A Road Between Countries

We left York after a last breakfast at our hotel, and I couldn't help but wonder if any other point on our trip would charm me quite as much as the city had. To add a little touch to the bitterness, a ways out of York we dug in to the shortbread we were given with our room and discovered it was the best shortbread we had ever had. And it was far too late to turn around and find the bakery it had come from to get more, which trust me, we would have. 

This day was designated for travel between York and Edinburgh, with a few stops to see some sights - most notably the amazing Hadrian's Wall. But first - Corbridge!

As we headed north to the border between England and Scotland the scenery became more and more rural. Little villages with perfect town squares - one pub, one church, and a collection of cottages -popped up at intervals. In short: we drove through paradise. 

If you've ever wondered where all of your Canola oil comes from....

We clearly hadn't had enough of the ruins of ancient Roman settlements, because we headed first for the Corbridge Roman Settlement museum and site. If I recall correctly, we were drawn there mostly because we wanted some input on what would be the best route to take to see the wall, but we figured we'd check out the ruins as well.

The visitor's center was pretty quiet, so we spent some time chatting with the one woman working there. She was super fun to talk to, even if all the directions she gave us for the best places to see the wall were useless.  She also pointed out that they had some mead samples.  Never ones to pass up free booze we were happy to partake. One of the bottles out for sampling was a traditional mead and was one of the best I've ever had. It tasted exactly like you would expect Christmas to taste. In fact, it was so good, we bought a bottle and brought it home. I don't have a picture of  it, and as it's currently half empty on my bar I'll use this one from the English Heritage Shop website (www.english-heritageshop.org.uk).

The other one that was out was a ginger mead, which the woman working there described as "feeling like you've been kicked in the teeth by a donkey". I didn't partake of that one, but Adam did. After he regained his ability to speak we agreed to not purchase a bottle. 

With our mead and useless directions in hand, we thanked our hostess and took a little time to meander through the visitor's center's small display of exhibits. At the very end there was a map showing the ancient Roman/Scottish border and the current towns of the area. Here's one of the worst pictures of me ever, but I was all excited to see Loudoun on the map, as it is the place for which my home county in Virginia was named. 

I don't know why I'm making this stupid face.

The site outside the visitor's center consists of the remains of Coria, a Roman town that went through quite a few iterations before it's eventual abandonment - and even then there's lots of evidence of the people who lived in the area afterwards using the structures and building materials for other uses. The main structures seen now are consistent with Coria having been a garrison town - a place where soldiers at the wall and beyond could come to pick up supplies, their pay, take a rest, stop in a temple. The buildings are remarkably easy to imagine in their full glory, and there's some truly cool stuff like the ruins of an ancient fountain that would probably run just fine if you put some water through it. 

Picture time! Most of what you see in these pictures dates to about 163 AD. Which just blows my effing mind, I can't even tell you.

Standing on a two thousand year old Roman road, NBD.

Where does a mansplainer get his water? From a well, actually....

Experts aren't sure what this room was used for, but as it is sunk into the ground with very thick walls and only one entrance/exit, it's thought to be a storehouse for weapons or gold.

As the ground settled, many of the walls took on this undulating pattern, which I kind of love. 

Okay, maybe I got a little bored of the Roman ruins after a while. I started taking shots of other awesome sights in the surrounding hills. Like this. Which I don't know what it is or who it belongs to, but can I please be invited for dinner? 

We knew once we left Corbridge there wouldn't be a lot of other options for lunch, so we stopped in to the Golden Lion, seen on the left in the picture below.  Also seen in the picture below, irresistibly adorable Corbridge town center.

We ate a fairly typical pub lunch and were served by an absolutely adorable young woman with the richest Northumberland accent in the world. She asked me if I wanted chips or roast potatoes with my entree and I asked her what she would recommend. She screwed up her face in sincere deep thought and said "Proper chips, that way you can dip it in the gravy."  At that point I do believe I died of an adorable overdose.

Lunch over, we were off again. However, it wasn't too long before we were seeing signs for Aydon Castle and figured "why not?"  To access the site, you park a bit down the road, climb a stile, and take a little bit of a walk down a country lane. If it weren't for the sun and the bright blue sky, I'd say it was the Englishiest moment.

Aydon Castle stands on the site of an original timber building, of which nothing remains and nothing is known except it was there. The stone building was started in 1296 and variously updated, most notably in the 17th century, all the way through its last use as a lived-in space in 1966. The families which built it and subsequently lived in it were well-off farmers, merchants, and sheep, er, growers. Why would agricultural people need a fortress complete with curtain wall, you ask? Scots. Lots and lots of Scots. The Scots actually did manage to capture Aydon in both 1315 and 1346.

