Spring Bank Holiday

The Spring Bank Holiday (May 27th, 2007) enables Londoners to head out for the countryside to breathe a lungful of fresh air or for the coast to get the cherished genuine tan (even the eternal supply of fake tan lotion runs out after a long winter). Thus, as good Londoners, Angy and I got up early last Saturday (with barely a 2-hour sleep after my last minute hard work) and took a cab for King's Cross station.

The Flying Scotsman train brought us quickly to York, the ancient capital of northern England. This beautiful medieval town is flooded with tourists eager to burn the buttons of their digital cameras at the sights of the famous York Minster or to splash out on the silliest souvenirs available at the quantly cobbled Shambles.

York Minster is a superb Gothic cathedral which truly deserves a visit to understand why it is called the "church of the windows". York's popular pattiserie, Betty's, offered yammy sweets which we smuggled into the Cafe Nero where we had a coffee while I completed my work. In the evening, we popped into an alternative cyber-pub, Evil Eye, before wandering around until all restaurants were closed in this early dining country. We ended up at an Italian restaurant with awful food and an even worse manager.

On Sunday we jumped on a bus for a trip through the North York Moors National Park. We stopped at the unexpected Castle Howard, just 5 miles from York, and it really amazed us: such a rich palace surrounded by gardens and lakes looked like a small Versailles in northern England. Unfortunately, soon after it started raining, so the picturesque villages and sheep-crammed landscapes appeared blurred through the windows of our old suffering bus, which rode up and down the hills until reaching the village where we would spend our second night: Whitby.