece on postcards, just in case my pictures looked like crap. I even looked for Christmas cards, but the only ones they had didn’t do it justice. I thought it was quite a pity that in the entire gift shop they did not have a single picture of what the place looks like all decorated for Christmas. It must just be splendid.

The rest of the town is all walkable – the whole place can’t be more than 1 or 2 square miles. It’s England, so there’s a pub on every corner, and I found two, “The Hole in the Wall” and “King’s Arms” to rank amongst my favorite watering holes of all time. The King’s Arms, especially made me smile, as it is a little place seemingly carved out of stone on the edge of the river. While I was reading my guidebook (not as easy as you might think because the only one we have is in French) I sat next to a table of about eight 60 year old gents telling old stories and bragging about their kids. It was a Sunday night and the lads were out busting balls and swilling pints like they were 17. It was great.

I have some pics up on the shutterfly site.

Based on the York experience, Oxford is definitely on the list, and I’m desperately trying to round up a party to Wales this weekend because I hear great things about it.