My Grand Tour of England and Wales - Part 2 of X

Day 2 - Sherwood Forest-York (Cont'd)

After we left Jorvik, we walked around York, looking at all the charming and quaint shops - great fun, except that they all closed to early. One shop that caught Jie and Hwa's attention was "The Cat Gallery", the perfect place for cat suckers like them. I quickly tired of the place while they were looking around, and went outside, where I saw a cute terrier in a car.

Further on, we also saw:
- A branch of the so-called authentic French cafe bakery. It's really quite amazing that they've managed to infiltrate the British market - couldn't a chain from France just have come over? But at least the Delifrance in York was more authentic than the ones in Singapore and Malaysia.
- A shop which sold swords, historical figurines, guns and helmets (including a Corinthian model and a classic gladiator type) - all looking historically authentic.
- "Past Images", a shop where you and a group of friends or family can dress up in Medieval, Viking or Victorian clothing and take a picture, with an optional ghostly effect.

York's city walls were remarkably intact, but apparently this is because they were heavily restored in Victorian Times to be a tourist attraction. Despite this, I still rather liked them, not least because some parts date back to Roman times. Before heading to our Youth Hostel, we bought some strawberries, and their aroma suffused the car.

At the Youth Hostel, we found that there was Internet Access, albeit at an exorbitant price of 5 pounds an hour. It was advertised as being of ISDN speed, but in the end was slower than dialup. To add insult to injury, the terminal was crippled - it was impossible to open a new window with Ctrl+N, new windows that were opened were set to be Always On Top while Alt+Tab was disabled, so it was impossible to surf 2 sites at once, and the terminal logged you out a few seconds before the time ran out. Most irkingly, this was all provided by a cartel which also supplied internet access in the Windermere Youth Hostel.

Happily, though, this was made up for by a magic vending machine, which gave us 2 cans of Fanta Lemon for a mere 60 pence! This Hostel being a city-type, it was larger and less charming than the one we stayed in the previous night. However, I was amused by their female toilets, for the signs nailed to the doors of the toilets were intriguing - one was of a typical female figure, but another toilet had the silhouette of a woman with practically no figure, so I christened the toilets the Ladies' and the Butches' toilets respectively, and took pictures of the signs.

Day 3 - York-Edmundbyers

The next day we left York immediately, me having been dissuaded from taking in more of the city's sights in favour of sampling new tastes. Plunging into the countryside, we ended up by the side of some country road, and me and Jie were dropped off to look for the Brimham Rocks. We walked down a rocky trail, till my sister spotted a "no bicycles" sign and a narrow, barely visible trail up the hill through the undergrowth - my CSM would have been proud. She resolved to wait for Hwa while I, the intrepid explorer, proceeded to trek up the hill on my invigorating late morning hike. I've done worse in Area D, but this time I was in shorts and sandals, and so got stung by what I deduce from descriptions I've read in Enid Blyton should have been a nettle. The view from the top was rather scenic, but I noticed there was no one else there as this was probably the trail for the foolhardy who wanted to get up and close to the Brimham Rocks. As it turned out, most people parked at the dessignated car park a mile away and followed the user friendly "official" trail (which Hwa didn't get very far down, unfortunately).

After my little hike, we drove to Fountains Abbey and Studley Royal Water Garden, "Britain's largest monastic ruin and most complete Cistercian abbey" and one of the many World Heritage Sites in the UK. A group of schoolchildren was there at the same time, and got to dress up as mini-Cistercian monks in their white robes. There was a mill at the abbey, and I got to try my hand at hand grinding grain - even after many turns, the amount of flour that came out was pathetic.

