The city of York

Having recovered from our Baron Hill House exploration we woke early and said our goodbyes to "The Smithy" and headed down to our little country bus stop.

We managed to load all of our luggage onto the commuter bus and sat back and watched the Welsh countryside roll by outside our window as we made our way back into Bangor and the train depot.

Luggage, "Can't live with it, Can't live without it". Yeah, we know, we could ALWAYS pack lighter, but just you try heading out on a six week trip and see what you end up with. We're NOT teenagers hitchhiking through Europe for goodness sake! WE HAVE NEEDS!

After about a twenty minute wait we boarded our train heading towards York, England and spent the next three hours playing the fun and exciting game called "let's haul our luggage on and off trains and hope we catch the next correct transfer to York"! It's a REALLY fun game and we'd highly recommend it. Once again that's the difference between traveling on East/West routes like we were today and North/South routes. It's almost impossible to find a direct route.

We finally, through the grace of God, ended up in York and after a half a mile or so walk in close to freezing weather with winds that felt like they were blowing down off a glacier somewhere, (by far the coldest winds we had encountered since arriving in the UK) we rounded a corner and there was our little home for the next four days, "The upside down house" on Bishy Road.

The upside down house was named by the man we rented it from on VRBO because the bedrooms and bathroom are on the first floor and the living room and kitchen upstairs. It's a cute little apartment right above a flower shop on a street with a number of specialty shops and cafes located just outside the original city walls of York's venerable old town.

We met the owner who was waiting for us to arrive and after he gave us a quick tour of the apartment he gave us the keys and left. We got all of our luggage stowed away and after sitting a spell to recuperate from the day's journey we headed outside to have a quick look around, visit the little Sainsbury Grocery store we noticed was just down the street from us and to find someplace to eat as it was already close to five and we were starving.

We found a little Thai restaurant just across the street from our apartment and although it took like an hour to get our food (even though people were sitting around eating who came in after us...who knows?) we were actually served a REALLY good Thai meal. It was frustrating that on one hand the service SUCKED so bad, but that on the other hand the food was SO good. I guess in the end it equaled out. We left the restaurant to little snow flakes drifting about. Nothing serious or anything but a reminder that the weather was taking a turn. We stopped by the local grocery store and bought some much needed supplies and headed home exhausted. We turned in early and saved our energy for the next day.

The next morning we felt much stronger and capable of heading into York for a day of sightseeing. We followed the original city wall towards the city center and although it was much colder than we had been used to we had bundled up and we were feeling quite warm.

We crossed over a river and walked past a couple of amazing buildings and there on a hill in front of us was York Castle.

York Castle, commonly referred to as Clifford's Tower is a really old castle by English Castle standards. Built on a site where an original Motte and Bailey fortification stood, the castle was reinforced with stone in 1068 after York was conquered by the Normans.

The daffodils were in full bloom and almost completely covered the grass covered mound on which the castle sat.

We continued on towards the city center and stopped off at a little bakery to get a couple of cups of coffee and a treat. The baked goods looked amazing, unfortunately they looked MUCH better than they actually were. They say you "eat with your eyes", but we kind of like our food to taste good too. Oh well. it sure was pretty.

We finally arrived at the Shambles, probably the oldest surviving array of medieval Streets in the United Kingdom, lined with overhanging with original timber-framed buildings, some dating back as far as the fourteenth century.

This was a Friday and the amount of tourists poking around the store fronts and aimlessly checking their iPhones was somewhat of a culture shock after the peace and privacy of Northern Wales.

The Little Shambles was originally known as the "Flesh Shambles", owning to the fact that this was the the butcher district of York and as recently as 1872 still had over twenty-five butchers' shops still located along the street.Non of the original butcher shops remains and the Shambles is now a tourist heavy pedestrian only district lined with shops, cafes and galleries.

Anyway, after the initial culture shock wore off it was interesting to look at some of the businesses. They actually had some pretty interesting shops for such a touristy destination. I even found a butcher and fish monger which I'm always a sucker for.