Picture time!

The outer wall as seen from the approach.

Never did find out 100% what this was, but our guess was cold storage or ammunition storage. Either way it was cold and really slimy inside. 

Family marker and date over one of the more substantial mantelpieces inside the home. 

Atmospheric kitchen shot.

Stupid confession time: I have absolutely no idea why it entertained me so much to find that the kitchen had built in cabinets with shelves. But it did. Medieval shelves!!

Up on the wall! It's a bird! It's a plane! It's your very own panda travel blogger!!

After Aydon, we continued up the road a bit, looking everywhere for a good place to stop to see Hadrian's Wall. Dating back to about 122 AD, the wall is considered the largest existing Roman Artifact and is a UNESCO World Heritage Site.  And if you want to know more about it, well Google is your friend. 

I had known about Hadrian's Wall for a long time, and I'm not entirely sure what I was expecting. Maybe some crumbling stones you can use your imagination on to remember it was once a wall. Certainly Adam and I both thought we'd find a designated spot to go see what there was to see. But after driving around for a bit, we decided "Hey, this wall is about 84 miles long. If we just stop the car and meander, surely we'll find it." And that is what we did. 

We saw a family walking through a field and decided they had the right idea. A bit down the road we saw what we assumed was their car and we parked behind it and got out. First things first, let me say it was windy. Like, finding it difficult to catch a breath windy. Like, your husband's favorite hat which was on your lap gets blown away when you open the car door and you don't even notice windy. (I'm so sorry honey.) But it wasn't cold, so it wasn't a horrible experience. Second thing, we climbed over the stile (lots of those in the UK) and realized why the Romans chose this place to build their wall. Contrary to popular belief, the wall does NOT divide England and Scotland. What it does (did) do, is protect the Roman settlements in the north of England from the wrath of the warrior Scots. When you look down and realize just how steeply the ground drops off just over the ridge, you realize that yep, this is great place for a defensive wall. It says something about the formidable nature of the ancient Scots that even though nature had provided an excellent vantage point, the Romans STILL felt it necessary to build a ditch in front of the wall. 

We encountered the family we had seen earlier as they were on their way back to their car. They confirmed that yes, if we kept walking this way we'd encounter the wall. We were advised by them that it was a bit of a walk onward, but well worth it. At least I think that's what they said - it was so windy I could hardly hear them.

Finally, there it was. The crumbling suggestion of a wall I had expected.

Wait no, that's not it. Here it is.

Not really crumbling much at all. And I didn't need my imagination to think of it as a wall, because, well, it's a wall! It's kind of unbelievable how much it's still standing.  

We marveled, we posed for pictures, we walked and we contemplated. After a bit, we found ourselves at the end of this section of wall, which was divided by a narrow lane and (another) stile and continued on the other side. Adam offered to go back and get the car and pick me up in the lane and I agreed.

I sat on the stile and just took in the moment. As I was down off the ridge the wind wasn't blowing so hard. It was very quiet. I listened to some birds, hoped in vain that in my stillness and calmness I would spot a hedgehog, and thought about the remarkable fact that I was sitting alongside a two thousand year old wall that had borne witness to so very much history. It's hard for me to imagine a moment in my life when I felt more at peace than that one.

Even though no other cars had come or gone down the lane while I waited, as soon as Adam turned down to where I was another car followed right after him. He pulled up beside me, but I told him since the other car couldn't go around to just go down the end of the lane and come back up. He did so, but to my surprise the car behind him also pulled up to where I was and rolled down the window. I was half expecting to get chastised for blocking the lane or for loitering on the stile, but instead I was greeted with a hearty "You look like you've found the best seat in the county!" I agreed that I had, and that I might just stay there a while longer. "Well, all you're missing is a drink, I'd say." I said that was a great idea, and that my husband would be right back with a bottle of mead. "Alright, well we live just down the end of the lane. We'll come back with some gin and tonics!" I laughed, they laughed and drove on. They made my awesome moment monumental. 

Adam told me that he had actually struggled to turn the car around because the lane seemed to go on and on without ever really widening. He pulled into a driveway to attempt a u-turn, but the same car I had just chatted with pulled up and told him if he continued on a hundred feet or so, he would find a wide spot to do a perfect turn around. He thanked them, and came to tell me of the awesome couple he'd just encountered and I told him of our lovely conversation as well. 

