York

A week or two ago, I went to York to meet with Penelope Walton Rogers who is a major name in my field of study, and also happens to be one of my thesis advisors.  We were to meet on a Wednesday, but I couldn't take a train there and not spend a day playing tourist.  I brought my friend Janilee Plummer, also an American PhD working under Gale, who did her archaeological dig work in York as a guide.  We took a room in The Dairy Guest House, just south of the walled medieval part of the city, and spent Tuesday and Thursday looking around the city and meeting with her friends.

A picture of the walls, of course.  It constantly astounds me how close modern living is in relation to all these medieval landmarks I've seen only in pictures while I was in the States.  I think, because there is so much space in America, and we tend to protect our national monuments by buying up the surrounding land to put a buffer around them, that I expect the same here on this small island.  The image I put up shows one of the major roads in York and its proximity to the old walls.  You can walk on the walls by going up through one of the gate towers.

I didn't go up...this time.  I really am going to have to go back.  Lots.  I need to see the Minster, go on a Ghost Walk, check out the Roman Bath museum.  They also have Craft Walks that include shops like Duttons for Buttons (I found the craft walk pamphlet on Thursday and showed it to Janilee, then got roundly cursed for not finding it sooner).  And this shop, which I passed coming from Penelope's work:

Of course I had to get a picture.

I saw the Jorvik Viking Center first thing.  They don't allow pictures on the tour, but I did get some of the combs they had on display.  I also talked for a bit to some of the people that worked there who were in garb, including one gal who was doing some naalbinding.  We got around to the topic of my thesis (I was about to say dissertation, but that's American) and she started asking questions, which led to brainstorming with others that worked there, and eventually I got a list of six books to investigate.   So, do I count my time there as research or tourism?  It's a puzzlement.

This guy was in the window of the gift shop there at Jorvik.  Obviously, he his modeled after a Viking longboat prow.  He was donated by the artist, Pete Bowsher, the UK International Chainsaw Carving champion, from wood cut away from electric wires.  W-O-W.

When I was done with that, I waited for Janilee in a small brick courtyard in a bit of a drizzle (big surprise).  Under the branches of a large tree, a guy was talking about owls, and had brought along some specimens to demonstrate.  You could also get your picture taken with one or more of the owls.  Here's Gizmo.

This one is a 14 week old snowy owl, who was doing very well for being in public at such a young age.  She did get a bit miffed with her handler, as he demonstrated the noise they use for training, which is usually followed by her favorite treat, a chicken foot.  He didn't have one, so she demonstrated her feelings by turning her back to him and stretching her wings.

The picture isn't great because she didn't hold still very much.

This one is Buzz, as in Buzz Lightyear.

And this owl is the largest predatory bird known.  The handler was telling a story about that type of owl (I'm sure I'll be hearing from my husband shortly as to what exactly it is) was captured on film by a BBC documentary team working on a piece about wolves.  They were filming a pack of six wolves, when suddenly an owl of this type flew into the shot.  It was only on tape for about 32 seconds, but in that time this single bird killed three of the wolves and carried off a fourth.  Apparently, there is a copy of this on You Tube, but I haven't found it yet.  Anyway, here's the owl.

That was all within the first two hours of arriving!  I'm going to have to continue this next week, I think.  I'm really trying to update every Sunday...at least that's the goal.

Flowers...as promised

I am constantly surprised at all the different flowering plants around here.  In Oklahoma, flowers stay around outdoors for such a short period of time, but here I saw the first flower, a snowdrop, in Platt Field Park on January 28.  Since then, something has always been in flower.

I love that, actually.  The walk along Denison to the bus stop is always fragrant, and Manchester as a whole doesn't smell like a big city, until you get to the very down town part of the city.  Even there, flowering trees are fairly common.

At the moment, butterfly bushes are blooming.  They grow here like weeds.  Seriously.  I've seen butterfly bushes on the tops of buildings, in abandoned lots, growing out of broken windows in derelict buildings...  They smell wonderful!  I do wish that they had nicer greenery, but the blossoms are amazing.

Anyway, here are some of the pictures I've been taking of the plant life I see around here.

Not a terribly exciting blog entry, but I've really been enjoying the plants since I got here.  They keep my walks and bus rides interesting.

Beverly Minster

This beautiful building is found in (you guessed it) Beverly in Yorkshire, and was the concluding building for our visit. 

It has such amazing stone work, with such detail, care and precision, its astounding.  We don't know the name of the artists who did the work, which is unfortunate.  They deserve recognition for what they did.

Just look at this sculpture of Saint Catharine (I know it's supposed to be her because she is always depicted with a sword and a wheel of fortune - not the tv show, but the wheel we all ride as our fortunes go up and down).  I'm very impressed by the drapery of the cloth, and how well it has withstood the effects of time.  The little grotesque at her feet is not quite so lucky.

One of the things that continues to surprise me, though I suppose it shouldn't by now, is the number of strange images that are obviously not religious that show up in these churches.  Like this guy who has a face instead of feet. Or maybe he is kneeling on a demon.

This creature is probably performing a rude gesture:

One of the strangest things to me was that within a working church with an assigned chaplain and specified meeting times there is a gift shop.  Stranger still was what I found in the gift shop.

Smack in the center there is a sarcophagus.  And commemorative floor and wall tiles paid for by wealthy families to memorialize their dead.  I'm not sure I ever figured out who was buried here, but the fabric details in the carving caught my attention.

There is such wonderful attention to what was probably a very costly and beautiful costume.  I would like to have seen it fully painted.


