York was 2 nights in a very comfortable and nicely decorated, but very small (VCANDBVS) room at the Water’s Edge. Julie turned out to be a very pretty brown-eyed blond who offered to do our laundry for L5 a bag. Well, we didn’t stuff the bags as full as we should have and apparently British washers and dryers are very small. So that was L20 for the lot — but they were all folded.
The B&B was on a river walk and next to the St. Mary’s Abbey/Museum Park and so we thought it would be lovely and quiet. Wrong. Party boats. 70’s and 80’s music and a DJ blaring, and a disco ball, and they went back and forth about 6 times the first night.
Yet More Food Adventures
That night we met up with David’s i-friend Martin, a charming young salt-and-pepper guy in a Viking rune aloha shirt — very cool. We ate at Betty’s — a famous York/Harrogate tea restaurant. The own Taylor’s of Harrogate Teas and import their own coffees — the food is super-rich Swiss/British.
The decor was very opulent, as if a Dorothy L. Sayers scene might have taken place there. They had old newspaper ads framed up with smart ’30’s ladies with gloves, hat and little girls in tow, saying crisply to the maid “We shall not be in for lunch Mary, we shall have luncheon at Betty’s.”
Again, very good food, also again, David had to avoid rich, creamy stuff, but we had a good time visiting with Martin. We spent the next day (Sunday) dawdling in the historic district, and I went to church at the Minster, while David found an Internet cafe. We walked along the River Ouse for a long way, and realized we could walk to the train station. Duh!
Then, the second night we found our way to the castle (closed) and walked down all the old streets and The Shambles. Dinner was at the Concerto Cafe, just inside the old gate of Monk’s Bar. The party boat that night wasn’t as bad.
Afterwords – February 28, 2004
Things started to move fast for us in York. We took a direct train from Oxford up, which was the main reason we cut our stay short in the Cotswolds, because I wanted to get to York by the weekend. We needn’t have bothered, as York was more crowded and noisy then, but oh, duh is me. We took a lot of pictures in the short time we were there, which I’ll add below.
We were very close to the old city walls at the Water’s Edge, and David was impressed on the one hand at the antiquity of the nearby river side watchtower, and yet when we peeked inside it, it was full of trash and one or two used condoms and needles. Not too delicious or even unusual in an urban setting, but somehow more shocking in the setting. The everyday ordinaryness of very old buildings in England – some ruinous, some still in use – kept us entertained as we wandered around York, so that when we saw an old ruin being used badly, it bothered us.
Julie, our hostess, had a very bright eye and was very perky. She reminded me of an old, old childhood friend of the same name, so I took to her right away. Sadly, after we complimented her on the room and the B&B, she said she was selling up and moving to the country. Wonderful for her, sad for tourists looking for a nice place to stay. It was in a very nice little row of bowfront houses on the river walk, although there were some signs of neglect. I hope it’s not a trend, it looked like a wonderful area.
And it was a wonderful place for a drive along the river.
We walked along into the center of York – we were about 5 minutes walk away, and of course the museum gardens were just across the dead-end street (St Marygate). On my very first trip to England with my mom – about 1987?? – we stayed in the same area, and I thought then it would be nice to stay in a place right on the river. I was mostly right about that, except for the extremely boring and tacky party boats.
We had arranged with Martin to meet at the Water’s Edge, since there was a big public parking lot right behind there. It was fun to meet up with another acquaintance – he and David IM all the time about technical matters, so it was a given that we would get together with him when we got near York (he lives near Harrogate).
I’m not kidding about Betty’s – it was the best experience. We ended up eating there twice. The first night with Martin, we ate at the main location and I had “rotti” – a Swiss potatos-and-cheese concoction that was just incredible. The whole place is beautifully carved wood, brass, lead-glass windows, and delicious smells wafting as waiters hustle past bearing food. The bakery and gift shop part of the restaurant made me pause with mouth watering, but as we were on the go I resisted temptation.
Damn, though, I should have bought some tea cakes for the ladies at church. Fortunately, they have a website, and now we seem to be on their mailing list, too.
The next day after our church and Internet obligations were fulfilled, we stumbled upon a medieval re-enactment at Barley Hall. There were several rooms to visit, with people portraying accountants, kitchen help, and various and sundry household attendants. We chatted with several of them – they went about their business, either counting money and holding court hearing complaints from peasants, or tuning instruments, or making ready for the feast at the end of the day. Refreshingly, they didn’t speak in archaic dialect – they were matter-of-fact about the tasks they were performing and the role they played in the medieval household of a well-to-do person of status. It was fascinating.
After that, we felt the need of a little something, and started looking for someplace to havel lunch. That was when we found “Betty’s Upstairs,” the other branch of the restaurant. More good food – that was decorated more in the ’30’s vein and had the old framed newspaper ads. They looked like original proofs, and were evidence that they’d kept good files (and that the business was in the same hands for a long time).
We didn’t have a plan, though later we realized we would have enjoyed booking on to one of the many “haunted walking tours of York.” We just wandered around in a relaxed manner, taking in the atmosphere. I’ve been to York twice before, and each time enjoyed it more. There’s been more development since my last visit, and it mostly seems to be pretty sensitive to the historic context, with one or two jarring examples (a big American chain hotel over by the castle, etc.).
We also stopped in at a pub for a while after dinner – the Three Legged Mare, which wasn’t smoky, had no kids underfoot, and featured a handy gallows out back (hence the name). It was a nice place to hang, good beer, seemed like a lively crowd. Pretty soon, though, it was time to head for bed and the dreaded party boat, but that only went by once or twice. Yay.
We packed our neatly folded, clean, and enormously expensive laundry away because the next day we were leaving for Scotland.