And finally to York

The journey to York was very straightforward, straight down the A1(M). We arrived at York International Youth Hostel at 5 p.m., after a slight deviation.  I imagined that Debbie would be too tired after the long drive to go anywhere so I settled on having a meal at the hostel. However, Debbie was keen to see as much as possible so we did a 20 minute walk into the city via the banks of the River Ouse and finally came to the city walls. I have been to York many times before but never via the river so it was a very pleasant change.

First stop was to find somewhere to eat so we looked for a good pub menu and found one at the Three Legged Mare (cant remember if that was the name but it sounds good) offering two courses with a glass of wine thrown in for 10 GBPs. The pub was rich in atmosphere with beer barrels everywhere and brass things hanging off the walls. We ordered king prawn cocktail as a starter being a reminder of home but we both looked at each other and laughed at the size of the 'king prawns' which were not much bigger than my thumb nail. Debbie gave a very gentle complaint to the waitress that we came from Australia, the prawn country of the world, and these where definitely not king prawns. The waitress was not impressed, sniffed and walked away. I had a curry something with spinach which I had to send back as the frozen spinach was still chilled. Not to worry, the wine was great and after two glasses we didn't care.

By the time we left the pub in was black dark so we worked out the route home via another direction. The river route did not appeal so late at night. We encountered York Minster in floodlight on the way which was very stunning and looked forward to seeing it again in daylight. It took us half an hour to walk back to the hostel.

After our final continental plus cooked breakfast, we walked back into the city and were immediately recruited for the red tour bus which we ended up doing twice. York is not that big.

We hopped off to amble down The Shambles which must be one of Britain's must see little streets. According to the tour bus operator it was originally built to accommodate the butchers of the city so the street was built close together so that the sun would not be able to penetrate and spoil the meat in the shop windows. Amazing what you find out on these tour buses!

 The lure of a quaint little tea shop in The Shambles caught our attention with a special on toasted-tea-cake and a pot of tea. We were hooked, and pleasantly surprised by a lovely courtyard garden at the back of the shop.

We discovered York Minster again and had a brief look inside. We decided not to pay an admission fee this time as time was running out and we still wanted to walk round the city walls. But once again we were awestruck at the magnificence and splendour of the building which is still very much a place of worship.

Our final venture was to walk along the last quarter of the city walls. The city walls of York are the most complete example of medieval city walls still standing in England today.  Beneath the medieval stonework lie the remains of earlier walls dating as far back as the Roman period.

The Roman walls survived into the 9th century when, in AD 866, York was by the Danish Vikings.  The Vikings buried the existing Roman wall under an earth bank and topped with a palisade – a tall fence of pointed wooden stakes. The wooden palisade was replaced in the 13th and 14th centuries with the stone wall we see today.

York's turbulent history can be traced back nearly 2,000 years. It begins in earnest in AD71 when the Romans, at the height of their powers, conquered the Celtic tribes known as the Brigantes and founded Eboracum which, by the fourth century, was the capital of lower Britain.

In the seventh century, known as Eoferwic, it was the chief city of the Anglo-Saxon King Edwin of Northumbria and, two centuries later as Jorvik, it became an important trading centre for the Vikings.

The city was ravaged by William the Conqueror, but by the Middle Ages it had again become an important commercial centre.

In the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries Tudor and Stuart kings were among its visitors, in Georgian times it was the social capital of the north, and in the 19th century, with the coming of the railway, its industrial future was assured.

Today, while trade and industry are still important, it is the preservation of its long and varied history which has brought it world fame. For here, visitors can not only hear about England's history, they can actually see it and walk in it.  York is truly ageless - a city for all time and all people and as the last destination of our tour before returning to Cambridge and work it was a wonderful finale to a truly wonderful trip.

Before I emigrated to Australia I lived in England, a country rich in history, humour and hospitality. Why would I leave such richness behind and live in a country on the other side of world? All I can say is that I am glad I did as it is my observation that generally speaking the British people are quite blind and indifferent to the wealth of their heritage. Viewed through the eyes of foreign tourists it is a different world altogether. And isn't that the dilemma of us all. We don't value something till we lose it or are at risk of losing it and only then do we 'see' things as they really are.

