Hear My Train A Comin’

I’ve always thought that Carter’s Court, developed by my grandfather and great uncle, in my hometown of Franklin, Tennessee, was a great concept. I’ve thought the same of the Village in Gatlinburg. Obviously Old World-inspired, narrow corridors lined with shops and restaurants.

And so it was with great joy that I caught my first lengthy train ride — the 35-minute journey to Hemel Hempstead didn’t count — and headed north to York last week.

Let me just get this out of the way so there is no doubt how I feel about York. If you ever get the chance, GO. Go, go, go. It is so worth a visit.

First off though, some thoughts on train travel.

It is such an incredible shame that rail is not more utilized in America. The drive from London to York would take… WHAT?! 65 hours?! Oh… wait just a second. That’s the walking directions. Okay, whew. Let me switch that to driving, bear with me. It would take four hours by car. By train, it took half of that. And you don’t have to do anything but sit there and watch the scenery roll by.

In addition to being fast, it is also comfortable and affordable, and on each trip that I have taken, it’s not been crowded at all. People may argue America is too spread out for rail to be practical, but if you view Europe as a singular body made up of its individual countries (i.e. states), then how different is it really? If nothing else, regional rail should absolutely be a thing in America.

But I’ll digress for now.

When you leave the train station upon arriving in York and head towards the city centre (I’m going to start spelling it colour before you know it, too), the first thing that should catch your attention is that the old city walls are still in tact, portions of which date all the way back to Roman times when the original barriers were erected in 71.

Ha. 71. And I thought I was seeing some old stuff when I visited St. Augustine before I left the States.

The walk to my Airbnb for my way-too-brief stay in York was best described in a single word as quintessential. After crossing the river into York proper, I was immediately walking along cobblestone streets, taking turns down narrow passageways where the history seemed to reach out and grab you.

What is it I’ve been saying, simply incredible?

Well… simply incredible.

I finally felt like I was experiencing that for which I came over here. Don’t get me wrong, London was cool, but this was the stuff that really excited me.

I’m sure if I was visiting in the summer, I might have felt differently as I know the crowds are much larger, but this felt perfect with pretty much all the shops closing at 5 and the pubs staying open into the wee hours. The toughest part about finding something good to eat was deciding how in the world you would narrow down the choices. For breakfast, I’d walk down to the grocery the night before to pick up some eggs and then get up that morning for a quick walk to the bakery to pick up a fresh pastry or two.

That is the experience I desire the most. Feeling like I’m totally immersing myself into these cultures by doing the simple day-to-day things we all do.

One thing I finally did in York was try my first cider (while also enjoying one of the best burgers I’ve ever had), and it was absolutely delicious.

I’m just thankful the server didn’t make fun of me for the way I pronounced it when I ordered it. I absolutely should have known it would be like moot as opposed to like mount with the N but alas. Of course, their tagline *is* “mispronounced since 1947” so at least I’m not alone!

Obviously there was some sightseeing involved also. The York Minster was hands down the highlight in that regard.

If all you did was look at the impressive medieval stained glass, you could spend hours there, and in fact the Great East Window — which dates back to 1408 — is largest expanse of such glass in the world.

I took a ton of photos here, finally pulling out the compact camera I brought with me, only to discover one problem: I never purchased an SD card reader so there they sit on the camera, unable to be transferred to my computer. Eh, I’ll get to it, so for now, you’ll just have to believe my words when I say the entire cathedral was impressive.

I could have stayed in York for much longer than the three nights I was there, but alas, I had to catch my next train to travel west across the country to Liverpool where I’m currently stationed.

My plans for the next week or so are to stay here for a couple more nights, head back south to Bath for a quick visit, and then it’s on to see how much of three years of French I took in high school stuck as I head to Paris on Friday.

What more could I need than to be able to ask where the library is (où est la bibliothèque) and order a ham sandwich (je voudrais un sandwich de jambon)?

I’m all set.