I had to stop writing for a second there. Can you get homesick for a place that's never been your home? Can I have this day back, please?

Having seen the wall, the next thing on our to-do list was get ourselves to Scotland. Adam thought it would be prudent to find a gas station as he was under the impression the border was fairly sparse and he didn't want to risk running out of fuel on the way.  The only problem was that the drive back into any kind of significant town took so long it actually ate up much of the fuel, and time, we had left. We finally found a station in Hexham, but it wasn't open on Sunday. A local shopkeeper directed us to a 24/7 station another 20 minutes away ("Oh yes, they've finally opened one just several months ago!") and we made it there just as the fuel light came on, and five minutes before the Starbucks across the street closed. (I am a Starbucks addict. Sue me.)

We were now fueled up, but worried about the time. The sun was going down and we were still in England.

Our B&B in Edinburgh had a strict 10pm deadline for checking in and we honestly didn't know if we'd make it.

We crossed into Scotland and came into Jedburgh. It was full of gas stations, I kid you not.

Jedburgh is also home to Ferniehirst Castle, the ancestral keep of the Kerr family.  Adam is related to the Kerrs through his mother's side, and he had really hoped to lay eyes on the home. No sooner had he decided that it was just too late to even try to see the house (which isn't open to the public most of the time anyway) than we saw a sign for Ferniehirst. We both craned to see through the trees to at least spot a turret when we came around a corner and there it was. We had about ten full seconds to see it, but see it we did. It was dusk, so no pictures, but here's one from the Googles if you're interested.

Nothing eventful happened on the rest of the drive (except for a bird that tried to race a truck and lost with a *POOF*) and we made it to Edinburgh at 9:45. We found our B&B and as we were pulling in to park a man who we discovered was one of our hosts ran towards us from a house across the street yelling "I didn't think you would make it!" He was warm and welcoming and showed us into the house, which was lovely. We told him we were terribly hungry as we hadn't eaten since the stop in Corbridge. He told us most things were closed but we could find a kebab shop about a quarter mile's walk down the street. Um, yes please.

We made the walk and acquired the legendary doner kebab. If we'd known they were the size of a baby we would have ordered one and split it. We hauled our treasure (which for Adam also included a legendary Irn-Bru) back to our room, ate as much as we could, and fell sound asleep in minutes.

I fall more in love with York than ever

When I left off, we had disembarked from our brief cruise on the Ouse (ha, say that out loud) and were about to enter the grounds of the York Museum Gardens. It was a truly beautiful day, and I couldn't have wished for better weather to explore this absolutely stunning park.  The grounds are a structured 19th century garden and encompass numerous historical ruins, including those of Saint Mary's Abbey, which at one time was the wealthiest and most powerful religious location in Britain. It was so wealthy, and so powerful, that it had it's own protective walls separate from the walls of York city. Then of course, Henry came along and, well, goodbye St. Mary's.

This is one of those times where words just won't do justice, so here are pictures!

I can't even imagine living in a house that overlooks this garden. Heaven!

I'm not sure many people - especially Americans - really understand the damage that Henry did to the historical record with his dissolution of the monasteries. Because of course he didn't just confiscate the money - he stole anything of value and burned the rest to the ground. It's an absolute crime when you stop to consider the architecture, literature, and art we lost because he threw a monster temper tantrum. I was particularly struck by this when wandering St. Mary's, which even as a ruin is spectacular.

More of the structured garden....

I was initially surprised I didn't have more pictures, but I think I was just really enjoying the scenery. In all, I think we spent a little over an hour here.

After our stroll through the ruins and gardens, we realized it was not quite dinner time.  What to do, what to do?  We knew of one more major attraction in York we hadn't seen yet, and that was Jorvik - the viking museum.  Having heard disparate accounts ranging from "it's worth it" to "it's  silly", we had sort of put it on the "maybe" list. We decided to walk over to it and see if we still had time to get in. If we did we'd go, if we didn't we wouldn't be that upset.

We found the museum in a rather business-y looking district that was already mostly shut down for the evening. I was surprised when the gigantic hairy guy dressed as a viking outside the door said we'd have plenty of time. Seriously, he could have been an extra in Vikings on TV - I wish I'd taken a pic! In we went, having very little idea of what to expect.