While walking through the grounds of the Abbey and Water Garden, I lost Hwa and Jie so I went to look for them. My search was in vain, even though I looked at a kiosk selling ice cream - a good bet for looking for Hwa. Not finding him there, I bought a scoop of blackcurrant ice cream and continued looking for them. A while on, though, the scoop fell to the ground due to the iniquity of the kiosk - instead of using a proper hand scoop cone, they used one for soft serve ice cream, which had a flat surface on which the ice cream rested, so using the conservative licking method of eating the ice cream (as opposed to biting it, which'd make it finish faster), ran the risk of toppling it. I was disgusted initially and started to walk off, but I was so fed up that in the end I scooped up the ice cream, used my other hand to scrape the bottom part off, put it back firmly on the cone and continued eating. In the end, I walked maybe more than 4 miles around Fountains Abbey's grounds looking for them, till I almost died, though the late summer/early autumn weather made it slightly more tolerable.

After we left Fountains, we proceeded to another abbey - Rievaulx, which was pretty much more of the same, albeit in an even more godforsaken location. After that, we went to Rievaulx Terrace and Temples, where a rich man with nothing better to do and a surfeit of money and time had built replica Tuscan and Ionian (more Doric in style despite the name, actually) temples. While we were looking around, 2 propellor driven planes zipped past - Spitfires, if my identification was correct. Maybe they belonged to some club.

On our way to the next destination, we travelled the more scenic country roads and so got to see the rolling countryside. The disadvantage was that it was slower, there were sheep on the road (we could've knocked one down and had lamb chops for dinner) and at one point we went up a slope so steep (the gradient was 1:4 I think) that the car stalled and I had to get out.

The final attraction for the day was Mount Grace Priory, "the best preserved Carthusian monastery in England." We arrived with less than half an hour to spare, so we had to do a quick run of the place. I was rather excited because they had a reconstructed Carthusian cell and herb garden, and after we left I got to scare ducks on the road (the duck video that I have mentioned in earlier posts). However, I sadly contributed to the destruction of historical property, as part of the wall crumbled on me when I was taking a photograph.

The road to our youth hostel for the night was long and treacherous, taking us into the middle of heather moorland, to the village of EdmundByers. The hostel there was perhaps the most interesting I was to see - a former inn from 1600. There was a fireplace both in the lounge and our room.

Day 4 - Lindisfarne and Alnwick

The next day we set off after I bought a mutant scone - the biggest I've ever seen - for 40p from the youth hostel, and it was great with Nutella. Our destination was Holy Island - home of Lindisfarne Abbey, where Aidan and his Ionan monks established their base after crossing from Scotland. After walking through the ruins of the Priory (which apparently may not have been established on the site of the famous Priory that Aidan established), we walked to Lindisfarne Castle. Then we left for Alnwick Castle.

Alnwick, being still lived in, had an interior pretty much like other historical houses. Nevertheless, there were nice touches - like a Simpsons chess set, table soccer and a complaint letter for visitors to fill in. They also had on display letters of appointment given to the current Duke's ancestors, and the Kings' seals were huge.

When we stopped by a petrol station later, a can of "Dandelion and Burdock" drink caught my eye and I decided to try it. It tasted like Strepsils. (So now we know what flavours are in Strepsils)

Day 5 - Hadrian's Wall-Lake District

Friday was dedicated almost exclusively to seeing sites along Hadrian's Wall. Sadly, it was less complete than I'd been led to believe - the longest surviving stretch is only about 3/4 of a mile in length, all because people have been plundering stone from it for centuries.

The first site was Corbridge Roman Site, and later we saw the Brunton Turret. My sister was intrigued after reading about the tombstone of a Roman cavalryman, Flavinus, Standard-Bearer of the Petrian Cavalry in the troop of one Candidus and we went to Hexham Abbey to have a look at it. I ventured down to the darkly lit Crypt, but unfortunately the relics of St Andrew had long since disintegrated.

At Aldi supermarket, I picked up a jar of what was advertised as "luxury chocolate hazelnut spread", only to be shocked when I discovered its dirty little secret - it contained palm oil! Nevertheless, this ersatz Nutella wasn't too bad. Later, at Chester's Roman Fort, Hwa haram-ised a cat by feeding it fat stipped from (comparatively) expensive Italian ham.

