An Interesting Time in Old York

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So, to begin, dinner was an interesting affair. We went to a pub called Lowthier. I have no idea in hell what this means, but it was a very good time. The meal was interesting to say the least. I believe what we had was lamb, but I could be wrong. It looked like turkey and tasted like beef, so I will assume that it was lamb. There were some assorted vegetables, some potatoes, mashed potatoes, and a bread substance. I have never in my life seen so many colors on a plate with so few different flavors. Everything tasted very much the same, and thanks to the gravy, that flavor was pleasant.

During our meal I looked out the window of the pub to find another wonderfully named place to add to my collection. Joining “Cockfosters,” “The Cock and Camel,” is “The Cock and Bottle. I am aware that the word is referring to a rooster, but I still must find amusement in it, as I am positively Freshmonic in my sense of humor.

Now after dinner we were given the chance to enjoy a ghost walking tour of “The Most Haunted City in England.” It turns out that, for those who believe in ghosts, the appearance of a ghost is tied to a violent death of an individual tied to a specific place. So, as it turns out, being so haunted means that there were several very horrific deaths in that city. We were told about some of them, and I suddenly became very glad to not have been in York a few centuries back, as they reserved some horrific shit for Catholics. The tour was not as creepy as it sounds. First off, it stays light out until about 11:00 at night here, so it was very bright out, and ghost stories lose something during the daytime (however horrific tales of child torture and murder, men being drawn and quartered, and women being pressed to death are disturbing no matter what the illumination). Second, the “tour” consisted of walking to a few locations where our host, Clive, would tell stories in a very professoric manner. It was by no means a bad thing, it was actually rather informative, but a little on the dry side.

We were also afforded the opportunity to make many people rather uncomfortable during the tour. As we were in one of York’s many back alley shortcut walkways, and were being told a story of a man murdering a prostitute, then killing himself years later in the same location only to return as a ghost and terrorize decent women crossing through the alley way, we were frequently interrupted by groups of the local citizenry making their way about a lovely Friday night. After the third such group, someone with us (give you a shot at guessing who) began a slow clap and a raucous cheering of each person who passed by. All in all, good times.

Our night ended at York’s “Reflex 80’s Bar,” which is, as you might have guessed, an 80’s themed dance club in York, just down from our hotel. Interesting thing about people in the UK, not only do they dress up in costumes with wigs and props to go to a club, they also sing along quite vehemently with every song. This added to the enjoyment of the evening. Also, the drinks were dirt cheap, so we all got right pissed (which lead to us leaving one of our warriors in York, but more on that later.).

After the club closed, myself and some of the more senior tour members hit up a late night chip shop and hung out in my room shooting the shit until about 4:30, before crashing and getting up for a 7:30 breakfast and 8:15 departure.

Gotta say, thus far, York has been my favorite place.

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Comments

[Julie]

Brits dressing for the clubs
Ain't it a riot to see them dressed up like that? I told you about the country bar in Glasgow. If you have a free night in Glasgow, GO TO A COUNTRY BAR! They, no shit, wear plastic guns and chaps and big ass "10 gallon" hats. It's a fucking riot.