So is it silly? Or is it worth it? Yes. The experience is essentially a ride, taking you along a recreation of Jorvik's Coppergate street, with animatronics and replicas to give you an idea of what life would have been like when York was Jorvik.  Is it for kids? Probably. Did I think it was awesome? I did. I really did. And here's why - it's not just a replica of Coppergate; the exhibit is built on Coppergate itself. So when you're in your little buggy going around the replicas, you're seeing, hearing and smelling what you might have actually experienced in that very spot a thousand years ago. The same goes for the animatronics - they are based on human remains found on those grounds. At one point you see an older woman who has a leg ailment - and later in the museum part of the attraction you can see the remains that character was based on. As someone who is absolutely fascinated by the lives of historical people, I just thought it was the coolest. I also learned a fair bit, and I'm a geek and I do love learning.

You've probably guessed from the lack of photos that the ride is a "no photo" zone. The small museum at the end of the attraction, however, does allow pictures, and here is one of my favorites.

Looks like a replica, right? Well, it's not. It's a no-kidding Anglo-Saxon helmet known as the Coppergate Helmet. Its origin is in the 8th century, but it remained hidden on the site of the Jorvik museum until 1982, in a pit that might have once been a well. Its outstanding preservation is attributed to it having been hidden intentionally, either by its original owner or someone who hoped to come back for it later. I could have looked at just this one thing for an hour. I'm sorry, but I'M GEEKING OUT ALL OVER AGAIN just looking at the pictures! That is just the coolest thing! Here's another picture because I can't help it.

Ok, I'm back. To make up for my geek-splosion, here's a funny sign.

And if that doesn't do it for you, here's another.

Having geeked out supremely, it was time to find dinner. We wandered to an area where we hoped to find some options. The scenery along the way was enchanting in the dusk.

One of York's famous Snickleways

Silly hats because this is England

York's other river, the Foss

Oh those rumors about British dentition!

Finding dinner turned out to be a strangely difficult task. There were pubs aplenty to choose from, but I was already worried about getting tired of pub food, and was hoping for something else. Anything else. If I recall, I was actually a bit determined to find a salad. We wandered and wandered, actually stopping in to a few promising looking places only to be told they couldn't seat us for at least an hour. I was starting to get hangry, so we determined to just pick someplace already sheesh. In the end, we settled on a Everest Ghurka Nepalese. And you know what? It was delicious. No salads, but it was a far cry from Yorkshire pudding and chips, for which I was very grateful. 

After a leisurely dinner and hanger-abatement, we wandered back to our hotel, stopping for some Magnum bars and Ribena (oh, how I miss Ribena) to take back to the room. Sleep came quickly, and though I was ready for tomorrow's adventure I was also very sad. This was our last night in York, and I think I knew even then that this ancient place, full of the echoes of so many cultures and people, had settled firmly in my heart as one of my favorite places. Ever.

Shambling down the Shambles and lunch!

When I was a young history buff, I had a particular affinity for medieval history.  I mean, why wouldn't I? It's easy to get caught up in the romanticized vision of castles and nobles and all that guff. But I wanted to know what it was really like. I read books like Life In a Medieval Castle, which focused on the reality of the time, and came to realize that living in the 14th century certainly wasn't a fairy tale. Yet even knowing the grim truth of it all, I became even more interested. One of York's best selling points for someone trying to put their feet in the shoes of the past is that so very much of it remains intact from the 12th century on.  No major fires, no major destruction during the bombings of World War II - in short, none of the many things which disrupted the living-history of London and many other European cities. Stepping out of York Minster in many ways felt like stepping back in time.

Sprawling outside of and around York Minster is a neighborhood of narrow, crooked, medieval streets that still bear names going back to the Viking era. Those names are often indicative of which merchants used to sell their goods here: go to Spurriergate to buy spurs, Colliergate to buy or trade coal, and my personal favorite, Whip-Ma-Whop-Ma-Gate, which literally means "neither one thing or another". 

Looking back towards York Minster from Stonegate, I was shocked at how easy it was to imagine this narrow, crowded street of 21st century tourists filled instead with 15th century merchants and shoppers. It almost felt like a movie backdrop!

Although none of the shops remain as they once were, small details survive.  In a time when very few people were literate, the importance of the street names being reflective of the wares sold there is obvious. But then there's the Red Devil at number 33 Stonegate. This was neither a dark magic shop, nor a simply quirky decoration - it was a printer's shop! Anyone looking for the printer in the 16th century would have known from this on the facade that they had found their spot. Printers would often blame typos, spilled ink, etc. on a mischievous spirit - the printer's demon - and soon the red devil became associated with the printer's shop. And now you know! Very useful should you find yourself transported back in time and desperately need to find a printer.

