In Which We Mooch Accomodation Time and Time Again

No pictures for this leg of the trip unfortunately, as we had only one camera and Paul still has it.

Stayed with my great Aunt Anne (Iain's Mum) in the wops of Surrey for what was supposed to be one day, but turned into two due to trains and accomodation failing us. Aunty Anne was generally lovely and she filled me in about the side of the family that I didn't know much about. Although there was one occasion that frustrated me - when she wondered how women could play rugby, since they wouldn't be nearly as good at it as men:
How could they kick the ball over the goal?
Grrr...feminist rage.

Found a coach to Newcastle for £31.20 - great because the trains would have cost at least £118. Each. It only took two hours longer as well. Grabbed a cab out to a church in Fenham, where we were to meet our new host - one of Mum's friends from work, Helen - and I had one of my first experiences of listening to someone speaking English but not understanding what they were saying due to their accent. Helen is Scottish and she tried to direct me to:
St. James' and St. Basil's Church, Fenham
Which I heard as:
St. James' and St. Bethel's Church, Senham
Not too bad, but still.

We (Paul, Helen, Helen's two girls Holly and Megan, and myself) went out to a section of Hadrian's wall. The weather was appropriately fierce - cold and windy - and naturally I felt quite at home. Wellington, I miss you! We scaled a rocky crag that overlooked a small lake, atop which we cold see right to the horizon on all sides. The wind made the experience all the more exciting - standing atop a cliff with nothing to stop you from falling, and a wind that tries to be doing just that! We visited the remains of a roman fort - which some guys were still digging up. They said we could ask them questions and Holy asked, quite cheerfully, "Found anything yet?" The workers looked at each other, shrugged and said quietly, "Not today." That must be frustrating work.

Went to York on a day trip from Newcastle - home of my father and his family. Paul told me a story about him, that says that he was so much of a Yorkshire man that he refused to wear a red rose in his suit at his wedding to my mum because red roses were the colour of the House of Lancaster during the War of the Roses. He wore a white rose instead.

York is lovely. You can follow the old city walls right around the city. There is a minster dominating the skyline in the centre of the old town, complete with elderly gentleman playing harmonious, gentle music outside. Further on, one finds oneself in "The Shambles", a series of interconnected, winding roads that are still cobbled. They have the typical English sweet shops here too, the kinds with sweets in jars which you buy by weight. The weather is fine, with a crisp breeze and only a bit of cloud, but warm in general. I quite like it here. It is peaceful and perhaps even familiar. I may even pick up a Beano.

I didn't get a Beano, but I did come away with ginger fudge (woot)! The day continued with a viking museum and a trip up to Clifford's Tower. We also had English curry (so good) and home baked fish and chips. Staying with Helen was wonderful and leaving was such a pity. But off to bigger and better things.

Next stop: Scotland!