Saturday was another stay at home day for the travelers. We started with our full English breakfast and then settled in for some housework. Completed a few loads of laundry, did a little housekeeping and Deb managed to complete some work on her computer on behalf of some clients. As it was raining off and on most of the day, we started a fire in the cast iron stove heater in the lounge and enjoyed our martini and G&T in front of the fire. Mark pan-fried our lamb chops and Deb prepared some red beans and rice we had brought with us from home.
Around 7:30, Deb wandered into the kitchen to refresh her drink and noticed that the floor was covered in water. We quickly surmised that the back garden area was flooding from a downburst and it was coming in over the back door sill. We couldn’t open the back door as that would let in more water, so Mark put on his rain jacket and walked around the building to the entrance to the back garden to fetch the mop and bucket from the shed. We contacted the landlord who in turn called the local cleaning person to come over and help. By this time the water was over an inch deep in spots and was threatening to flow into the hardwood floors in the rest of the lower level. Armed with the bucket and some large towels, we began to sop up the water, wring it into the bucket, and then Mark would haul the full bucket out the front door to pour into the street as the rain continued to come down.
Rowan, the cleaning person, noted that the kitchen had often been wet in years past, but never to this degree. The problem stemmed from the fact that there is a low spot outside the kitchen door into which a drain is set that flows under the buildings, across the street and empties into the creek. The downspouts from all three attached houses flow into this one drain point and it was overwhelmed. The Victorian era drainage lines under the street could not keep up.
By 9:30 we had soaked up all the water and laid rolled up towels along the threshold to stop further water. We thanked Rowan for her help and eventually bedded down for the night. The next morning, all was clear although the drain area was still slightly filled. The Gunnerside Ghyll (creek) was running full and we were hoping that the rain did not wash out any of the road as we were headed to York for a two day outing.
We departed Gunnerside around 11:00 to head for Haworth and then York for a two day trip away from the cottage. We first arrived at Haworth, just west of the metropolis of Leeds around 1:30 PM. Our destination was the Brontë Parsonage, the home of the Brontë sisters, authors of such classics as Wuthering Heights and Jane Eyre. This home is now a museum maintained by the Brontë Society and is outfitted just as it would have been in the time period. Many of the furnishings are original and the placards describing each room were very informative. Entry is by separate ticket, and we were to wait in the front garden until our name was called. this is a somewhat curious procedure, but became apparent as we made our way inside. The facility is not large and the entry process allows the staff to control the number of people in the home at any one time. This was one of the best museum presentations we have ever encountered. It was informative, educational and unobtrusive. Although there were some children , there were no dogs, as is usually the case anywhere we have been in England. Parking is a bit tough as the public lot available is not nearly large enough. Sunday is a big outing day in England and the village of Haworth was crowded.
We left Haworth half past Two and pointed the Kia in the direction of York, our destination city for the next two nights. We arrived and found our way to our overnight accommodations, Jorvik Hotel, just by the ancient walls surrounding the old city.
We checked in and stowed our bags on the first floor (the one above ground level) and headed out for a bit of a walk around. The old city is a vehicular restricted area, so the streets were filled with roving pedestrians with their dogs in tow. We finally found what appeared to be a likely prospect for our evening meal - The Guy Fawkes Inn. Purportedly this building was the one into which the rebellious traitor was born. We chose to sit in the open rear courtyard, as it was protected from the wind and seemed very pleasant. We ordered drinks at the bar and placed our meal orders. Our first clue that something was amiss was that the server requested us to pay for our meals as soon as we had ordered, holding his little card machine out for our card tap. We had never encountered this before, but we went along. Within moments, our meals arrived - a slab of pork loin roast and a slab of roast beef. Both were supposed to be accompanied by mashed potatoes, Yorkshire Pudding, vegetables and gravy. The gravy came separately, the vegetables turned out to be a bowl of boiled-to-mush cabbage and carrots, and the potatoes were not mashed but rather peeled, halved and pan fried. Both cuts of meat were so tough that they would not cut with the knives provided. These knives would not even cut the potatoes! Mark managed to carve off a bit of his pork, Deb could not get a single bite of her beefsteak cut and the vegetables, while hot, were unappetizing and cooling rapidly. We finished our ale and wine and quietly left; easily the worst meal we have encountered in England and one of the worst ever in our travels.