Last year the Bishop of York called Christian England to 'wake up'. I agree, because the freedoms, so fiercely fought for over the past two thousand years, are at serious risk of being lost forever. What will it take I wonder, yet another war, or.... perhaps another John Wesley.

Holy Island, a tour of Bamburgh Castle and off to York

We opted to have an early breakfast for an early start and managed to pick the prime table in the restaurant with an incredible panoramic view of the castle from the window table.  An ideal occasion also to sample the locally smoked kippers which were on the menu.  Very tasty too.

We had a jammed packed morning ahead and had Holy Island and the castle to view before we hit the road for York.

I had some vague idea that you could walk over the causeway to Holy Island but was so glad we didn't 'cause it was quite a drive out to the island.  As Debbie said it would have taken us all morning to get there.

Holy Island is the 'Cradle of British Christianity'.  It was from the monastery on this island that the early missionaries, led by St Aiden and St Cuthbert, spread the Christian faith throughout all of Northern Britain. Virtually all we know of Cuthbert's life comes from Bede's  Ecclesiastical History of the English Nation and from three 'Lives of Cuthbert' two of them written by Bede.  St Bede lived his whole life in the monastery at Jarrow, on the south bank of the River Tyne and as far as is known only left the monastery three times.  Once to go to York and twice to go up tp Lindisfarne to deliver his accounts of the life of Cuthbert.

 Miracles and gifts of healing have been attributed to St Cuthbert and eleven years after his death the monks opened up his coffin and found to their surprise that his body was still whole, with no signs of decay.

At school I attended a secular high school but all the school houses were named after the great saints: Bede, Aiden, Dunstan and Cuthbert.  I was proud to be in Bede....always the best house and top in the sports events, though no-one could thank me for any contribution to that.


Time was running out and not wanting to get caught in the incoming tide we made a hasty departure from the island and made our way south again to Bamburgh castle which by now was becoming familiar territory. We managed to get one of the last remaining park spots at the top of the castle drive and meadered through the huge castle grounds and fortress.
We had a good tour of the castle and its very impressive, massive halls and living areas...how did they keep warm?  The place was full of old antiques and memorablia, knights in armour and tapestries.

While the size and grandeur of the place was hugely impressive and the incredible vision and capacity of the human mind to create and construct such edifices, my overall feeling and sense about the place was that it was very oppressive and dark in a spiritual sense.  I thought about Durham Cathedral and St Cuthbert's shrine and wondered how different the light and loving atmosphere was there compared to the heaviness of the castle.  The Bronte's home at the Parsonage had that same light, welcoming feel to it too. 

We finished the morning off with lunch at the castle with a pot of tea and finally hit the road for our last stop.....York.

Further north to Holy Island via Hadrian's Wall

After a relaxed morning at Susan and Michael's beautiful home and gardens we set off with explicit instructions about how to get onto the Military Road to Hadrian's Wall.   It is hard to accept that I have never visited Hadrian's Wall before, not even once in all the years I lived in England and only living less than 30 miles away.


We didn't have time for a major visit but managed to visit Chester's Fort, one of the fort's established after the wall was built stretching from the east coast to the west coast.  It is hard to get the mind around the fact that the Roman's occupied England for 1000 years, 500 BC and 500 AD.

It is a popular walk for hikers and there were quite a number along the road.  It reminded me of the Camino in Spain.  There was a small section of the wall at the fort so at least I can say I have now stood on theWall. Hopefully there will another opportunity to walk along a greater stretch of the wall in the future.

After meandering through a few country lanes we ended up in Rothberry, now infamous for its recent police seige and murders.  We stopped for lunch and observed that all looked quite normal again.

