Thursday was our trip up north, to York. A two and a half hour train ride, on a very smooth train with tables, restrooms in every car – I wish America had not lost the art of train travel. It’s a great way to go.
As Greg said, walking into York felt a bit like walking into an Epcot version of a medieval town. Although it’s the real deal and there are many, many buildings that still stand from medieval times, it’s all super clean and brightly painted, full of people thoroughly enjoying themselves. In addition, there was a Christmas market set up in the center of town – carts selling roasted chestnuts, stalls full of handmade goodies, Christmas ornaments and wreaths, and some of the best fudge I’ve ever had! Maybe part of why it seemed so good was because the fudge seller was so adorable in his top hat with that wonderful Yorkshire accent
Two things that will attract Greg’s attention without fail: birds and food. So among the first pictures taken …
 Birds atop the crenelated town wall |  Traditional pasties – meat pies |
Poor Greg, we dragged him away from the pasty shop, and only got him to stop moaning about it by promising him a pasty when we go to Bath.
Some of the amazing little shops and pubs along the streets of York:
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We then toured Yorkminster. The cathedral was so overwhelming beautiful, and the layers and layers of history are fascinating. First we viewed the minster proper, then climbed the tower – although Alex, who is afraid of heights, was trying desperately to convince us that we didn’t need to see the tower.
 Inside the cathedral |  |
 The view of the moors from the top of the tower |  Part of the original town wall viewed from the tower |
 Good view of the flying buttresses, half way up the tower |  The top of the tower – thank goodness for that cage – the wind was frightening |
The undercroft is open to the public and has a fabulous exhibit of the history of the site. The cathedral was in danger of actually falling down and it had to be excavated beneath to fortify the structure. In the process, they found evidence of the earlier Saxon church, and large bits of the earlier Roman walls.
 Roman wall with drain |  Fragment of Roman wall decoration |
 Early Saxon church decoration |  Probably something from a Monty Python skit |
The last bit of the tour was of a stained glass window restoration, although when we came upon it we suspected some sort of alien trap:
Inside were several actual panels of stained glass that had been removed, cleaned and repaired. I’m sure I’ll never again have the opportunity to see the like again.
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After York Minster we walked over to what remains of York Castle where Isabel Hastings, one of Greg’s ancestors, was born. All that is left is Clifford’s Tower, which was nonetheless imposing at night.
Even though we had climbed (and descended) 275 steps up the York Minster tower, we still had to climb the steps up to the tower.
Rather looks like he belongs there, doesn’t he?
We finished the day with a tour of a few of the old pubs (as is proper) and a long train ride home.
(Alex was thoroughly annoyed with all the picture taking at this point.)
Friday took us to Stratford Upon Avon. What gorgeous countryside we travelled through! We found ourselves in a charming little Tudor town, which of course, capitalizes heavily on the Shakespeare connection.
Out, out, damned spot!
We toured Shakespeare’s birthplace, Anne Hathaway’s cottage (his wife), and two other homes associated with the family. The gardens at the homes might have been my favorite part.
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 Some sassy sheep in the pasture next to Anne Hathaway’s cottage |  |
We visited the church that houses the graves of Shakespeare and his family …
 Classy, huh? |  |
… and rounded out our tour of the town with a pint at the Black Swan pub where members of the Royal Shakespeare Company hang out, and then the Garrick Inn, where Shakespeare himself is reputed to have frequented.
 |  Three rowdy blokes from Birmingham that we chatted up at The Garrick |
 Fascinating antique glass in the pub windows |  The gents from Birmingham saluting us as our train pulled out of the station. They ‘re still jolly because they don’t yet know that their train has been cancelled |
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