23rd - 25th July

Parkrun was cancelled on Saturday, as there were horse races at the same venue. As someone who is vehemently anti racing, this was a big disappointment in many ways. I intended to go for a late afternoon run to compensate, but after a day of walking around the city with giant blisters, I chose to sit with my feet up instead.
Instead of parkrun, I took myself to the museum gardens, where I met a squirrel, had a closer look at the abbey ruins, and found a garden of edible flowers, herbs and fruits. By the time I’d left my fingers were covered in the scent of various mints, sages, thymes and other plants I hadn’t heard of before. I may have also accrued a mint leaf or two for my drinking bottle – much more pleasant tasting than tap water.

I finally made it into the Minster, where I arrived ten minutes before another tour. Our tour guide was a volunteer with a wonderful, dry sense of humour. The architecture of the place is amazing. For a church which burned in fire four times, the fact that it is still standing is incredible. The fact that it is standing with nothing but gravity holding it together, is nothing short of a miracle. All the arches, the weight of the stones and the pushing force of the ceiling and walls against each other, creates a structure which stands stable, with not a hint of mortar. The lantern tower alone weighs the equivalent of around forty jumbo jets. Forty! And it’s sitting ON TOP of the building, with nothing but gravity holding it in place.

Visually, it’s overwhelming. It took over two hundred and fifty years to build, and the detail on every section means you have to keep returning to make sure you didn’t miss anything. The walls, both inside and out, bear gargoyles, face carvings, saint statues, and memorials. The ceiling bosses each depict various scenes, and some were made to an exact replication, after fire destroyed the ceiling. Our guide showed us a photo of the only boss which wasn’t an exact

replica. It was a scene of the Virgin Mary, feeding baby Jesus. As the boss was reproduced in Victorian times, a decision was made to feed Jesus with a glass, instead of the traditional breastfeeding image. Breastfeeding was far too controversial. Some things don’t change.

In front of the Nave is a screen of carvings, each a king of England. William the Conqueror is the first on the left. As our tour guide pointed out, the kings all appeared to use the same hairdresser.

The glass windows alone are worth the visit. There are 128 of them. The rose window was cracked into 40,000 pieces after a lightning strike on the building, and by some miracle was still standing. It took four years and several million pounds to repair. The Rose Window commemorates the end of the War of the Roses.
Some of the windows stand over 23m tall, and over 9m wide. During WWII, the glass was removed and buried to avoid damage from bombs. When reassembled, we were informed that several mistakes were made, and Mary sported a beard for quite a while before the error was noticed. The stained glass in the Minster is about 60% of the total medieval stained glass in England. One glance at the size of them and you can see why.

At 4pm, the clock chimed. The chime was created by the swords of two warriors hitting a metal bar. I also got to hear the choir, and the organ playing. The main organ is a monstrosity of over 5000 pipes. Don't quote me on that. The pipes are around the sides of the choir box, with the impressive looking structure behind it a Victorian addition, just for show, in typical Victorian style.

Underneath the Minster, is an exhibition about the Roman presence in York. The Minster is built on a Roman site, and you can still see the original road and walls in the Undercroft. There are also examples of dozens of artefacts found, from clothing, to weapons, to cooking utensils and decorative pins. Alongside the artefacts is a timeline of the Minster area. This shows the full history of the Minster area, from when Constantine was proclaimed emperor, to c.627, when King Edwin was baptised, up to modern times.
At this point an announcement was made that the Undercroft was closing soon, so I trekked out into the sunshine and came back to Tim’s to pack.

I’m still trying to work out how such a small quantity of clothing can take up so much space, and more importantly, how it all weighs so much! I’ve decided that all the hard legwork at the gym was worth so much more than general fitness- I can climb a set of stairs with my backpack, and that is a useful skill to have at present!

Sunday was an exciting day. I made it to Scotland! Finally!
After a long delay at the station, we pulled off towards the North. At 1pm, one very excited Australian alighted from the train, took a quick snapshot of the station sign (the first proof) and rushed out to meet Hannah, whose house and cats I’ll be minding.
Hannah is most hospitable, and she and her mother took me out to a local pub for dinner. The waiter managed to organise a vegan version of their vegetarian haggis, along with a “wee dram of whisky to pour over it, as we

don’t have any sauces for you here”. What an introduction to Scotland! I’m surrounded by fabulous accents, and am a mere 10km from Linlithgow Palace, where Mary, Queen of Scots was born. Hannah has kindly lent me her Historic Scotland membership, meaning I can see the palace and several other locations for free.

Monday was exciting in a whole other sense. Hannah had told me about a country park, about 7km from here. In typical Mem style, when I decided to walk there, I’d already forgotten the directions. A diversion into the local golf course, where I met two gentlemen who set me on my way, and gave me the card for the club in case I got very lost. I couldn’t tell you what time I arrived at Beecraigs, but I’m very glad for the raincoat I packed. Beecraigs has a collection of fields, with deer, cattle and some pigs and sheep in pens. They have raised platforms, so visitors can view the animals as an attraction. I’m not sure how comfortable I was with the idea, once I realised it’s a form

of zoo for native animals and livestock. On the one hand, the fields are a reasonable size. The animals are safe, and bred for the purpose of human viewing (as opposed to human eating). On the other hand, it’s still a form of animal exploitation, and the signs present telling me how nutritious this particular beef or venison is, made me question the purpose of this “educational” place.
Beecraigs also has a loch, partly man made in 1914. The reservoir was originally used as a water source for West Lothian, and was built by German prisoners of war. Nowadays it is stocked with trout for fishing.

Disappointed with Beecraigs, I realised I was closer to Linlithgow than I was to home. I decided to walk back to Linlithgow and catch the bus. Of course, I was unsure of directions again, and three lots of “excuse me’s” later, I arrived. The route took me through a series of fields, filled with wildflowers and a view of the country side. Most definitely a highlight of the walk.

Hungry, thirsty, mostly dry, I found a café where the waitress couldn’t for the life of her differentiate between vegan and gluten free. I’d clarified for her, and she suggested a ham and salad toasty. I’ve since discovered there are several places in Linlithgow which are vegan friendly. Café Strawberry is not one of them!
At this point it was 3pm, and I realized I’d been walking for five hours straight. I visited a few op shops in the hope of finding some thermal wear, or a guitar, but no luck with either. Then came the search for the bus. In my infinite wisdom, I’d left both the address and bus directions at the house. Several more “excuse me’s” to friendly looking people, a couple of repetitions as the accent really can be that thick, and I found my way. Mr. Bus Driver let me off in the right place, and I suddenly realized I didn’t know the way from the bus stop to the house, as I’d walked a different way. It was only a five minute walk, but it certainly it felt longer, after an entire day on my feet.
The home I am minding is surrounded by farmland. It’s incredibly rural, and there are wildflowers everywhere. My first view of Scottish thistle was right next to the front door, and I’ve since discovered it grows like a weed here. It’s all very pretty, and a taste of what I believe is to come. I've been baa'ed at by a flock of sheep, stared at by some grazing cows, and steadfastly ignored by the horses. I’m currently researching Scotland and all the incredible places I plan to see over the coming weeks.
Tonight, I have my feet up, a large dinner, and no plans to do anything too strenuous tomorrow. The food in the picture below is my last meal at Goji, in York. A reminder that deliciousness exists all over the world (just not at Cafe Strawberry).