Even though literacy rates by the 19th century were much higher, some merchants still used exterior decoration to indicate their wares. The statue of Minerva on the corner of High Petergate once adorned a bookshop.

Probably the most famous of York's winding medieval streets is the Shambles. Formerly the go-to place to find butchers in the city, the name derives from shelves, called shambles, that were used to display fresh meat. It is one of the best preserved medieval-era streets in the world. While it's unclear when it was first established, or when it first became a butcher's market, the Shambles can be found recorded in the Domesday Book of 1086.

The street seems almost impossibly narrow at some parts

Many of the shops along the Shambles still have butcher's hooks and rods outside their doors

Honestly, the whole street made me think so much of Diagon Alley, someone should really think of opening a Harry Potter themed shop along it!

Oh.

 Anyway, off to lunch! It had been recommended to me that we try to find the Golden Fleece and stop in for a nice lunch, so we did. It's one of York's oldest and (allegedly) most haunted pubs, so we pretty much had to give it a try.  It's easy to find - just look for the giant golden fleece...

... right next to the half-timbered building that looks like it's about to collapse on itself. 

Lunch (and a couple of ciders) was pretty good.  We may or may not have sat in the alcove which hosts the pub's "grumpy old man ghost". Rested and refueled, we wandered back out into the city. Adam and I are both big believers that if a boat tour is on hand, a boat tour should be taken, so we set off for the river. 

Along the way we found Clifford's Tower, the keep of York Castle. 

Let's take this opportunity to talk about a few things. First off, one of the reasons I wanted to travel to the UK was - and I'm not kidding here - I hate the sun. If the sun is in my eyes, I am almost instantly in a bad mood. Sun goes behind clouds - boom, my mood is much improved. I was promised overcast skies and clouds, and look at that sunshine and perfect periwinkle blue! UGH. Second, that tower appears to be up a rather steep hill, no? YES. And you have to climb a rather steep flight of steps to get to it. And they don't tell you it'll cost £5 to get inside until you get to the TOP.  Third, well isn't that just gorgeous?

Around the side of the tower, we came to this fascinating sign. It's a terrible and sobering reminder that humankind has long had the ability to be dreadful to each other - something I am sorry to say we have not outgrown.

With a more serious air we continued on towards the riverfront. We hadn't gone far when we encountered this spirit lifter. Not sure what's happening here, but ... yeah, ok!

We reached the boat dock on the Ouse and found a lovely pedestrian path along the bank. Many families were out for a walk in the sunshine, including this one.

The river itself was humming with activity. We saw a boat that had clearly been overtaken by pirates and Labradors.

Look at these people, clearly frozen in fear.

 Adam, who does NOT hate the sun, was enjoying the warm day.

Soon we were underway and enjoying the on-board narration of the sites and history along the Ouse. It wasn't the best boat tour we have ever done (Amsterdam I think still wins that one) but it was a relaxing way to spend an hour or so. And we did learn some things! Such as how to pronounce Ouse, which we were both shocked to learn is "Ooze". Because nothing says "delightful natural beauty" more than "the River Ooze". 

One of the tidbits I do remember from the tour, was that prior to there being bridges over the Ouse, there were ferries. Of course, those ferries were operated by people who collected coin for ferrying travelers. When bridges were built, those people found themselves out of business. However, in at least this one case, the city of York built a house for one of the former ferrymen, and allowed him to use his new residence as a tollbooth to charge people wanting to cross the bridge. The house is still there.

At one end of the river, the tour was impeded by a regatta, which meant the boat couldn't go down into the area of St. Mary's Abbey (more on that in the next post) and instead we got to see some of the quieter, more residential areas.

Sailing through an area of waterside pubs and restaurants, we had our first encounter with a Slug & Lettuce, which is, as it turns out, a fairly popular chain of pubs. But here's my question - who wants to eat or drink at a place named "Slug"?! 

I saw this one at at a distance and said "Chicken Dinner!" then laughed at my own cleverness, only to discover that yes, they do in fact serve chicken dinner.

We disembarked at the regatta's finish line and decided to explore the area on foot. 

This was also our first encounter with an ice cream house boat. Or would that make it an ice cream shop boat? We were so full from lunch we actually passed on sampling any. If you know anything about the Grimm obsession with ice cream, you know that means we were FULL!

If you look at the picture above, you'll see that behind the bank and the walking path there's a fence with a lot of greenery on the other side. That's where we headed next, but you'll have to wait I'm afraid. The next post will wrap up our time in York in spectacular fashion!