It can be a challenge

 

 

…getting the group selfie right.

 

Now Tony has joined us in York.

 

Shiny objects

 

 

On a walk about town, turn a corner and this appears.

 

York Minster Cathedral.

 

Accompanied by one of the many street performers.

Seeming classically trained, this guy filled the air with a glorious voice.  After a chat with us, he volunteered a soaring rendition of a Roy Orbison song from our youth.

 

Hidden treasurers.

 

 

Places that might not be appealing.

 

Striking architecture.

 

Open air markets.

 

More shops.

 

Crowded streets.  (In the Shambles.)

 

And more spectacle.

 

It takes a special talent

 

 

…to frame-in functioning window sashes and trim in these buildings that are hundreds of years old.  The windows have to be squared to work, but the window openings no longer are.  Note the bottom of this window frome.

 

This particular building we are living in, is in the historic register as having been built in the early 1600s.  A walk through the flat requires some balance to navigate the wavy floors.  And in that photo of the stairway I sent earlier, note the exposed original wooden beams.

 

400 years old.

 

A bright sunny day

 

 

Perfect for a walk around the preserved medieval wall around old town.

 

 

See where the sun is on the horizon?  It’s not dawn, it’s noon, the heat of the day.  That’s as high as it gets in December.

 

 

 

We didn’t get very far before we were drawn down by a shiny object.  In this instance, a charming public park.

 

And more ruins.

 

 

And future ruins.

 

And walkways.

 

Every walk is a distracting experience.

 

 

Now we’re in York England

 

 

A cross-country train ride away from Newport Wales.

 

https://www.google.com/maps/dir/Newport/York/@52.6839489,-4.1917039,7z/data=!4m17!4m16!1m5!1m1!1s0x486e1e131ca04b95:0x495c163a920de244!2m2!1d-2.997664!2d51.584151!1m5!1m1!1s0x4878c340e19865f1:0x4774ab898a54e4d1!2m2!1d-1.0739108!2d53.9614205!2m1!5e2!3e3!5i5?entry=ttu

 

 

We’re glad to have made it amidst the ongoing rail strike.  The strikers are considerate enough not to just shut everything down all at once.  The strike rolls from region to region and still allows some travel, but the result is trains that are jam packed with people standing, and sometimes sitting, in the aisles for hours at a time on the longer routes.  (We were lucky enough to have assigned seats.)

 

Our afternoon arrival, first look at the Micklegate entrance (Micklegate Bar) to the old walled city.

 

…and through the passageway.

 

We share an entrance with The Partisan, a bakery and café (photo taken on a brighter day).

 

Up the stairs.

 

…and into our charming flat.

 

 

Chepstow Castle

 

 

A Norman castle.  Along the river Wye.  North of Bristol.

 

https://www.google.com/maps/place/Chepstow+Castle,+Chepstow+NP16+5EY/@51.6233866,-3.0481152,10z/data=!4m6!3m5!1s0x4871957acb196863:0x4977642c9c6b3a11!8m2!3d51.6440453!4d-2.6751883!16s%2Fg%2F1yfdrl_rq?entry=ttu

 

 

A train ride away.

 

We went there with Taylor.

 

…and explored every tower, nook, and cranny.

 

The castle was huge.  It was begun in the 1,000s and continuously upgraded, modified, and occupied for 600 years, until the Civil Wars of the 1600s when began its decline.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

There were informational placards of course, but there was plenty of empty time and space to fill with our own imaginings of the hundreds of years that this place was bursting with life.  The comings and goings, and daily routines of stocking, providing, and defending.  The sights, sounds, and laughter of families.  Well-worn steps up dark wet narrow winding passages, wondering which way the kids went last.

 

An interesting thing about this little lighthouse

 

 

It used to be taller.  It was built on stilts, but as the years went by, dumping, as we like to say in British, “the tipping of fly ash” raised the level of land around it, so now it’s really short!