Now the difference between York and the other places we had visited up to this point is how touristy it seemed. It's not that it didn't have beautiful original buildings and a rich history, it's flush with those, but the difference is how authentic London, Oxford and Wales felt as compared to York.

York seemed set up to cater to weekend vacationers looking for fudge, fish and chips, and "I Love York" postcards. It had a very coney island feel to it and it's a shame, because York has so much to offer without all of the touristy trappings. With that said we adjusted to the feel of the place and started to settle in and go with the flow.

We explored the convoluted streets of York which are set up in such a way in European Medieval cities in order to confuse an enemy attempting to invade, causing confusion and helping to funnel the opposing troops into easily defensible positions.

We had gotten parched and hungry with all of that walking so we ducked into a little cafe for lunch.

We asked the waiter for a couple of "cold" beers, having given up on trying to adapt to the English tradition of drinking Ale at room temperature. We tried to embrace it, but in the end just couldn't learn to love beer that tasted as if it had been poured into a glass and left to sit out all evening. He brought us a couple of cans of the local York Brewing Companies triple hop ale and when Jerani attempted to open the can to pour it into her frosted glass the beer spewed foam all over the table. Not to be deterred, David decided to move even slower after opening his can, having learned nothing from Jerani's first go-around and by now the surface of our table was covered in ale. Napkins were quickly brought into play and soon we had a sopping glob of soiled paper products mounded in the center of our table. I'm sure we were quite the little spectacle in the pub. "Look mom, some Americans are spilling beer all over their table!" We're pretty sure the moral of this story is, if you ask an English waiter for a "COLD" beer, force him to open the cans!

After what turned out to be a fairly pedestrian lunch we headed over to an open air market and walked among the stalls marveling at the low prices of some of the wares. We then headed over towards the York Minster, the largest Gothic Cathedral in Northern Europe.

It is an absolutely AWE inspiring sight and it is just mind boggling to think that it's construction was started in 1338 and completed in 1408. Just unbelievable architecture during the height of the Dark Ages.

On top of being a castle geek I'm also a cathedral geek. I can't seem to stop myself from peeking into EVERY church and cathedral we pass on our journey, and believe me, there are a LOT of religious buildings in Europe! Don't ask me why I have a need to see these buildings, being that by my own admission I am not the most religious man who ever walked the earth. A fact that was quickly proven when my first response upon turning a corner and seeing the cathedral for the first time was to blurt out "JESUS CHRIST!!!" for everyone to hear within like forty foot radius. Ah, Americans!!! Jerani followed up shortly after with her own "Jesus Christ" from the other side of the building. Not sure why we found ourselves swearing so inappropriately whenever we found ourselves near that cathedral. It was so embarrassing but we had no control. So weird.

It was pretty grey out and not conducive to great photos, so we decided to come back on a Monday to visit the cathedral when the weather was suppose to clear and the crowds wouldn't be so large. We were winding down and so we headed back to our apartment to relax for a quality evening of British Television. Our favorites are the Reality 911 Shows and following the cops around on their patrols.

Baron Hill House: Exploring the ruin of a once magnificent estate

When we first started researching our trip to the UK back in the fall of 2016 we kept coming up with references to the "Baron Hill House" while looking up things to do on the Isle of Anglesey in Northern Wales. Baron Hill House was once owned by the Bulkeley family and was established in 1618. The Bulkeley's were the dominant landowners in West Gwynedd on Anglesey and the family had the original 1618 mansion rebuilt in 1776 following the popular Neo-Palladian style of the period which is made obvious from the curved facade of the building to the terraces, follies and balconies.

Along with the grand mansion there was a guest lodge, a gate house, an ice house, stables, fountains and beautiful gardens on the sprawling estate. During the early 1900's most of the family fortune was lost and after a fire damaged part of the house they could no longer afford to keep it running and it fell into disrepair and was finally abandoned. Baron Hill house was truly one of the grandest and most lavish estates to ever be constructed in Wales, and what is so remarkable about the ruins of this once glorious home and grounds is that the structures were never demolished and that the property and woods were never developed but remain largely undisturbed over all these many years.