Over in the corner of the shop was the sarcophagus of this poor fellow:

The legs that give you a perspective of the size of this monument (which also indicates its comparative lack of importance) are those of my friend Hannah.  She was teasing me that I could not sneak up on her; she could hear me coming from the sound of my camera.  Well, I did eventually run out of battery.  But not before I got pictures of this lovely lacy stonework:

These beautiful pipes for the organ:

Or this interesting modern sculpture of pilgrims,

with their matching stained glass window.  (There's stained glass in the pilgrims themselves as well.)

I did not get pictures of the 68 misericords, the Norman era baptismal font or the grounds.

After visiting the Minster, Hannah and I stopped at a tea shop, where I picked up some traditional turkish delight, in the traditional flavors of rose and lemon.  I really enjoyed the rose flavored ones.  After the jello-like substance was gone, the scent of roses stayed in the roof of my mouth for about fifteen minutes afterward.  It was lovely.


Next time...flowers!

St. Peter's at Barton-on-Humber

Next on that tour we crossed the Humber River over a suspension bridge.  I thought it was amusing that the retirement age people on the bus were excited about that.  But then, if you don't take a childish delight in things, where is the fun in life?

St. Peter's is an honest-to-goodness Anglo-Saxon church, with sections of the tower built around 970 AD.  It was decommissioned as a church around 1970 due to lack of attendance.  On the day that we were there, it was raining (big surprise), and so the walk up to the building was damp, grey, and had the type of atmosphere you would expect for walking through an ancient graveyard.

Unfortunately for this picture, my camera automatically adjusts to dim light.  Which is great if you are photographing medieval documents without a flash, but it did lose the quality of light that existed at this place on this day.

One of the gravestones reminded me of Snow White, because of its shape, and the Poe-like romantic quality of the ivy.

As you come around the corner from this, the tower comes into view.

The bottom level has the rounded arches supporting the pointed arches.  The second section, which was built about ten years later, has the pointed windows.  The top section was built sometime in the next century.  Here's a better view:

The rest of the building dates to the 14th century.  I like the wooden door within the door seen here:

The skeleton to the right just added to the feel of the place.

A view of the oldest part of the church from inside:

And then there is this very strange door.  It does not match the rest of the already eclectic building.  The rock work is very uneven, with stones poking out at various lengths, giving a somewhat eerie feel to it - like it was bricked up by someone in a hurry.  From the outside, however, the rock has been smoothed out. 

Because it is no longer a functioning church, and is owned by English Heritage, an archaeological dig was performed on the graveyard and under the flooring.  The interior of the building is now a strangely cheerful, macabre museum set up of what they found.

There are signs and exhibits discussing burial practices and how they had changed over the centuries.  One one interactive section you could push a button, answering the question of whether you would preferred burial or cremation (cheerful topic for a day out with the kids!)  Whole skeletons were on display, as well as old coffins, bones showing particularly nasty diseases, and this gem.

This poor soul was found with his skull cut open, as is visible on the picture, but also with a wooden stake replacing the vertebrae in his neck.  Hannah, a PhD that studies vampire and werewolf literature couldn't get her hands on pencil and paper fast enough.

The building was very interesting, and the grounds were beautiful, but I honestly can't decide which was creepier - the fact that there were bodies all over (well, under really) the place, or the fact that there should have been, but they had all been dug up.  It was astounding, either direction.

Of course, leave it to English Heritage to take all the fun out of things...

In case you can't read the finer print, it says "Please take care as historic sites can be hazardous."

Conisbrough Castle

Last Saturday I went on a day bus trip arranged by MANCASS (Manchester Anglo-Saxon Society) around Yorkshire.  It would have been a shame to spend all of my time while I'm here at libraries, conference rooms, and inside my flat, after all.  So off I went.  We got to see and cross the Humber River - three times.  We spent time at Barton-on-Humber, where I tried new foods, got teased by the waitress about my accent, and bought my first Turkish Delight.  I saw lots of baby animals, especially lambs, and pheasants.  I also spent the day talking to Dr. Hannah Priest, a goth type woman who studies vampires and werewolves in 12th, 13th and 21rst century literature.  It was great!

We went to a castle and four churches.  I'm going to focus my next few blog entries on each in turn.  The day started at Conisbrough Castle, made famous by a reference in Ivanhoe by Sir Walter Scott, of which it is very proud.  It was built about 1180 for Hamelin Plantagenet, the half brother of king Henry II.

The main tower is around 100 feet high.  It took three flights of stairs to reach the top, one of which was outside the tower because they were concerned about weak walls due to battering ram damage.  Flash photography doesn't really capture the weight of all the rock around you, the dim light, or the uneven stairs.

Modernish wood floors were put in at every level for people to walk on, but they squeaked and didn't quite match the walls, which made me quite nervous. The third floor had a small room set off from the stairs that had interesting vaulting and decoration in the ceiling that was unexpected to me because of the early date of the building.  The gentleman in the picture was part of the group, but I don't know his name.

You can still see some of the paint and plaster on the ceiling.

Once at the top, you get a really good view of the surrounding countryside.

The yellowish fields in the background of this picture are actually a beautiful, vibrant color up close.  The distance and grey day make that difficult to see.  Apparently, in this part of the country large fields are planted with this.  It's rapeseed.  I don't know either.

While I was looking around at the vistas, I passed this feature about the same time as a woman and her grandchildren.  A girl of about ten asked what it was for, and grandma said it was where they put the kids when they were misbehaving.  Some things never change I guess.

The castle walls are very interesting.  Occasionally, a red stone is incorporated, and you can still see the whitewash that was used to make the whole building white and very noticeable from a distance.

The whole thing was very interesting and great to walk around on.  But English Heritage, the organization that preserves historic sites, has no sense of adventure:

Just because some of them look like this -

We only had about an hour and a half to walk around the grounds, see the castle, and go through the small visitor's center before we had to move on.  It was a very nice first tourist place for me, though.