Old York, Old York

I love public transportation. Sure, sometimes it’s slow and cumbersome, but where else can you find yourself sandwiched between Labor MPs (that’s “Member of Parliament”), Aussies, Indians, and Haitian immigrants all barreling toward Kings Cross Station several hundred feet below the streets of London? Pretty cool. Plus, I’ve become a Tube expert and running from carriage to connecting carriage has become somewhat of a game for me – I climb hundreds of steps two-at-a-time and run past throngs of commuters trying to make connections that the Tube planners never intended for me to make. I’m that fast. The other night I ran onto the Barbican platform and dove head first into a departing carriage with the doors closing just inches from my feet. The commuters in the cabin broke into spontaneous applause at my accomplishment. I just refuse to wait for the next train. In contrast, catching a regional train is much less demanding. I rode the Flying Scotsman once more toward Edinburgh, but got off in York this time. York is a really fun city to explore, and it’s a shame that I only had one day in the medieval walled city. My first stop was York Minster, the largest gothic cathedral in Northern Europe, and the second most important seat of church government in the Anglican Communion behind Canterbury (photos above). The highlight of the visit was a tour of the undercroft, treasury and crypt, where you can see the remains of a Roman fortress, Viking and Norman fortifications, and medieval carvings. It was here in 306 AD that Constantine was proclaimed Emperor of the Roman Empire. Constantine, as the first Christian Emperor, declared the Edict of Milan, which granted religious freedom throughout the Empire and marked an end to the open persecution of Christians.



I was especially impressed by the massive stained glass panels in the Minster. In the above photograph you can see the Rose Window, erected in 1500, which commemorates the unions of the houses of York and Lancaster, and an end to the vicious War of the Roses. On the north transept you will find the Minster’s oldest window, the Five Sister’s (c. 1260), which contains green and grey “grisaille” glass placed in geometric patterns that look very Moorish. It’s believed that parishioners returning from the crusades erected this window, and the intricate nature of the design was influenced by their experiences in the Holy Land. I was kicked out of the cathedral in the early afternoon to make way for an impending wedding – can you imagine getting married in a massive gothic cathedral? – so I decided to return for services in the evening.



Shane and his Aggie friends had visited York a few weeks previously and had talked about there being animatronics at the Viking museum, so I purchased my ticket and waited with anticipation. Unfortunately, the Viking exhibit was in desperate need of some Disney Imagineering… a simple swiveling head and gyrating arm do nothing for me – I want to see a Ben Franklin climb stairs in the Hall of Presidents! You could even hear the loud pneumatic pumps used to drive the models with hydraulics… hydraulics!? No self-respecting imagineer would be caught dead without elastomeric skin and digital servos. How disappointing. I left the Vikings for the more palatable history of the Victorian Era, as presented by the York Castle Museum. The curators did a masterful job of recreating entire period streets indoors (photo above) – the objects on display were all originals and even the store fronts on the Victorian and Edwardian streets were authentic, transported from towns and cities throughout England.



The medieval city wall surrounding York closes after dusk, so I quickly climbed the fortification and walked the several-mile long path along the wall (photo taken from wall above). At several points along the wall my walk took me right next to a multi-story dwelling where you could look directly into someone’s home… creepy. I made my way back to the Minster just in time to catch the Choral Evensong service that night. I was directed into the church quire, an intricately carved wooden sanctuary at the heart of the cathedral (think “Holy of Holies” but without the Shakina Glory), followed by various ministers and the York boy’s choir. The heavily liturgical service was lovely and I really enjoyed the corporate worship – as you can imagine, the acoustics were unbelievable… long after finishing a song, our voices would linger in the cathedral like plucked chords. The service lasted for a while, and afterwards I had just enough time to call my folks before catching the last train home. Grace & Peace.