We then visited the ruins of a Temple of Mithras. To get to it, we had to walk past several menacing and malicious looking cows which were lying on the grass just beside the path we had to walk down, and be careful not to step on cow dung. At the temple, there were casts of altars, wooden posts and statue fragments which, if I hadn't known they were casts, I would've mistaken for the real thing, for they felt like stone. Sadly, much of the temple had been defaced and desecrated, most probably by Christians who thought that the Mithraic sharing of wine and bread and importance placed on sacrifice were mockeries of their faith, though these practices were probably taken from the same source. I would've liked to have visited the full-scale reconstruction at the Museum of Antiquities in Newcastle (which also sounded like it had other interesting exhibits), but there was no time.

Along many stretches of Hadrian's Wall and at the forts, there were farms with sheep. How it is acceptable to let the sheep pee and defecate on and rub against Roman ruins (the National Trust actually owns the land but rents it out to the farmers), I don't know.

At Housesteads Roman Fort, I was told that there was a half a mile walk from the road to the remains. This sounded reasonable enough - till I passed the gate and saw that it was a steep uphill path all the way, and by the time I got to the fort, I was half dead (again).

After leaving the fort, I was sidetracked by a sign for the interesting-sounding Roman Army Museum. They were screening a hilarious Roman Army Recruitment Video promoting the Roman Army like a real recruitment video, which advertised 'job security', and where they had scenes of a mother writing a letter to her soldier son, and of her going to a temple to pray for him. There was also this scene where an auxiliary was taunting a legionary by saying he was looking forward to a 25 mile route march since he had lighter armour and a lighter shield, and I got to see "Roman Soldiers" training. Other nice touches included mosaic floors for the toilets. Sadly, photography was not allowed in the museum.

At the museum, they had an "Eagle's Eye" video about the wall showing, among other things, CG reconstructed portions. However, they kept flashing back to shots of an eagle, which was dumb and extremely irritating, and the music was bland and repetitive. Later in the bookshop, I saw an extremely specialised book - "Iron for the Eagles - The Iron Industry of Roman Britain", which included forging times!

By now, it was too late, so I was unable to visit Vindolanda, which sounded very interesting. According to a New York Times article, "Vindolanda was it. The site is vast, some 15 acres, with ruins of what was a very large settlement, including well-marked temples, bathhouses and (to the unending amusement of my children) toilets designed to be used by several people at a time. There is also a reconstructed section of the wall, a Roman temple, general store and house, and well-marked excavations of the civilian settlement that grew up around the fortress, with its weavers, grocers, alehouses, cheese makers and all the rest, as well as a working excavation site. The museum is a treasure trove, with dozens of examples of rare Roman writing on thin sheets of wood (the postcards of the day), with missives from home ranging from the practical: 'New underpants and socks are on the way,' to the heart-rending: 'Farewell, brother, most dear to your Secundus.' (The British Museum has named the Vindolanda tablets it has as among its top 10 treasures.) There are also artifacts galore: tools, religious objects, cutlery, bowls, stunning pottery, including a complete green glass bottle, weights and measures, cosmetic instruments, jewelry, tombstones and yet more shoes, some with beautiful leather latticework that would make today's shoe designers blush with envy."

Interestingly, there was a Shell near Hadrian's Wall that offered amazingly cheap (for the location) petrol - 73.9p/litre.

For the last item of the day, I tried to see the 'most complete (longest surviving) stretch of Hadrian's Wall' near Birdoswald. I got as far as a mile castle before there was a steep drop through wooded terrain, so I gave up.

We then drove south to the famous Lake District, towards our Youth Hostel for the night. The Lake District indeed was beautiful, but this beauty was marred by the fact that it was raining almost continuously, where the weather had hitherto been perfect, in the short half a day that we were there, and there were very few laybys by the side of the road, so many of the spots with the best scenery went unshot.


Misc notes:

According to notes on a menu at Fountains Abbey's cafe, the widely retold tale of Marco Polo learning pasta making from the Chinese is not true. Apparently the Romans were known to have eaten pasta. So much for yet another of the urban legends propagated by the Chinese to make them feel better about themselves because of their subsequent long period of decline!