Next morning, we arose and were in the hotel reception area waiting for our pick up to the start of our day long tour of the North Yorkshire Moors, another national park area. Our guide and driver, Peter, arrived only a few minutes behind schedule in a fairly new, Ford 8 passenger van. Although the tour was scheduled for 6 passengers, one couple was a no-show so it was just us and our new acquaintances Catriona and her mother Siriphorna Duncan. These two ladies were on holiday from their home in Richmond outside of London and had been in the Yorkshire area for a week. This was their penultimate day on the road, headed back on the train to London the next day.
This day long tour, a 40th wedding anniversary gift from our children, was a drive through the moors and farmland of the York plateau following the byways and country roads. The end portion of the trip was to be a steam locomotive ride from the village of Goathland, on the north east coast, down to Pickering. Before we even stepped into the van, Peter, with a sad look on his face, informed us that the bad news was that the steam locomotive had been replaced by a diesel locomotive. The excessive dryness and heat in the area prevented the use of the steam engine, due to the fire risk, sparks, coal embers, etc. Oh well! Off we went. Peter is an excellent tour guide with an encyclopedic knowledge of the Yorkshire area. We stopped in the Village of Helmsly for a walk about, restroom break and a cup of coffee and scone from a take away bakery and then back in the van for more touring. We crossed the moors, stopped at the top of one of the lead mining areas for a walk around the kilns and a view out over the Dales below and then eventually into the town of Whitby on the northeast coast. Originally a fishing and shipbuilding town, it is now much given over to tourism. We started our 2 hour walk at the Abbey ruins at the top of the cliff, descended the 199 steps to the old village area and joined the throngs of tourists, all with dogs on a leash, children also on a leash or running loose, and prams galore.
We stopped in one shop for a purchase, and then, together with our travel mates, walked to the Magpie Restaurant for reputedly the best fish and chips in all of Great Britain. Evidently the crowd queued up at the front door concurred. After a 20 minute wait, we were seated and looked over the menu. It was a forgone conclusion - we ordered the fish and chips, some beer and wine. The fish choices were huge, but the defining description of cod versus haddock made the choice easy - the cod was skinless under the batter, the haddock was skin-on. All our diners picked cod! We waited an inordinate amount of time, considering the number of diners packed into the restaurant. They obviously were used to the rush, but may have had to send a boat out to catch more fish. Eventually we received our piping hot meals and had to agree that it was some of the best fish and chips we’ve encountered on the trip.
We were due back at our pick up point at 1:55. We arrived at 2:01, and Peter was afraid he had lost all four of us. Deb’s phone rang as we were crossing the parking lot to the agreed upon spot and told him we could see him ahead and were almost there. Crisis averted. Off we headed for our 2:50 scheduled train departure from Goathland, a few miles down the road from Whitby. This train station is the one depicted in the Harry Potter movies as Hogmeade Station and it truly looks it. This was the reason for the steam locomotive, but we made do with the diesel.
We stood on the overhead trestle, filming the arrival of the train and then boarded for the one hour trip to Pickering, only actually a 20 mile distance but over some steep inclines. As this is a single track line, we were twice shunted to a layover track as other trains passed us by. Hence the slow progress. the scenery was nice, but nothing dramatic. We spent the time sitting in our booth, face to face with our two new friends getting to know a bit about them.