The tract we followed. Just to set the mood, these are REALLY creepy woods. Right out of the Legend of Sleepy Hollow.

After a little sleuthing it became apparent that Baron Hill House just happened to lie within walking distance of The Smithy, so we decided that we couldn't leave Wales without checking it out. Working with satellite images of the area we were able to pinpoint what we thought might be a trail leading onto the not-so-public grounds. We packed a backpack with some snacks and on a cold gray morning set out in search of the derelict mansion.

A two hundred year old mile marker along the old roadbed that led into Baron Hill House

After a half a mile or so walk down the old coach road we entered pretty thick wood, overgrown with a snarl of now wild rhododendron bushes that marked the boundary of the estate. The woods were quite spooky, and seemed ancient and watchful. It really was a little unnerving.

We were quite happy that it hadn't rained in two days because the little path we were following was
getting muddier by the minute. After ducking under branches, and stepping over logs we rounded a corner and caught our first glimpse of the mansion.

The size of the ruins is just unbelievable. Nothing really prepares you for just how BIG this mansion  was. We have both lived and worked on large estates in the past and they pale in comparison. This was wealth on a whole different scale.

We started working our way around the north side of the building, towards the front of the manor.
The path was slick with mud as we followed an old walkway with stepping stones tilted at jaunty angles by the roots of runaway trees.

Once we made it to the other side the underbrush opened up a little and we were able to get our first view into the interior of the house. The overgrown brambles and bushes that surround the mansion must be almost impenetrable in the summer so we felt pretty lucky to be exploring the area in the early spring.

Anyone who has ever explored abandoned homes knows the feeling you get when you stand inside a structure that someone used to call home.

Part of the Grand Staircase

It's kind of a mixture of reverence and the feeling that you are definitely an interloper. You tend to talk in hushed tones as if you are in a library or church and it's really hard to shake that feeling that you are being watched.

To say that the inside of Baron Hill House is unsafe is a pretty dramatic understatement. 

It looks like an accident just waiting to happen so we tried to use as much common sense as possible in determining what parts of the mansion were safe and which parts to stay away from.

 Everywhere you looked there was something to see. 

 A huge tree erupting from what was once a stately planter. A intricate tiled terrace now shattered and in disarray. Vines and creepers enveloping a ornate waterspout. Unidentified lumps hidden under foliage dotted the surrounding grounds.

 The building just goes on and on and on. It seems endless. 

At some points the walls of the structure continued so far without a break that the only way to get from one side of the building to the other was to find one of the hundreds of doors that was unblocked by rubble or plant life and creep through the frighteningly unstable interior to an exit door on the other side.

 Once through to the other side you could clearly see the carriage entrance and the grand pillars.

 We explored the the building in this way, moving back and forth between the different sides.

By this time the sucking mud was starting to pull at our shoes and dirt and mossy green residue blanketed our clothes. We looked like a couple of explorers just emerging from a lost Inca city.

Once again we can't emphasize just how big of an area this estate covers. We literally explored the area for over four hours.

There were times when we became utterly confused and turned around, finding our path blocked by a fallen wall or having to veer off because of a twelve foot wall that doubled back on itself like a maze.

 You think you must be past the main structure of the manor when you turn a corner and there's another entirely new wing!

We have to admit, we were having great time exploring these ruins. There's something fascinating about abandoned sites and this was a colossal abandoned site. We kept walking and poking around and it just continued on and on.

This is us taking a uncharacteristic selfie we were SO happy!

We only brought 2 roundees* (energy balls) and a couple of fig newtons with us and our blood sugar levels were dangerously low so we had a lovely picnic, sitting on a couple of ancient slate pavers next to a crumbling mansion. Satiated after our 200 calorie break we continued on our impromptu tour.

