Tuesday, April 7: What Happens in York Stays in York

At around 9:00 this morning Brian went foraging for baked goods and juice for our breakfast. He scored some fresh, flaky chocolate croissants at a store down the street. We packed up our daily supplies and set upon York.

We walked to the York Minster, a gorgeous gothic cathedral reminiscent of the Notre Dame in Paris. We went inside briefly to gawk at the interior, but decided against paying for a tour. A few of us were ready to get back to the stores they wanted to go to yesterday.

First we stopped at the Japanese print store—gorgeous older woodblock prints for anywhere from $150 to my favorite print which turned out to be $12,000. Closer to our price range were the antique Japanese matchbook covers, which were framed and cost something like $60 each. Next was the fair trade store, and the third on the must-see list, The Armoury. 

Here we saw weapons and armor from many points in history and alternate history. For instance, in a special stand right at the front, there was The Master Sword (not that I would’ve known what it was). The Master Sword is very important to players of the videogame Zelda, apparently. I was going to take a pic of Natalie with it, but the clerk informed me there should be no photography of any kind. This fit with the feeling of being in a small, overcrowded museum. 

There was a lot of oohing and aahing that I did not understand, and as we were about to exit, Natalie wondered aloud about how we could get a sword home. The clerk stepped in helpfully to let us know that there are perfectly legal ways of packaging it for check-in at the airport. I said, “She really just wants the Master Sword.”  He responded, “Why wouldn’t she want a Master Sword?” as he whipped out his wallet to show us the Zelda emblem on the front. Kindred souls exist all over the place; it’s a whole nerd network poised to overthrow the world.

Onward. Next on the agenda was the York Castle Museum. William the Conqueror built the first portion of the fortress here in 1068, and different parts have been added or taken away ever since. The actual castle was ordered up by Henry III at the top of a mound with a moat around it. The walls are still there, and if you walk on the top of them you get great views of the city—there are beautiful, historic buildings everywhere you turn. 

In the far distance we could just make out the beginning of the moors. There was truly no way to fit the moors into our itinerary, but I did briefly consider the possibility of driving out there one of these two nights in York. The moors, for lit majors, represent all things Brontë, which is a good thing to most of us. For Brian, not so much. I asked him which of those novels he had to read in college—I thought maybe it was “Wuthering Heights.” He responded, “Which was the really terrible one?” I am in a mixed marriage, what can I say?

The rest of the castle grounds are spread around a bit, and you can tour what was the prison area. There are a bunch of rooms that are decorated to different time periods, and a replica of a Victorian downtown. It’s a fun museum.  

Everyone was hungry by then as it was mid-afternoon, so we nabbed some sandwiches at a Cornish bakery and kept going to the Railway Museum. Railroad enthusiasts would be in ecstasy. They have trains of every make and model in England, and another room that holds engine cars of all sorts. If Carsten and Louise had been with us, their little boys would have been torn between running around to all the trains and playing in a huge train-themed play area. We got a kick out of all the children with their English accents, asking politely “to stay a bit longer.” Of course they can get just as demanding as any kids, but they sound so proper! 

The Railway Museum is huge, well-kept, and it is free, which turned out to be a good thing as our offspring dragged their way through it, sitting down at every opportunity and surveying the scene with waning enthusiasm.

There was one train that wasn’t much different from the trains we took all over Europe in our 20s, 2 benches facing a table. A TV showed promotional films that advertised taking the train in the 1960s, and it showed a mother and daughter working on a jigsaw puzzle together. At which Brian scoffed and said “Obviously this is pre-videogames!”

After the Railway Museum, we were finished. We stopped on the way back for ice cream cones, and the girls and I hung back to check out an antiquarian bookstore. As we made our way back to the hotel, we walked along the old city wall a bit and discovered a small church, St. Olaves, where someone was practicing the organ and the door to the back graveyard was open. The graves, some of which dated back to the 1700s, were in a well-tended garden that was bordered along the back by the ruined wall of some gothic building. We went back through the church and around to the back, where we found the gardens of the Yorkshire Museum, set in the ruins of the St. Mary’s Abbey. It was an incredibly beautiful spot on this, another sunny, blue-skied day, and Natalie was in her glory.

You can't help think about the powerful people who made all these epic, grand gestures--fortresses, castles, cathedrals. They poured their money and power and people into their efforts, and they must've felt some satisfaction in creating lasting monuments. Yet some of the most beautiful things we've found on this trip have been in complete ruin, and the people who were behind their existence are pretty much footnotes in history to us. The broken remains are what inspire us now.

We all took a break for the remainder of the afternoon, sleeping, playing with phones, etc. And then it was time for dinner at a pub, something Brian’s been looking forward to for a while. We’ve been talking about what might be a traditional pub dinner—Brian and Natalie hoping for fish and chips, Andrew considering bangers and mash. Then there was Allison. She was fighting this with all her might.

First, she was sure she wouldn’t like the food. She and Brian had the following conversation:

Brian: “Allison, have we ever taken you anywhere where you couldn’t find anything you wanted to eat?”

Allison: “Yes, lots of times.”

B: “I mean, on this trip.”

A: “Uh-huh.”

B: “I mean, in the last two days.”

A: “No. But now you have totally narrowed it down too much, Dad.”

Natalie: “She’s right, Dad.”

Somehow we got her to get going. On the way there, she was telling me that it wasn’t right, she shouldn’t be going to a pub. There were bad people there. It was a bad place. We kept talking, and she was unconvinced.

We sat inside a nice pub, no dangerous people in sight. Also no other kids, which she attributed to it being a bad place. She promptly noticed a blinking, electronic game machine nearby.

“Is that a machine for gambling?!” she asked, horrified.

“Um, yes, it kind of is,” I admitted. Something like the video poker machines at Uccello’s.

“I TOLD you this was a bad place!” Her indignant, self-righteous anger was evident and hilarious. We tried hard not to laugh but couldn’t manage it. We're pretty sure she would've been a great leader during Prohibition.

She eventually ate a whole meal of steak and fries, enjoying it all, and seemed mollified. On the way out the door, Brian said, “show me any dangerous people you see here.” She looked left and right and said “I don’t see any right now, but you never know who might come in.” She’s got us there. You never know.

On the way back, just as we left the restaurant, the cathedral bells began pealing in a beautiful melody. It seems the ringers practice the carillon on Tuesday nights, and we happened to be in the right place at the right time. We were all stopped in our tracks, amazed. Natalie murmured something about all the things she wished she could always have in her daily life.

So, the perfect sword, a glorious ruin, dangerous people, the sound of heaven; you never know.