Yorkshire

Our first full week back from our holiday. Sunday saw us supermarket shopping and me attempting to buy my usual face cream only to be told by the shop assistant 'to come back tomorrow because it shouldn't have been on the shelf today' (I felt a bit peeved at the time, but when I went back later in the week and found it was £3 cheaper thought I shouldn't complain too much). Monday morning saw all our clothes lying wet and dirty on the grass rather than on the clothes line - lesson learnt - don't rewash wet woollen jerseys cos they shrink. Anyway, the rest of the week passed uneventfully as we got our biking fitness back, caught up on sleep and settled back into work (our workmates liked the Chit Chats and Toffee Pops) with a new boss. Already we were looking forward to our long weekend just around the corner.
Saturday morning up with the birds as we headed to Hull (well almost - birds begin to rise about 4.00 am now). A number of people asked us quizzically 'Why Hull?' so we replied 'that's where the hotel is and it was close to York' no other reason really. But their comments got us curious and I found that much to the chagrin of the residents in 2005 a Channel 4 survey declared that Hull was the 'worst place to live in the UK' based on statistics for crime, education, employment, environment and lifestyle. Needless to say our expectations were not high!! Our hotel looked over the Humber Bridge which was quite an impressive sight. One evening we drove through the town looking for a place to eat (settled on the only one that wasn't a pub - a chinese smorgasbord that specialised in 'something for everyone' ie besides chinese food we could have chocolate dessert fountains, salads, fruit, chips). Our immediate thoughts of Hull were it is a place 'devoid of personality'. It is hard to know if we would have thought that had we not read the results of the Channel 4 survey - but I think so - because unintentionally and not realising it until I started to download the photos for this blog we hadn't taken one photo of Hull - and our cameras our now an extension of our arms. But to be fair, Hull is rich maritime history as after the discovery of Greenland in the 1600's it homed the largest fleet of whalers. It is also the birth place of William Wilberforce, who became MP for Hull and was one of the major lobbyists against slavery working with William Pitt to finally ban it in 1825 (we saw a dvd on him).
In contrast, everyone I spoke to said York was a 'great' place. So, 3.5 hours later we arrived in one of those 'old world' cities complete with:

• cobbled stoned roads and little boutique shops - its called the Shambles - where fifteenth century buildings lean into the middle of the cobbled street. It dates back 900 years to the Domesday book and the name comes from the Medieval word Shamel (bench). It was once also referred to as Flesshammel (flesh)because historically it used to have lots of butcher shops (at one time 26).
• and narrow walk ways called Snickelways -small paths that run between buildings, narrow enough for pedestrians and small carts I think. A definition I saw was 'a narrow place to walk along, leading from somewhere to somewhere else...' and they have cute little names like Mad Alice Lane, Hornpot Lane Nether and Finkle Street. Snickelways aren't an old name but thought of in 1983 by a local author.
• a city wall you can walk around (except for the few bits that have been demolished). We peered into people's back yards (like a large number of locals do each week), enjoying the flowers, admiring the little well cared for terraced houses and the banks of cow parsley and blue bells. It took a while to circle the whole town (the stop for the icecream in the gardens and roman ruins could account for some of that time) but we didn't care as we wandered the reasonable well maintained 14th century wall.
  
• a castle (Clifford Tower is all that is left) perched on a hillside covered with blue bells and overlooking the city. It was built by William the Conqueror. In 1190 the wooden keep was burned down, during a siege of Jews who had taken refuge there. Apparently Richard (successor to Henry II who had been careful to protect England's Jews), there were a number of incidents involving the local Jews. The castle was their refuge but rather than fall into enemies hands most of the Jews committed suicide by setting fire to the wooden castle. There is a lot of sadness in history.
  
• a large church called York Minsters which we peeped inside but 'walk the wall' beckoned so we didn't join the queue to climb the 275 steps to the top.
  
• a number of museums (dungeons, railway, aircraft) and national trust homes like the Treasurers House named after the Treasurer of York Minster. In the 1930's it and three adjoining derelict buildings were bought by the 'visionary and eccentric' Frank Green who renovated the houses and 'threatened to haunt the House if any of the furniture was ever moved'. We weren't followed around by any ghosts so I guess the National Trust is a bit scared of Frank Green. To be honest there wasn't much memorable about the place except perhaps the vivid green walls in some of the rooms and Frank's eccentricity about furniture (he fixed metal studs in the floor to ensure staff returned furniture to the correct position) and insisted that all workmen wore slippers in the house. His family made a fortune from developing engineering equipment called the 'Economiser' - the first equipment to recycle waste heat, cutting running costs in factories.

On that day in York we also caught a boat trip along the river. There was a regatta on so we couldn't go through the town but instead our trip took us through the local countryside, passed a number of large houses and expensive moored boats (where the owners were sitting in the sun supping wine in the cabins). We learnt how fast the boat was going (can't remember) and that knots came from a long time ago when ropes were knotted and floated down river to see how fast the boat was going (not sure of the spacing between the knots). Boy, were we tired after all that walking on cobbled streets.














