We now move from our Paddington address to York. Why ? Well, a bit of a Parno secret that has been held close to my chest for sometime. More on that in a few chapters: somewhat deep and dark !!

We had already had a dress rehearsal of how to get from Paddington to King’s Cross when we picked up our tickets yesterday. Not too far: perhaps just a little awkward with our luggage, as we were going to catch the Friday peak on the Underground. Fred struggles a little, as the Underground doesn’t have lifts to get to and from Platforms. Still, she is getting better. It is just my stuff that she struggles with. So, I suggested to her, that she carry my bags first !! I had to apologise when i got back up of the floor !!

Still a quick and efficient trip to “the Cross”. A very large transit complex which seems to work well: provided you know where to go and how. We were to catch the “Grand Central” Express to York: a 2 hour trip. Overall, this went really well. Comfortable, fast efficient movement. The carriage even having WiFi: the latter which Fred and I used to catch up and get some work done.

Again, I am amazed at the complexity, yet efficiency of the English Train network. It is very organised dedicated, to get the job done and actually encourages passengers to undertake a compensation claim should trains “run behind schedule” !! Wow, Sydney trains would go bankrupt by the end of the first week. Massive numbers of people are moved via this system. With London’s population, I guess the rail community has had a long time to get it right. I just wonder what level of chaos would occur when things do go wrong.

Our travel out of Greater London seemed very quick: out into the countryside and soon the briar fenced farms became evident. Many towns and villages passed us by. All dominated by large Cathedrals (called Minsters). I thought that the Brits couldn’t spell by omitting the “i” (Minister”), but was corrected. A slight misunderstanding on my part: which will not be repeated until at least, the next time.

The Midland-Yorkshire of England had been awash. Plenty of rain and there was much evidence of it lying in the fields (we call them “paddocks in Australia”). Quickly into York and then a 15 minute walk to our quaint accommodation. My initial impression of York, had a large “Wow” component.

Fred had done well again. A small B&B near the large town gates on the northern side of the (somewhat flooded) Ouse River. Situated amid those typical terraced houses with chimneys pointed skyward: all forming a repetitive image down the street. Shop fronts of that ”typical” English Olde style a plenty just across and down the street. Very quaint.

It was early afternoon by now, so we thought it best to check out the very impressive York Minster just through the gates and wall: just a few hundred metres down the road. Fred had been here before a few years earlier with her elder sister, Jill. So, a ready made guide(ette). My offer of GBP1 to assist my inspection of the large Cathedral was rejected, so I decided to double it to GBP1.50. A quick evasive manoeuvre to avoid an oncoming thrust of her right leg was needed. Managed that: super reflexes and I must credit my 4 Weetbix per day. “Just how many do you do a day ?”

The history of York as a city, dates to the beginning of the first millennium AD but archaeological evidence for the presence of people in the region of York dates back much further to between 8000 and 7000 BC. As York was a town in Roman times its Celtic name is recorded in Roman sources: after 400 Anglo-Saxons took over the area and adapted the name to OldeEnglish Eoforwīc or Eoforīc, which means "wild-boar town" or "rich in wild-boar". The Vikings (we will hear heaps more about these “fine people” later), took over the area later, in turn adapted the name by folk etymology to Norse Jorvik meaning "horse bay." We will find out later that the Vikings (fine upstanding folk), would have been the more correct. 

After the Saxon settlement of the North of England, Anglian York was first capital of Deira and later Northumbria and by the early 7th century, York was an important royal centre for the Northumbrian kings. Following the Norman Conquest of 1066 York was substantially damaged, but in time became an important urban centre as the administrative centre of the county of Yorkshire York prospered during much of the later medieval era; the later years of the 14th and the earlier years of the 15th centuries were characterised by particular prosperity. During the English Civil War, the city was regarded as a Royalist stronghold and was besieged and eventually captured by Parliamentary forces. After the war, York slowly regained its former pre-eminence in the North and by 1660, was the third-largest city in England after London and Norwich.

The city is mostly surrounded by a large wall: which Fred and I have partially walked. It reminded me of the Dubrovnik wall in Croatia. This is not as large however, nonetheless still very impressive. We did the “Northern” section which took us behind the York Minster. This giving us a really size perspective of this massive structure. We will detail more about this later, but should there be a more massive and impressive structure then bring it on. Fred has said the Notre Dame and she reckons “York kills it”. We didn’t have to line up either. Just paid our GBP 9 and then straight in and off we went.

The Yorkshire accent is somewhere between the Scottish and the British. We have to concentrate when talking to them as they tend to drop the first letter. We experienced this when the lady that assisted our booking at York, came to our room to explain the “eating system”. “Just press these buttons on this pad and twist the dial”. After she went, I tried to order a Yorkshire pudding for 2. Couldn’t work out the buttons.... no menu selection. Pressing the buttons did seem to make the room warmer though. So we decided that one of the pubs would be able to satisfy our taste for such a “pud”.

We then walked a little bit of York. Very quaint, historical and pleasant. I reckon one could domicile themselves here, provided you could alter the weather. For the history buffs and those wanting to see some rather old world living , then York seems to be a place to be. I couldn’t survive the weather though. Touch wood, this had been quite good to us with coolish days and very light rain when it has fallen. On this occasion it appears we’re arriving just after a bad period of very cold and wet weather.

Our day was completed by having dinner in a quaint English pub in Central York. A Spanish bottle of Tempranillo: quite a good drop. My rump (the steak that is) was quite good, while Fred had a pork belly, English style. These mains were preceded with a duck pate with an exquisite strawberry jam combo. She noted that if the pate was from a “goose” that it may be an act of cannablism. Obviously making reference to somebody who shall remain unidentified.

York is such an easy place to get around in anything but a vehicle. Streets are very narrow: built back in the Middle Ages etc, what do you expect ? The latter being restricted by the very narrow streets. Transport facilities inside the city, encourage “park and ride” as there are very few if any parking spots in the main part. Even then, you have to pay to park and with the strict parking monitoring, trying to evade this, would bring about a few stiff and quick fines. 

Still, to this point, walking is our preferred mode of movement. Fred has gone on strike from the piggy-back gig. She has indicated that carrying me on her back, is a little too much to bear. I guess she sees it as a progressive move: my perspective is that it is rather backward.

More on York Minster and York itself later, as I am getting rather excited about tomorrow’s little expedition. You will just have to wait to read our next chapter. For a very simple individual such as myself, what is about to unfold is an experience I am going to treasure for sometime. 

Something where a great deal of planning has been undertaken to achieve ...... yes by Fred again. Goosebumps aplenty starting to be dermatologically positioned on “oneself”. Simply splendid. Potentially, better than Santa visiting !!

With regards the above, Fred reckons that more of the goose than bumps. I’m not sure I get this. What am I missing ? I didn’t want to stick my neck out on this one.