By this point our shoes were caked with mud, we had lichen and moss caught in our hair but we couldn't have been happier! We started working our way down towards what must have been the stables and when we were poking around the horse stalls we were befriended by a really bold little bird.

He or she (We think it was a "he" because of the vivid coloring) was delightfully tame and hopped right up next to us and Jerani fed him/her a little bit of the last fig bar we had in reserve. He happily gobbled it down and we watched our new found friend for another five minutes or so before continuing on.

 

We found ourselves following a series of convoluted walls which led us down through what must have been the gardens.

What are these structures? There were at least 20 or so between the main road and the house.

By now we were both beginning to drag and we decided that we didn't want to head back home the way we had come so we headed towards Beaumaris, to what our initial research on Baron Hill Manor had described as an easier route off the property.

As we walked through woods that you just KNEW were haunted after nightfall, towards the sound of traffic far off in the distance, we kept coming across these low bunker like structures  that we decided must have been green houses. I mean they were scattered everywhere.

Off through the woods in every direction you could see other small buildings and fallen walls covered in vines, and we had to be a quarter mile from the main part of the manor. This estate must have been enormous, but by this time we were too worn out to follow up on any of the new discoveries. We knew that even when we followed the path back to Beaumaris we'd still have a good 3/4 mile hike home so we trudged on.

The size of this tree was incredible. You could see where it had lived through a fire. The bark was weirdly spongy and hollow sounding.

A silly goose of a pheasant. They are not very smart. We followed this one for awhile til he finally ran off into the woods.

We finally emerged right next to a road that we recognized from our bus rides to and from town. The thing we didn't notice when riding the bus was the eight foot stone wall that we were now standing at the edge of looking at the traffic below as it roared by. Hmmm... No way down here. We (I/David) decided that if we followed the trail towards town that at some point we could get past the wall. Fast forward about a half mile and twenty minutes into the future and we were both standing and looking up at a eight foot wall. The path led exactly to this point, never leading out of the haunted woods, but always hemmed in by an ancient eight foot wall on one side and a barbed wire sheep fence on the other. And yes if we HAD to get over it we could. Like if being chased by wolves or vampires, but we would've probably broken something and scritched up our clothes.

Hunger, mud, frustration and weariness was starting to turn us against one another, and it didn't help that it was looking like we were going to have to retrace our steps through a muddy maze of debris, and to top things off it seemed to be getting prematurely dark in the haunted woods we didn't seem to find a way out of. To make matters worse we ran across a fallen tree in the woods, but not just ANY tree, the creepiest tree that ever grew. (We later found out on the internet that this tree was called the "tree of souls", great huh?)

We still had miles to walk through ankle deep mud so as cheery as the tortured tree was we decided to continue on.

We wound our way back through the rubble, getting a little lost and having a somewhat harder time than we had imagined retracing our steps.

We found different things on the way back through. Like this old bathroom hidden around a lost corner.

We finally turned a corner and low and behold we had made it back to the Manor. Yippee!
Dog tired we trudged on through the stickers and mud and finally emerged from the woods.

We were completely toast, and on top of that tonight was our last evening in Wales and we had to pack (YUCK!!!) It had also started to rain, and what was first a fine mist had turned into a deluge. So muddy, soaked and exhausted we stumbled back towards the Smithy and to a joyous evening of suitcase stuffing.Here's a pick in a mirror on the golf course.

When we got home we never sat down until we had cleaned out boots with hot soap and water, sponged off our coats which had green moss dust all over. That stuff doesn't come off very well. Then David sat down and I fried up the bacon and eggs we had left and couldn't even cook them properly. I basically stirred the bacon around in a pot then dumped the eggs in and stirred it around until they set and then poured it over a croissant. Served it to David and he didn't seem to notice my lack of technique!! After eating we sat for hours before we could move again! We managed to clean the house up and pack but it was a great effort. So worth it!