Day Four was a road trip of sorts to York. Up early and off to the train station we managed to get through King's Cross without a hitch. The ride was uneventful until we hit Donchester when our area of the train was invaded by the self-named "Daddy Day Care" bunch.
Now you would think that visiting a country where English is the national language that a native speaker would have no trouble comprehending the people met along the way. Nothing could be further from the truth. I think I had an easier time understanding everyone in Japan then at times here. There was actually one point where one of the Dads was speaking to the other and I couldn't understand a single word of it.
Once we got off the train it was time to figure out where we wanted to go and what we wanted to do. The only thing on JP's schedule was seeing a castle. So we knew we had to do that. Other than that we had no clue what direction to even head in. A quick stop in the info center and a few minutes studying the map at least put us in the right direction.
We walked over to the Clifford Tower, and climbed the steep mountainous stairs to find a great view and a steep price of admission for not much. So it was right back down again and across the street to the York Castle Museum.
Now with a name like York Castle Museum you'd expect it to be about castles, or medieval period. At least that's what I thought. Nope, it's a museum about life in York through the years. Quite interesting to see the furniture and typical items that were used in everyday life. There was also segments about funerals, clothing, and an entire area dedicated to the 60s. On the lower level was a replica of a late 1700s town, what York would have looked like back then. In the second wing of the castle turned museum was the cells and details of how it was used as a prison, mostly for debtors but also more serious crimes. I found it very creepy. All of the cells were the same, doors and all, and one of them was an example of a cell that nine men suffocated to death in.
Once we were done with the museum it was time to go exploring. The main road of York is lined with all kinds of stores and shops. Many of them were chains and retails establishments. A lot of restaurants. A TON of people. Everywhere we're families going from shop to shop. We stopped in a few, had the best hot chocolate ever at York's Chocolate Story store, and saw an abbey/cathedral.
Eventually we made our way to a pub to kill time. As JP had put it at the time, "there are five more hours to go." I replied , "there are only five hours left!" The pub turned out to be the best decision we made. I'm convinced that if you stay in one place long enough that some Brit will come along and entertain you. Just when JP was about to try an nap in the middle of the pub, an old man came and sat at the table next to us (the tables are nearly on top of one another) and another middle aged guy came to join him asking if it was okay for them to sit next to us. I said sure and with that we suddenly had four new friends.
Os (the old man) and Billy (middle aged guy) were joined by Os's son and Billy's daughter, both of whom never got the chance to give their names - each was referred to simply as eldest child. JP later sure he wasn't sure if it was what they were saying or simply their accents that did it but the bunch of us spent the next hour laughing and sharing stories. It turned out that they had come to that pub for the same reason we did, to pass the time. They were great with advice on where we should eat and ideas for where to go for a bit of nightlife in London. In the end it was sad to see our new friends go.
After Os and Billy left we decided to hit the road too. There was only three hours now til our train an we had yet to find dinner. First we headed back to another pub we saw earlier not too far from the train, only to be turned away because JP was wearing sweatpants and a sweatshirt or a track suit as they call it. I knew from watching "The Weekenders" that the dress code in the UK can be quite strict, with some places turning you away for wearing sneakers (aka trainers) or sweats (track suit) but I never expected it to happen in a pub. JP's selection on attire presented a problem as suddenly the only establishments open to eat were nice sit down restaurants, supermarkets, and carry out food. We settled on carry out fish and chips. Not ideal but still pretty good.
After we'd eaten and I'd share my philosophy on Brooklyn (that its not all the great nor the end all be all of NYC like everyone pretends it is - Queens!!) we headed to the supermarket to grab a few snacks. I picked up my new favorite - Kinder Surprise. I'm not sure if its the chocolate, the toy, or the fact that they're illegal in the States, but I can't help buying one when I go to the store. That and giant Capri-sun juice boxes.
Armed with snacks, and candy that contained new toys, it was off to the freezing cold train station. It wasn't for a while that we noticed there was a heated waiting room. It was a welcome break from the cold. Inside we were welcomed to the foreign drama between the woman working the coffee stand and a man who was trying to convince her to believe what he was saying. JP and I couldn't discern if it was her brother or her boyfriend but it was clear that whatever he was selling, she wasn't buying it.
Finally our train arrived and on it we found two young Brits occupying the seats next to us busy snapchatting and discussing movies and video games. They seemed to be old friends and it was interesting to listen to the two of them interact.
There was also a cat on the train.
The train actually arrived into Kings Cross early, leaving plenty of time for our next adventure: the London night bus.
In one of the guide books that I read before the trip it recommended a ride on the night bus for a view of interesting locals. Well our night bus was quite popular, and took a long time to arrive. It was a good thing that JP and I were at the front of the line because the bus soon became packed.
I'm not sure what the novelty behind the night bus is that would make the guide book include it. Maybe it's good for people who lived in the suburbs or small cities their whole lives. To me the night bus was just a smattering of locals trying to get home. There were the drunks with their McDonald's, the late night workers, the zombies wanting to crawl into bed.
I was definitely in the zombie category. We got off the bus a stop late and the walk was a bit long. We passed by one of the bars and saw that the party was raging in there (and was too much for one guy who was nearly passed out on the sidewalk).
Finally we made it back to the hostel. You'd think that would mean just crawling into bed and getting some sleep. Nope. We opened the door and immediately a hot, humid, smelly cloud hit me like a ton of bricks. Someone in the room had decide to close both of the windows and turn the heat up as high as possible. All around me were bodies drenched in sweat. Immediately I regretting bundling up so well for the days adventures as the sweat began to run down my face. My first action was to figure out how to open the window, and keep it open. I knew it had to be propped open but I didn't have anything to do that with. I could use my shoe or first aid kit an risk losing it to the street below but there had to be a better option. I was only getting hotter as the minutes passed, making it harder to take mental inventory of my supplies. Suddenly I remembered that I had a mega Capri-sun juice box in my bag I hadn't drank. I quickly drained its contents into my parched mouth and folded up the aluminum pouch. It was sufficient to keep the window open and get a small breath of fresh, cool air in the room (and dissipate the smell of bodies) but I could still hear, and feel, the furnace blazing. I remembered from my previous travels that a lot of European heaters have a valve or some means of turning the heat up and down. Frantically I searched along the edge for one and found one of them easily gave way. Now in a nearly pitch black room it was a matter of figuring out how to turn it off instead of making it hotter. I turned the knob in one direction and waited. The sound of the heater worker got louder, which told me it probably was the wrong choice, and I quickly turned the knob in the opposite direction until the heater was silent. I could finally sleep without roasting alive in my bed.
Thankfully we are switching rooms for the night. While it is New Years and we're not sure how much actual time will be spent there while we're ringing in the new year with everyone else at least I can put sauna room behind me for a night.
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