York 3 April 2023

Our visit to York back in 2010 was brief with no overnight stay. We knew then that we needed a return visit and we also knew that parking is limited in York so had sourced a central hotel that provided parking. 

The 5 hour drive from Cardiff to York was mainly on the motorway, and at most junctions there was a seamless flow to the next motorway. 

After about 3 hours our GPS indicated that we should stop for a rest. I had noted that Ashby de la Zouch looked like it may be on our pathway. This spot is significant to us as our friends Terry and Debbie’s surname is Zouch and we have always talked about them visiting it one day. So what better place to stop for a cuppa.

Toasted tea cake

We had no idea what sort of town it would be and were pleasantly surprised to find a really lovely village. Again parking looked like a problem so we moved a short way out of town and found a very quaint tea house, with a park out side. On returning to our car later we noticed that is was a park for ‘permit holders only’. Hopefully there were no cameras to issue a ticket!

Back on the road we proceeded to York. If you have ever been to York you will be able to picture the madness at 4pm with the narrow streets clogged with traffic, bicycles and trucks. After a couple of panicked wrong turns and loops around the block we landed at The Dean Court Hotel which is located pretty much on the York Minsters doorstep!

The instructions given were to pull into the hotel and someone will park the car, and you know how you have a picture in your head? Mine was of a typical hotel forecourt, and nothing like the wee parking spot alongside the ancient brick hotel.

A guy in a formal looking outfit with vest and tie was just lighting up his cigarette and we thought “Oh no, the valet has just started his break’. 

But Frank, as we came to know him, saw us with our stressed faces, stubbed out his ciggy and came over and asked in his lovely Irish accent “Would you be wanting the hotel then?”

We replied yes and that we had been doing loops to find it. “You’re not the first and ye won’t be the last” and he promptly divested us of our luggage and showed us inside.

After a quick checkin Frank showed us around the place, right down to the order of where things will be sitting on the counter for breakfast.

The two of us squeezed in the elevator, and I mean squeezed, there was no room for any baggage and our noses were almost touching, romantic you may think, but remember we had that garlicky pizza bread the previous night. 

Frank pulled the elevator door open on our floor and we fell out into the corridor. Once again he showed us around pointing out how to turn the heater on etc. “And if ye bring  up a bottle of wine, just call us and we’ll bring up glasses and an ice bucket, if ye don’t ask, then ye don’t get.”

Lance had a rest after his long drive and I popped out for a looksie and to locate Frank’s recommendation for dinner. 

The bells were peeling at the York Minster and they played a variety of things, I wondered if they were practicing for the coronation. 

Those of you who know me will know that my sense of direction is not very good, so I made a point of noting where I was and thought that it was lucky that we were beside the Minster because I should be able to see it from everywhere.

After a bit of a ramble I got to the shambles and the market. Ready to turn back the Minster was nowhere in sight. The narrow alleyways provided no visibility so I had to resort to google maps, one of my closest allies.

This little church has two doors, One is tiny and called the devils door. When a baby was baptised the devils door was left open so he could leave the baby.

Refreshed we made our way to the Hole in the Wall, a very old pub just around the corner. Sitting next to a couple from Utah we had a good old chat before tucking into our not very healthy meal, but good all the same. 

They had an open mic night so we decided to stay on. The first three acts were musicians and were pleasant enough to listen to. The fourth was a comedian, but not.

 He was so bad we didn’t wait for another and went home to bed. 

The next morning we boarded the hop on hop off bus and did a circuit around the town. It was great and we heard loads of information about the history of the walled city of York. 

Clifford’s Tower

The blossom is so plentiful that it lays like a carpet and at times it is like it is snowing.

York was founded by ancient Romans around 71AD. The Vikings invaded  the then Anglo Saxon city in 866AD and were led by Ivar The Boneless (same middle name as Winnie The Pooh and Jack The Ripper) and they named the city Jorvik.

We alighted to go to the Jorvik Viking Centre as I had heard that it was very good. And it was so good that we were going to have to wait for an hour to get in. A point to note is that you should book online tickets for this place. So we left it for another time. 

The Shambles is always a lovely place to wander around. And you can just imagine someone like Dick Turpin riding through the streets. In fact his headstone is tucked away in a churchyard here. Although it is believed that he does not rest here and that the headstone was added a couple of centuries ago for tourists.

We have noticed that all of the cake shops look home made and delicious. No dry cakes with icing too pink here!  Unfortunately or maybe fortunately we didn’t manage to partake in cake, but I did have a dream last night that there was a huge piece in of cake on offer and I thought that I shouldn’t eat it.  And then in my dream I thought “hang on, this is a dream so I can eat it without guilt!”

We departed York at around 1pm and Frank was there ready to get the car and pack our bags in. He shook Lance’s hand and then turned and gave me a bear hug and a smacker of a kiss on my cheek! 

Our next destination was Newcastle, an almost 2 hour drive, and just a stopover before our flight to Dublin the following morning. 

Stopping at the gas station in Newcastle, to fill up before dropping off the car, we felt the northern chill at full blast. Lance had hopped out to man the pump in shorts and T-shirt. When he got back in he was almost blue! And was shivering for quite sometime. It was 8 degrees Celsius with an icy wind. 

Dropping off the car was a breeze and they dropped us to the Doubletree Hilton airport hotel which was a quick walk from the airport. 

In check in the lovely lass pulled two brown paper bags out from under the counter and gave them to us as a welcome. Oh my goodness, they were the most deliciously warm chocolate chip cookies with huge hunks of melted chocolate oozing out. 

I write this now on the flight to Dublin. We are soon to land in the Emerald Isle and the accents around us confirm that we are on the correct flight. And the fact that our British pounds were no good to buy a cuppa and snack on the plane.