Debbie was keen to see a 'real' castle and not just a ruin so after leaving Rothberry we headed for Alnwick which is near the coast and on the way to Holy Island. More imprtantly it is the home to Alnwick Castle which apparently is the second largest inhabited castle in England after Windsor Castle and also film location for Harry Potter and the Philosopher's stone.  A helpful car park attenendant gave us directions for a better road view of the castle and it is very impressive.  This is one place I have visited before but unfortunately time would not allow us to go into the castle on this occasion.

Next stop Holy Island only accessible via a causeway when the tide is out.  We had planned to get there when the tide was out but seems we were given the wrong tide times 'cause the tide was still well in so we back tracked to Bamburgh which has a castle to drool over and is one of the most impressive looking castle's in England.

Towering above the tiny village of Bamburgh on the bare, sandy coastline of Northumberland, the massive walls of this medieval fortress are one of two such places believed to be the original site of Lancelot's castle of Joyous Garde. Interestingly, there was a Dark-Age stronghold on the same site, which may account for this tradition.

In 547 it became the capital of the Northumbrian 'Kingdom' of the Angles who had settled there in the early part of the sixth century; as such, it would have been a stronghold of the Saxon alliance, who were Arthur's prime enemies in his fight to maintain British rule. At the time, the site was not called Bamburgh, but seems to have been named 'Din Guayrdi', which may have suggested Joyous Garde to Sir Thomas Malory, who first described it as Lancelot's holding in his fifteenth-century Arthurian 'novel', Le Morte d'Arthur. 

As luck would have it when we arrived at the castle gates it was to find once again a notice with 'Castle closed'.  Undettered we decided to use the time to walk around the outside of the castle and go down to the beach via the sand dunes.  Oh! what childhood memories were triggered as I skidded down the grassy dunes bum-wise reminding myself once again that I am 62 but oh! it was such fun.

We had not booked anywhere to stay for that night and after our walk along the beach I suggested to Debbie that since it was now 5 p.m. maybe we should think about finding a place to stay.  Debbie still carries the missionery spirit of years ago trusting that God would always provide her needs when the time came.  So casually she said Oh! there will be a pub at the end of the lane here and we will get a room there.  Me, of little faith, is thinking......she must have marbles in her head if she's thinking we'll get a room in the centre of Bamburgh in peak holiday season..... but I didnt say anything not even expecting there would be a pub at the end of the lane.  Sure enough there was a pub/hotel at the end of the lane, The Lord Crew, same as at Blanchland.  With no confidence at all there would be any vacancies I ventured in to ask about a room and would you believe it....one twin and one double left....we'll have the twin, thanks.  Ninetyeight pounds was a bit steep but who cares.  We gave each other a high five.  I am learning to be more flexible....it is so much more fun.



 One cannot go to the north-east coast and not have fish and chips so we drove to Seahouses a couple of miles down the coast and sat on a bench overlooking the quaint little fishing harbour and afterwards enjoyed a glass of red wine in The Olde Ship Inn. English pubs are often the hub of the local community and this one was certainly packed with atmosphere and fishing memorablia but the people I suspect were mostly visitors and holiday makers and we enjoyed a good chat with visitors from Newcastle and Scotland sitting at the table next to us.


After an exhausting day it was a good feeling to know we had a comfortable beds to rest in for the night as we made our way back to The Lord Crew at Bamburgh.

Over the North Pennines to the Land of the Prince Bishops

On a very damp amd misty late morning we left Lake Windermere behind and wound our way along the foreshores of Ullswater.  Just had to stop for a cup of tea by the lake courtesy of Debbie's well travelled thermos flask and then began the climb over the Pennines.  I had been looking forward to this part of the journey as I knew the views from the Kirkston Pass would be splendid but as bad timing would have it the cloud level was too low and there was little to see.  However, Debbie was undeterred, everything was wonderful, I think she wouldn't have cared if it had snowed.

Co Durham

We eventually began to drive through familiar territory, across the moors of Northumberland and eventually into Count Durham, where I was born.  I became quite excited when I saw the sign post to Blanchland and made a quick decision to go there even though time was getting short to arrive at my sister Carol's.

