York - A City in Peril

The wall that once surrounded York still surrounds part of York, in a kind of I'm-not-entirely-whole way. Based on its age, and setting aside the fact that York is a lot bigger than it used to be, you can excuse it, the poor old thing. They say it's one of the most substantially existing ancient wall in England.

A map of the wall walk

 Because the walls no longer join entirely, it's possible to get lost trying to follow the old path it took, but the pavement is marked with little copper castles to guide you. There are only about 2.5 miles of remaining wall, and its an enjoyable walk that gives you a wonderful sense of the city. At this time, there are also often daffodils sprouting on the slope below the wall - but at other points, it edges houses and some very fancy looking gardens.

Roman remains

The wall was built by the Romans, destroyed by the Vikings and replaced with a palisade, then replaced again in the 13th and 14th centuries with the stone wall seen today. Parts of it have dropped away for houses and streets and to let more horse-drawn carriages through, but this latter seems to have sparred the call to preserve the walls in the early 1800s - and so they remain, not entirely whole or in the best of nick, but certainly now letting traffic through and indeed, one could suggest, encouraging more as a tourist attraction. There are four major bars (gatehouses) which now contain museums and, it seems, a cafe, and also two smaller bars. The Monk Bar section of wall shows some particularly great signs of the old Roman construction, with fragments of old wall spiraling down into the ground, and the square foundation of a tower.

A further sample of the wall.

Monk Bar is now a point of reference to me - it is near a Sainsburys supermarket, second hand stores, the next section of wall that can lead me quite near the Minster, and right beside it is the marvelous Monk Bar Chocolatiers. Many of the streets in the center of York are pedestrian priority, or access only for vehicles, and some of these are cobbled and rather narrow. The pedestrians themselves move in an odd kind of way. I can't judge which direction they're going to walk in, or which side of the pavement I ought to be walking on. And there is a market, a constant market, somewhere within the maze of the streets.

The Minster, too, is a good point of reference (I suppose quite literally, for it is a somewhat pointy building). On Easter Sunday I was drawn outside by the sound of its bells and, walking early down the streets toward it on a chill sunny morning, I found why people extol the ring of church bells. The sound filled the streets, music but a different sort. It saturated the air in the thin streets, mingled with the warm morning sun and shone on my face. I walked through it. It was layered, undertones and echoes, tangible. Now bells are just a little bit distracting and mildly irritated (for I am clearly grown wizened in the many days I've been here). Church bells go off all the bloody time. But then, at that time, then it was incredible, and then it seemed that I might burst with it.

Museum display bird: I'll have what he's smoking

Finally, I should like to mention the Castle Museum, guarded by geese and full of trinkets and odds and ends such as period room displays, battle and war exhibits, a street scene that would have well served the set of a Dickens film should you clear out all the modern riff raff, and a Highlander crouching menacingly above the doorway. Not everyone saw the Highlander. I did, because I have madskills at noticing Highlanders.

I also discovered there was a Mackenzie imprisoned in the castle prison - a Simon Mackenzie who committed high treason in the Jacobite uprising and was hung, had his heart ripped out, his limbs scores, and was at last beheaded.

I do like York, and look forward to eating more of its chocolates, but I am anticipating also getting closer to a real life Scotsman in its natural setting. This weekend, we're going to Edinburgh.

Imma pop a cap in yo ass