Day 6: Detours, a walking tour, and another evensong

When the lovely but OCD Pauline of Darlington, UK, learned that we were driving down to York the next day, she said, Oh, you must take a small detour to Runswick Bay. you will be so glad that you did.

Detours are our best thing, so we set off all hale and hearty the next morning, ready to detour to Runswick Bay, whatever that was, drive through and maybe hike on the North Yorkshire Moors, and arrive in York in time to meet our own personal Viking for a tour of the city. York is almost directly south of Darlington but we would be making a loop to the east coast and back.

It wasn't too long before we could see the ocean. 

I wasn't sure why we had to go to Runswick Bay as the reason wasn't given, but I was prepared to be delighted.
And delighted we were as we pulled into the tiny little village that was perched on the side of a cliff. This view is from the road above the village before we went down to it.

Being cheap, as always, we tried to find a free parking spot and so we went around this very tiny traffic roundabout and down a narrow road between houses, but the only outcome was the usual one: I had to do a 12-point turn at the end of the road and retrace our path.

So we parked in the Pay'n'Park lot and trusted our chances of not getting a ticket if we did a quick 5-minute tour of the place without paying our pound. I really start to resent having to pay for every single parking space after being in the UK for more than a few days.

And it was so unbearably beautiful that we were glad we detoured.

After our whistle-stop (as one of our hosts described our method of traveling) we forged on. The scenery was endlessly breathtaking.

And pretty soon we were in the middle of the moors, a place I have wanted to visit ever since I first read The Secret Garden all those years ago. Sadly, we missed the heather in bloom by about two weeks, but when given a choice of heather in bloom plus crowds, versus heather brown and no crowds, we will take the lack of crowds any day.

We found a rest area right by the Levisham Estate, a large area of moors and valleys which was in private hands until 1976, when the National Park Authority purchased it. This particular area is called the Hole of Horcum, a 400 ft. deep hollow, about 3/4 of a mile across, which sounds like something from a Harry Potter story. It was once a narrow valley, but spring water welling up from the hillsides caused erosion of the rock and gradually, over thousands of years, widened the valley into the cauldron shape that it is now.

There were many paths criss-crossing the valley and we were dying to follow them, but we were both desperate to find a toilet and, as usual, there were none in sight. So pragmatism won the day and we drove regretfully on, resolving to return on some future trip.

We arrived in York in good time, thanks to our full bladders, so we checked in at our room for the night and fell in love with the hosts and the house. It was an old renovated railway house and was so full of light and enthusiastically decorated and the host had a fresh chocolate cake waiting for us, of which Jeff took full advantage. Luckily, the lovely Alison had been baking for a fundraiser she was hosting the following day and she had some nice gluten-free macaroons, so I wasn't left drooling in the background. Seriously, we meet some of the loveliest people when we rent rooms through airbnb. We raved about them to ourselves all day long.
After Jeff's gorging of the chocolate cake, which I am still regretting missing out upon, we drove to a nearby shopping mall to park the car and catch the bus into York.
Some things are not worth fighting, and parking in York is one of them.
York was a Viking capital in the 10th century and its history is complicated. We met our Viking, Neil, in the centre of town and he proceeded to give us a very private, informative, and funny tour of the Viking history sites of the city.
And on the way we passed the Viking museum where his girlfriend works, so we had to get a photo. Aren't they cute?

This is Clifford's Tower, part of York Castle that was first built by William the Conqueror in 1068. Like all British castles, it has seen much destruction and rebuilding in different forms. Clifford's Tower may be named after the rebel Richard de Clifford, who was executed in 1322 and whose body was hung on a gibbet at the castle. 

One of the more egregious events in local history took place in York Castle in 1190. Anti-Jewish sentiment was inflamed by King Richard I's announcement of his intention to join the Crusades. Violence followed tension in York and the community of Jews took refuge in the wooden keep of the castle. They were held at seige by an angry mob and were led by their rabbi in a mass suicide rather than be captured. Men killed their wives and children and then set fire to the keep. An estimated 150 Jews died, either at their own hands, in the fire that followed, or (in the case of the few who surrendered) at the hands of the mob. 

We stood by the river and listened to more history of the battles that took place here, and of which I remember absolutely nothing!

Then we walked up some narrow streets and learned more historical tidbits.

Like the reason that houses are often built to hang over the street is that they were taxed on the footprint of the house, so any extra square footage above ground level didn't count.

The Shambles is a very old and quaint shopping area.

Off in the distance is York Minster, and our footsteps were leading us in that direction.

And then Neil walked us to York Minster just as a fierce wind arose, and we had to shelter by the walls or be blown over. We parted ways and Jeff and I went into the cathedral to have a look around and get out of the wind. As luck would have it, evensong had just begun and the strains of song were echoing faintly in the far end of the cathedral. 

Now, there was an entry fee for the cathedral, but when we asked if we could attend evensong, no fee was charged, so WIN for us! And we finally got to hear our all-male choir. It was heavenly. 

When we came out of evensong, blinking in the early evening light, the wind had died down some and we went looking for stairs to the old York city wall, which was a non-negotiable item on the itinerary.

You can follow the wall around most of the old city, and it was my aim to do just that. Unfortunately, the walls are closed at dusk so we knew we wouldn't have time for the whole thing, but were hoping for at least this one section. Here I am, in all my scarf-headed glory. It was chilly in spite of the waning sunlight.

There were some interesting sights from the wall, from back gardens of houses to more views of the cathedral.

And only a few minutes into our walk we were met by a man walking in the opposite direction who informed us that he was closing the wall. And I swear it was still an hour before dark. Rude!

So we sadly retraced our steps and bought ourselves some dinner at the York Roast Co to eat on the bus on the way back to the mall. I had a roasted pork dinner that I had been coveting for days. I have missed pork crackling for most of my life.
By the time we got back to our car it was dark and we were happy to call it a day.
We decided that York is a place that will see us again, for more than a few hours next time.