Peter met us in Pickering and we loaded back into the van for our drive back into the City of York. We passed through some more villages, crossed the estate and saw Castle Howard in the distance, and finally arrived back in York shortly after 5:00. We said goodbye to our traveling companions, climbed the steps to our hotel room, and settled in to decide what we wanted to do for the evening. We were tired from a long day of driving and walking so didn’t feel like fighting any crowds to find a place to eat. We stayed in, finished off the provisions we had brought with us - chips, crackers, rice cakes and wine, and read until we couldn’t keep our eyes open. Another day of intense touring gone.
Tuesday morning we parked up our traveling bags, checked out of the Jorvik Hotel and stowed our bags in the car trunk. We then strolled through the St. Mary’s Abbey ruins and gardens on into the old town area of York. Our first destination is a restaurant called Betty’s which is known for its breakfasts and afternoon tea service. This restaurant chain (there are three in England) was founded by a Swiss immigrant in 1919 and the food was glorious and the service impeccable. There was a line at the door when we arrived around 9:30, but the wait wasn’t too long. We were seated and ordered a full English with scrambled eggs and a Swiss Rösti breakfast with a poached egg. The Swiss Rösti leaves off the toast and sausage but serves a poached egg on top of a huge pancake of hash brown potatoes made with cream and Gruyère cheese. Absolutely amazing.
Following breakfast we were out to explore York on foot. We wandered the streets, spent some time in the Shambles Alley and its attendant market square and did some serious people watching. Shambles Alley is the spot that JK Rowling based Diagon Alley on for the Harry Potter novels. The replica at Universal Studios in Los Angeles looks exactly like the real thing, less all the magic craft store fronts.
Thankfully, there were only two stores that were trading off the novel’s fame, selling souvenirs and other items (wands etc.)
Next we stood in line to enter the York Minister, one of the grandest cathedrals in England and the one with the largest stained glass windows. The wait was long as the web site used for pre-booking was off line this morning, causing most people, such as ourselves, to stand in line to buy tickets. Once inside we wandered the huge area, crossing the transepts and looking in wonder at the windows, pipe organ and the general layout. Lots of statues of famous clerics and pastors, wealthy people’s graves and other spots just like all the other English Cathedrals we have been in. The stained glass was wonderful; some were closed off for restoration, and the entire cathedral seems to be one continuous historic renovation site.
After our tour through the cathedral, we walked back to our car and by 1:00 we were on the roads headed out of York and onto the smaller town of Thirsk. We really didn’t have a specific reason to go to Thirsk, just that it was the location of the veterinary practice of the real James Herriot (James Alfred Wight.) There is an “All Creatures” museum in Thirsk at the site of his original Veterinary Surgery. We never did get into the town of Thirsk, only drove through it. Our reason for not stopping was we became distracted when we spotted a White Horse on the way towards Thirsk and started a chase to find a spot where we could properly photograph it. The famous white horses of southern England are cut into the chalk hills and are therefore permanently white, some prehistoric and some not so old. The Uffington White Horse outside of Thirsk was created in 1857 by local volunteers and is cut into limestone. It is the largest White Horse in England. Since limestone is naturally grey, not white, the horse was originally whitewashed with tons of lime to appear white. In present times the whiteness is maintained by covering it with chalk chips from another area of Yorkshire. It may be that the chips were recently renewed, as the horse was very white.
We drove some small roads and eventually pulled into a road rising into a hayfield for our view and photo. Next to where we pulled into the field, a batch of cattle milled around the gate adjoining, mooing and bellowing. Apparently they were expecting us to feed them as there was a stacks of freshly cut bales of hay. we just thanked them for their time and apologized for our intrusion, driving away leaving them to chew their cuds.
We drove onward into Leyburn, the location of our favorite grocery stores and picked up some supplies we knew were low at the Burnside Cottage and then rolled into Gunnerside at 4:00. We unloaded the car, put away our supplies and then adjourned to the front garden area for a martini and a G&T. We cooked another set of cheeseburgers for dinner and then spent the balance of the evening reading, retiring at a respectable 10:00.