Lord Crew Arms, Blancland

Fire place in Lord Crew Arms

 Blanchland is a little village which goes back to pre King Henry VIII days and was established by an order of monks that wore white habits.  It has an ancient priory which is very well preserved and loved still.

The Lord Crew Arms, now a popular pub, has an amazing fireplace where legend has it that the monks hid up the chimney to escape from king Henry's men during the reformation of the church and you can in fact see a ledge when you look up the chimney. 

In no time at all we arrived at Hamsterly and very excited to see my little ster again.  

Carol and Alan's cottage

 We enjoyed a great pub meal at The Cross Keys that night and I sampled the northern dish of black pudding which I haven't eaten for years.  I think it is made with pigs' blood. Debbie was not impressed.

After sad farewells we hit the road again, this time for Durham city, famous for its Castle and Cathedral. It must be something to do with age as I am curiously much more interested in the local history than ever before.

Durham Castle & Cathedral

I grew up in a part of the British Isles that is absolutely drenched in history. We were taught it at school and lived with it on a daily basis but like everything that becomes too familiar you no longer see it and somehow a part of your identity gets lost too.

Durham Cathedral from banks of the Wier

In Durham Cathedral I found myself once again overwhelmed by the design, architecture and engineering of a building that is 1000 years old dating back to William the Conquerer.  I found myself at the shrine of St Cuthbert which I had no idea was there.  There was opportunity for silent prayer and meditation which Debbie and I both took advantage of.  I became very aware of the Divine Presence and sense of peace that was there.  St Cuthbert's ministry was based at Holy Island, part of the Lindisfarne group of islands which we were later able to visit.

A glimpse inside Castle

I was excited at the prospect of visitng Durham castle (now part of the university complex) which in all the years I have lived near Durham and revisited over the years I had never been inside, so you can imagine my disappointment when we got there to see the 'Castle closed' sign, apparently for a wedding party.  Didn't they know I was coming that day!?

A quick visit to see my dear old Auntie Gwen, now 92, at The Convent nursing home at Ebchester,  and still bright as a button, and then to my special neighbours, Ray and Mo, where I grew up at East Law.  My mother and Mo were great friends.  Was great to be greeted by Ray with a Eeeh! ya bugger, one of my Dad's favourite expressions.

Friends, Michael and Susan and family

Goats on the Roof

This turned out to be a very busy day and finally we ended up at mylong time friends' home near Newcastle upon Tyne and finished the day at a rare species, goat breeding farm called Goats on the Roof for dinner out in whoop whoop somewhere, where the goats hop around on the roof.

Lake District (Thursday)

View from country lane near YHA

It was an easy drive to the Lake District and we arrived at Lake Windermere around 3 p.m. I cannot remember the last time I was at the Lakes but I do recall many happy memories with my family there when a young girl....camping under a make shift tent my Dad constructed with a rescued parachute from the battlefields of Arnhem in Holland during WW 11 thrown over an old wooden clothes horse.  I remember my mother cooking Cumberland sausages over a primus stove with a summer dress on and paddling in Lake Windermere with my sister, Thelma. That was over 50 years ago and as I looked at the landscape again none of it looked familiar except for the eternal beauty of the lake and mountainous back drop.

Lake Windermere

Amazingly the clouds parted as we arrived at the lake and the sun shone through.  The foreshores of the lake were crowded with families having picnics and little kids were having a ball splashing around in the water.  We didn't hang around too long as we had to find the YHA and had planned to go to Keswick that night to the annual convention that has been held there every year since John Wesley days.

Lake Windermere YHA

However, we were not prepared for how difficult it was going to be to find the place. Two hours later after asking four different people we finally wound our way up the drive to the very stately large building of the YHA.  I have to say some of these hostels are very grand and great value for money even if you have to share a dormitory which we did on this occasion. 

