York City Walls, Model Railway Museum, and a Bit Of Detour

None of us slept too well in the old Bootham Guest House: perhaps it was just too hot. We were up early, and watched a bit of Wimbledon round up on the telly while waiting for breakfast to be served at 8:30. On cue we showed up in the little breakfast area,and sat down to a little table packed with plates and cups and silverware and butter, etc. The very friendly lady greeted us and asked if we would all be having the full English Breakfast, to which we experimentally said Yes. Soon large plates containing baked beans, fried egg, stewed tomato and mushroom, a sausage and a piece of fried bread arrived. Woof! We ate what we could, but on the whole it was too much, and surprisingly... unappetizing. We staggered away!

To walk it off, we decided to walk the walls of city. It's about two miles, and although the wall break down sometimes, for the most part they are a well-kept pathway atop them around York. At the city gates (called "Bars") there are sometimes little shops within the wall. The one at the north gate was actually one of the finest little gift shops we'd seen anywhere in England, and there, next to the little museum where they prove that Richard III did not kill the princes in the tower, but was in fact slandered by Henry the VII, Will finally found his ROMANS. That is to say, little Roman soldier figures.

Contrary to the impression you get when arriving in York by car, that the medieval city is small, walking its walls shows you how big it actually was. When we ended we were glad to be near the railway station, for we could take refuge in the small but mighty York Model Railway Museum. Kate and I mostly sat on chairs, but the boys eagerly investigated each and every one of the many little trains running around complex dioramas. You could start them with buttons.

As we left, one of the employees asked us if we were going to see Mallard pull out. What's this, we asked: Mallard is going somewhere? Oh, yes, he says: Mallard is being moved to Shilton, near Durham, and Tornado is going to pull her there. The departure time was ten to three, and the likes of it "will never be seen again!" Mallard, he said, will probably never return to York. We were astounded the good fortune of our having seen Mallard yesterday. "I can't believe they let it outside overnight," he said. Later, a video on the Yorkshire Evening Post's website revealed what a big deal it was to railfans that the Mallard was out of the building: no wonder there had been so many people there.

From the Model Railway Museum we walked into the old city and looked for lunch. It was one of our difficult eating days: a sandwich for starving Will from a sandwich shop; McDonalds for Galen from a crowded McDonalds; pasties for Morgan and Kate from a Cornish Pasty Shop. Then we had a few last errands: some special vinegars for Aprille from a lovely shop where they sell them in bulk from large from decanters; and a visit to the Green Apple Bookshop: one of those bookshops, the ones where I feel everything has been hand-picked for me.

We got in our car and left York at about 3:00, and the railway track overpass that we came to, north of the city, was crammed with pedestrians with cameras. They were waiting for Mallard and Tornado! We were sorry we couldn't stop too, but there was simply nowhere to park.

About a half an hour out of York we realized that the special vinegars were not in the car. After racking my brain for a while I remembered that we had definitely had them before the bookstore, but perhaps not after. I might have left them in a square by a fountain Will had wanted to see. We turned around and returned to York on the impossible mission of recovering the lost present! We found our way successfully into the heart of town, traffic wasn't too bad, we turned on our mobiles, and dropped Kate at the square. She verified that the bag was not at the fountain and headed for the bookstore on foot, while we took the car in search of somewhere we could just pull over for a minute. Before we found it she was phoning from the bookstore to say it was found! We turned around and picked her up in the square seconds later--and just kept going out of town: success!

Pretty easy though long drive south through Doncaster on the A1(M), the A1 and the M1. Got lost in Chesterfield, twice this time, but made it through to Bakewell--and then it's like we know the way home. Arrived at Aprille's at 7:00 sharp, and she was a wonderful host, making a meal for us!