I get directions to my hotel at the TI booth and head out. After a few blocks, I lose confidence in the directions I've received and consult a city map posted next to a bus stop. After five to ten minutes of reassuring myself, I start out again. I always act this way in a new city. I guess it's because I've gotten lost so many times or in some cases just got bad information. It's not that I'm map challenged; it's that as soon as I fold up the map, I start questioning my own memory of what I just saw.
Sure enough, as I draw close to the hotel, I get confused as to what direction to turn when an unexpectedly friendly hot dog vendor says, "Looking for the Britannia Sachas?" and points it out down the street.
On my way to the hotel, I notice how tacky this area is. My opinion of Manchester is reflected in the fact that I take no pictures. I'm sure there are interesting things to do in and around the city. Below, you can see a poster of Old Trafford Stadium where the world famous Manchester United Football Club plays. In this neighborhood, however, discos and slot machines are the major attractions to say nothing of the ladies of the evening who are out in the bright sun of a Saturday afternoon.
The hotel is old but serviceable. At one time it was a warehouse, which is verified by the fact that I have to spend an extra �10.00 to get a room with a window.
As I'm checking in, Tom greets me and we agree to meet in the bar. I say hello to Larry and finally meet Dave who does have a family name, Vierhus. The usual insulting banter that males engage in ensues as we finish off a couple glasses of stout. I feel a little sorry for Dave as Tom, Larry and I immediately begin telling "Mattel" stories, of which there is an unlimited supply.
We have dinner at a nearby Italian restaurant, walk to the train station to buy tickets for tomorrow, and upon arriving back at the hotel all agree it's beddy-bye time. I try to finish off "The DaVinci Code" but fall asleep before I can.
As you can see, the above photo is of the Monk Bar, which contains a Richard III Museum and also an operating portcullis. All of this right in the center of town. This juxtaposition of the old and the new is what makes York so fascinating. The city operates in and around these well-preserved ruins and buildings. I could not even begin to visit everything I wanted to. I must come back someday.
I sleep for over 10 hours. Thank you, Celebrex. I go down for breakfast. When this hotel says "proper English breakfast," they mean it. I saw one young man with a plate full enough to feed a small village for a week. I restrain myself but not much. I want to be in good shape to explore York Minster, the famous cathedral.
I head out into a driving drizzle so I decide to stop part way at a Burger King Internet Cafe to access my e-mail. Yes, it's true, a Burger King Cyber Cafe. It takes me 40 minutes just to purge the spam that made it through the Mail Guard filter. What a waste of time and energy. I'm afraid spam is going to be the death of the Internet.
I am brought up short at the smell of cigarette smoke. I realize I am shocked. I can't remember the last time I saw a smoker in a fast food restaurant. I worry that I'm becoming another "politically correct" anti-smoker person, me a three pack a day smoker until I quit 17 years, three months and 13 days ago. I also worry that, if I am bothered by second hand smoke, I'm going to have problems later when I get to Continental Europe, especially since I'll be traveling with a smoker for three weeks.
The drizzle lets up so I continue on to the cathedral. Wow! It is an awesome structure inside and out. I take some photos you can access on my York Minster and Castle Museum photo album site. Access the York Minster link to learn more about it. I can only say that, if York Minster was the only site I had visited, the trip to York would have been worthwhile.
But there's more. I must make a decision as to where to go next. I consult my travel guru, Rick Steves' recommendations and decide on the York Castle Museum. I am not disappointed. I pass on the more famous Jorvik, the Viking experience or as Tom Duff describes it "Pirates of the North Sea." (Disneyland veterans will recognize the allusion.)
The York Castle Museum covers 600 years of British history with a focus on everyday life. Pictures of the exhibits are The previously mentioned York Minster and Castle Museum album. The castle exterior itself is awesome plus, right outside the exit is Clifford's Tower , an imposing sight on its own.
So much to see and do and so little time. I head back to the hotel to get my bags. I'll be going to Manchester where I'm meeting my hiking companions. I plan to return to York someday. I could spend a week here and still have things left to do.
I slog to the train station only to discover, to my horror, that the train I thought I would take to Manchester is not on the departure board. In a somewhat panicky state, I check with the railroad information desk and find that there is a Manchester train leaving five minutes earlier. Later, I realize that the schedule I have requires a change of trains which is why my planned train isn't listed as going to Manchester - because it isn't. I guess the schedule I printed from the internet isn't totally accurate. I learn a lesson which I will unfortunately forget in Venice later on the trip but that's another story.
The train ride to Manchester is uneventful. I should be looking at the scenery but I'm hooked into "The DaVinci Code" by Dan Brown. I arrive at Piccadilly Station and after about a half mile walk find the front of the station.
One consideration in traveling by train in England and the rest of Europe is large cities having multiple train stations. In the U.S. only New York and Chicago have more than one station but London has six major stations as does Paris. If you are changing trains, it can become quite a hassle. Also if you want to book a hotel near your station, you've got to do a lot more planning.
First thing in the morning, not realizing I was entitled to a complimentary breakfast, I head for the nearest Starbuck's for my morning fix. Eating my coffee and muffin breakfast, I finish "The DaVinci Code." I am now happy for two reasons. I know how it all came out and I have one less book to carry as I will give it away or leave it.
Outside Starbuck's, a farmers' market has been set up. I am immediately turned on by the smell of sizzling bangers. I can't resist so I have a sausage sandwich. Sausage in hand and mouth, I wander, tasting different samples as I go. I am particularly fascinated by Damson Gin, which as you can guess, is flavored with plums. The purveyor alleges that the gin is made from the plums but I argue that if he distilled plum juice, he'd end up with brandy. Perhaps the samples are making me argumentative so I move on but not before swallowing another sample.
I return to the hotel and check out. While at the desk, I ask the clerk if she has heard of "The DaVinci Code" and would she like to read it. She says, "No thanks" but the bellman comes running over to say that he has heard it is an incredible story. I give him the book and walk away in the glow of not only having made someone happy but also reducing by one, the number of books I'm carrying.
We walk to the station through the debris, human and otherwise, of the previous Saturday night. At the station, we become confused as to which train to board and where the first class car is. In typical male fashion we discuss the issue at great length before someone finally says maybe we could ask one of the railroad people. This solves the problem.
We run into a similar problem when we get to Newcastle. We are confused as to where to go for our connection to Wylam. We finally figure it out only to miss our train by about 30 seconds. It pulls out as we pull up. Now we must wait for an hour.
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