Debbie on foot bridge over river

We went for a short walk along the country lane and found ourselves down by a river and finally rested up on the other side of the valley and enjoyed the view from the other side.  The sheep viewed us with great disdain.

View from terrace at hostel

We decided to give Keswick a miss as we were too tired by now and instead enjoyed a lovely meal from the restaurant terrace (yes a restaurant at the hostel served with wine too) looking across the valley with Lake Windermere in the background. It was a satisfying way to end the day.

Garden view at rear of Dove Cottage

Next morning we did a tour of Dove Cottage, William Wordsworth's home at Grassmere.  A lady took us through all the rooms of the cottage which was jammed packed with us tourists.  Being a local lady she spoke very fast and even I could barely understand her and Debbie even more so.

"Gardening's purpose is to assist Nature in moving the affections."  William Wordsworth - Ode:Intimations of Immortality

"To me the meanest flower that blows can give
Thoughts that so often lie too deep for tears."  William Wordsworth

Bronte Country, West Yorkshire Pennines (Wednesday)

Haworth YHA

Main Street up to Parsonage

After a rainy morning in Stratford we set off north across some lovely countryside and headed up the A1(M) to West Yorkshire.  We had not made any advanced bookings for accomodation as we wanted to remain flexible so when we were confronted with the huge selection of YHA's we took pot luck and picked a place called Haworth which I hadn't heard of.  It's main attraction was it was fairly close to the Lake District where we were headed the next day. The next surprise was to discover that Haworth was at the heart of Bronte country and the town where the Bronte sisters grew up and lived with their father at the Parsonage.  A family that grew up with sorrow and loss.  Their mother and three of the six sisters all had premature deaths. Charlotte Bronte the last of the sisters married at 38 and died at 39 due to a toxic pregnancy.  She was a tiny lady only 4'10" tall.

Bronte country

We enjoyed an early evening walk which was the only flat walk available as it  turned out.  Haworth is in very hilly country and lends itself to some beautiful rugged countryside. Bronte Country is predominantly of Millstone Grit, a dark sandstone which lends the crags and scenery here an air of bleakness and desolation. Small wonder then, that this landscape fuelled the imagination of the Bronte sisters in writing their classic novels - including "Wuthering Heights" (which was reputedly inspired by the isolated moorland farmstead of Top Withens) and "Jane Eyre".


Next morning we made our way by car to the Bronte Parsonage Museum and is very well preserved. It still retains the atmosphere of what would have been a very loving home.  I loved this quote from the museum:

I have dreamed in my life, dreams that have stayed with me ever after,

and changed my ideas; they have gone through and through me, 

like wine through water, and altered the color of my mind.

Emily Bronte

Debbie had gleaned some local information and discovered there was an original steam train that had a regular run to Keighly and was a popular tourist attraction so naturally we had to do that too which was great fun. We caught a veteran bus back for the last part of the journey and saw in the distance Haworth was also the town where the Railway Children was filmed years ago and there is a small museum which records the making of the TV series in the Railway Museum.

All in all Haworth proved to be a great place to visit and stay.....highly recommended!

Off to Stratford on Avon

Street scene in Stratford

After a very mediocre lunch at The Smallest Pub in Bath we headed off for Shakespeare country a couple of hours drive through some lovely countryside.

Walk along R iver Avon

We found our B&B without too much trouble, which we had booked the night before, and had enough time left to meander round the town and along the river.  The weather was starting to get a bit grim and we experienced our first shower of rain.  Was a shame we didn't have time to go to the theatre where As You Like It was being performed.  Last time I was in Stratford was in 1998 and there have been many changes and improvements to the Shakespeare theatre since that time.  Even now it is under some more re-development.

Shakespeare's home

It is amazing how the house has been so well preserved in its almost original state all these years.

The works of Shakespeare of course are nothing less than incredible. His writings to me are like oil paintings, so rich in colour and description and full of passion. It is beyond belief that one person could write so much and so well.  Where did the inspiration come from?  Maybe we all have an untapped source of inspiration that Shakespeare somehow naturally drew on.