The good thing about going in late summer is that the attractions don't close as early as in winter. At the same time, I escaped the hellish heat wave - especially deadly in a country with no air cons and few fans.

My sister claims it's okay to show your bra straps in the UK because it's the local culture. Bah.

Hwa and Jie have a penchant for playing silly, petty games which waste time.

My sister seems to have latched upon a good deal - she prepares and cooks the food, and me and Hwa do everything else, like washing up and drying. Since she enjoys the former, like most females, she gets to do what she likes while getting others to do the dirty work.

There were so many nice dogs to be seen around the UK. Especially compared with the number of cats we saw.

The advantage of travelling with Jie and Hwa is that you have someone to drive the car, cook the food and do much of the planning, which saves you a great deal of hassle. This is the only way to travel!

It seemed that the roads we drove by were never dirty or strewn with leaves, even though many had trees by their side. Didn't the trees shed their leaves? If so, where did all the leaves go? A few were to be seen by the side of the road, but how did they get there if no one swept them there?

English Heritage always provides immersive audioguides which furnish you with a wealth of information. However, after a while they grate on your nerves as they're too verbose and they always insist on conjuring up some long-winded character from an earlier era to be your guide, and it becomes tiresome.

Sometimes I think it's a conspiracy. Some sites are owned by English Heritage but managed by National Trust (or vice versa). Then you find that sites near the first are managed by the other agency. So you end up having to pay ticket charges unless you're a member of both.

I wonder how they manage to come up with such glowing descriptions for various buildings and sites. After all there can only be a certain number of "best preserved", "largest" or "most spectacular" sites. Perhaps in the not too distant future, we will see a place advertised as the "best preserved 14th Century Neo-Romanesque Cathedral with an organ with the most number of pipes in England that has an extant stained glass representation of Becket's murder and was also one of the places where Charles II worshipped". Or something.

It seems people only recently have acquired a sense of history, for not too far back they were still looting old sites for their stone, lead and what not.

It isn't very nice to see historical sites that are bare of artefacts, which have all been moved to museums. The sites lose their strappings, and the artefacts their context. Nevertheless, I suppose it is necessary for conservation reasons, and to protect the items from vandalism, thieves and Mother Nature.

How come the British don't tire of Fish and Chips? Judging from the plethora of Fish and Chips shops all over the country, they must eat it very often for the shops to stay in business. Also, the British know how to make their fish extremely crispy, so why can't they do that for the chips too? Instead, the chips all come out soggy.

One day I would like to embark on a modern version of the 18th Century Grand Tour of Europe, preferably with a group of like-minded friends. I don't think I'll be able to afford it, though, so I would have to split it up into several trips. At least it is a comfort to know that British Public Transport is the most expensive and least efficient in Europe.

Why do Singaporeans always like to affect accents when talking to Caucasians? Perhaps it is a way of trying to live up to what is seen, consciously or unconsciously as higher standards. I don't deny that I am affected by it too, but I at least don't try to intensify the faux accent, and even try to restrain it.

The amount of prepared food available in British supermarkets just dazzles me when I compare it to the measly selection we have over here. But then they don't have hawker centres over there, and the only food places that open late are Chinese Takeaways. The junk food selection also compares favourably with Singapore (we have pathetically few crisp flavours), but of course it probably pales in comparison with the US.

Why do Singaporeans like to go overseas to study, but then cluster with and mix exclusively or almost exclusively with other Singaporeans, or at most, other Asians, mostly of Chinese descent? I was always under the impression that one big point about studying abroad was to get to know and interact with people from all over the world.

It seems each time I go to the UK, it becomes more and more expensive. I shudder to think how much I'd jave to pay if I went there a 4th, or even 5th time. As it stands, I'm now so poor that I'll have to eat at the cookhouse every meal and stay in camp till ORD.


Sign:

Fish and chips. A great way to give hunger a battering! They're also a great source of energy and provide valuable protein, fibre, vitamins and minerals! [Ed: RIGHT.]

TO BE CONTINUED