One day in the crowds was enough for this country girl and so we took off to the seaside for the day. But first we went to Brough, a little village not far from our hotel, with the same name as some good kiwi friends. The name comes from "burh" which means "fortified place" in Gaelic. There wasn't much offering here in this once Bronze Age settlement (except lots of 1960 houses and I forgot an old aircraft company opened in 1916. And then onto my treat - a day walking the hills of Flamborough Head. It's often that we decide after a day visiting a city that a trip to take us back to nature is the thing to do and it is often that a trip watching birds fly, feed and nest is also complemented by seeing man made flying machines. Flamborough Head is a bit like the Cliffs of Dover, white chalk cliffs the home to many birds. There isn't really a lot to say except we had a great time looking at birds, the caves and stacks caused by erosion, the two light houses (old and new) and breathing in the salt air. We finished the day at Spurn - down the coast - a spit which we didn't have time to walk along before dark but enjoyed the setting sun while eating fish and chips - a 'must go back one day and explore more' place.



The next day we took a drive over the Humber Bridge and visited the industrial part of Hull - gas, oil, dangerous goods, derelict wharves, fishing industry etc. It wasn't a particularly pleasant sight but was separate from the more picturesque areas which I guess is one good thing. The mix of industry and horticulture together made for some interesting scenery. We enjoyed Cleesthorpe, which had a pier, castle and gardens (all built around the late 1880's to make the town an ideal holiday destination) beside a lovely beach where children were enjoying playing and donkeys ambled along with young riders (in summer I get the impression it was like Blackpool - so a place to avoid). I also wandered around the lake at Doncaster where new housing developments were integrated well with office buildings and the environment while Harry wandered around another aircraft museum (more about that later).




Sherwood Forest - on the way back to Bristol. Sorry to say we did sing Robin Hood, Robin Hood, Riding through the glen, Robin Hood, Robin Hood, With his band of men, Feared by the bad, loved by the good, Robin Hood! Robin Hood! Robin Hood
and also sorry to say we could only remember the first four lines as per usual. While driving there Harry tried to tell me Robin Hood wasn't real - well - of course he was and the forest proved it. I could just picture Robin and his merry men meeting to discuss their next mission under an old oak tree (the oldest now is about 1000 years old and affectionately called 'The Major Oak' - quite unbelievable) away from the prying eyes of the Sherrif of Notthingham, or kissing Maid Marion in the forest. Not real I ask you!! Apparently 'forest' is a legal term, with special royal laws designed to protect timber and game in the area. Wardens strictly enforced these laws - Robin must have had a hard time!! So just to prove a point - more about Robin. He was so famous they don't really know when he lived - his feats were passed by word of mouth. An early reference was made by a poet as early as 1377, but some say he could have lived around 200 years earlier - but just to make it clear he did live in Sherwood Forest.

"Robyn hod in scherewod stod hodud and hathud and hosut and schod four and thuynti arows he bar in hits hondus"

Robin is buried at Kirklees Priory - we didn't get there - maybe another day (just to rub it in). Although the Priory is ruined some distance from the gatehouse is a gravestone bearing an inscription "here lies Robard Hude..."
"Syr Roger of Donkestere by the pryoresse he lay and there they betrayed good Robyn Hode through theyr false playe Cryst have mercy on his soule That dyed on the rode! For he was a good outlawe And did poor men much good"
Poetry courtest of a 'Gest of Robyn Hode' by no idea.

A weekend is never complete without visiting some flying machines and this weekend was no exception. Yorkshire is a place full of aircraft museums I discovered when searching on the web for things to do. Harry visited two - the Yorkshire Air Museum and a smaller one in Doncaster. It always surprises me when we visit these places together because the photos and things we remember indicate we look at the same things but see different things.
'I look and look.
ooking's a way of being:
one becomes, sometimes, a pair of eyes walking.
Walking wherever looking takes one'.
By Denise Leverton
I went to the Yorkshire Air Museum because it was described as '20 acres of parks, woodland and gardens in a unique historic setting makes this "more than just an air museum", with its famous 300 seat, "NAAFI" restaurant and stunning exhibitions, the Museum has something for everyone'. It was quite interesting, for both of us, but somehow we missed the acres of parks and gardens. Harry enjoyed wandering around the aircraft from the RAF from WW1 to the current and saw for the first time a Handley Page Halifax and Handley Page Victor. The museum was based in a WWII Bomber Command Station and it was quite interesting going into old hangers and buildings once lived and worked in by staff. The memorial garden flying the flags of NZ, Australia, England, France and Canada - it was good to see the ANZAC contribution remembered. The restaurant was decked out like a mess hall and poems hung through out and it had an interesting section on Neville Shute - an author I have always enjoyed but his books are no longer published. Below is a photo of the signal square used in wartime airfields for pilots attempting to land damaged aircraft without radio in difficult conditions. The white dumb bell told the pilot that he should land and taxi on the hard runways and not on the grass which was unservicable. The white T on a pivot was changed to signal the wind direction and the pilot landed in the way of the long stem of the T. The white disc indicated that planes were taking off and landing in different directions while the red square and yellow diagonal meant caution and red arrows showed direction of planes circling waiting to land.






And to finish the week off -

MELANIE (age 5) asked her Granny how old she was. Granny replied she was so old she didn't remember any more.Melanie said, 'If you don't remember you must look in the back of your
panties. Mine say five to six.'

CLINTON (age 5) was in his bedroom
looking worried. When his Mum asked what was troubling him, he replied,
'I don't know what'll happen with this bed when I get married. How will
my wife fit in?'

And what do you think of the person who bought a new iron a few weeks ago. She was a bit disappointed when it didn't seem to work all that well, it didn't get hot enough to remove the creases of her newly hemmed trousers, and it smelt a bit. The other day she realised that the element was still covered with the cardboard packaging and yes it had turned a bit brown!!