Arriving in York

one of two bridges that frame the city center

Today we drove 4.5 hours to York, Yorkshire England. Along the way, we stopped for a sack lunch on the beach of the North Sea. It was chilly and foggy but peaceful and beautiful; I love the grays and blues and vastness of a “cold beach.” We were joined by the “Westerners,” but the two groups separated for the following week as they went on to Durham when we headed for York. Stevens told us Durham is a small, depressed town with a cathedral and York is much better, a bustling city.

We stayed at the Racecourse Conference Centre of York for the next five days. During the race season, it hosts people and horses racing. It was nice but not terribly lovely on the inside, so I imagine that perhaps it is the horse trainers and jockeys who stay here and not the owners – who knows, though. The workers are fantastically welcoming and nice but the food is a rather lacking, or, rather, lacking in things other than potatoes. I have had potatoes in more forms this week than I knew possible. The quarters around the centre are great for walking around. There are bunnies hopping everywhere and there is a walking/biking/running track with a field in the center located inside what I think looks like a practice or holding area for the horses. It is beside a large racing arena. There were always people playing flag rugby or walking their dogs (including a few miniature schnauzers) and the track was great for a morning run.

We dined at the Stone Trough Inn our first evening in York. Before dinner, we had a bit of a “cocktail hour”; European Studies covered our first beverage, so I tried cider for the first time with a pint of Strong Bow. I had a brie tartlet for my first course, roast beef and Yorkshire pudding (like a big hunk of bread similar to a role with a tangy taste that is odd to me) for my second, and ended my meal with a cheese board and coffee – lots of cheese! The restaurant + pub was exactly what you would imagine a cozy pub in the English countryside to be like: dark woods, low ceilings, fireplaces, reds and greens. We all ate at two long tables in front of a large fireplace. It was busy with other people, whose faces as we pulled up clearly showed they were disappointed to see a big coach bus coming. Stevens added to the satisfying authenticity of the restaurant with, “This is not a place that usually host big tourist groups.” 

toes in the north sea

lunch on the beach

beach photos credit: Mary Kate Mullen