CRUMPETS, PLEASE

Last time I visited England, it was plonk in the middle of winter for my sister Rebecca's wedding; maybe it was something to do with the knee length silk bridesmaids dress that I was wearing, but the main thing I remember about the holiday (aside from the actual wedding, obviously) is how freezing cold it was. Two and a half years on and I'm dealing with the other end of the spectrum living in the blazing dry heat of Las Vegas. Respite from the summer sun seemed mandatory, and since Ryan would be busy preparing for finals and we wouldn't see much of him anyway, a summer holiday visiting family in England presented itself as the perfect remedy for exam blues (Ryan doesn't get them, I do.) and perpetual sunburn.

One of the first things we did was visit York. I loved shopping there on the weekends when I was in High School, munching yum-yums and sausage rolls as we went. I love how new buildings are threaded around truly ancient ones. I love how locals take to their bikes and cycle along narrow winding roads alongside double decker buses and lorries, and wonder that their faces are never panic stricken.



We are right in the centre of the city on a cobbled street called The Shambles. It feels so otherworldly with wonky buildings that overhang the street precariously; you feel like you should be able to hear the timbers that support them creaking. Turn the corner and you step forward in time 1000 years, and you find Topshop, and Shoe shops, and even a Starbucks on the corner.




York Cathedral seems to be in a constant state of restoration (not surprising as it's been around since the twelfth century) and I think this is the first time I have seen it without some measure of the building being enclosed by scaffolding. I've always thought the sight of the Minster to be impressive, but there is something about living somewhere that is comparatively so new that makes you see a building like that in a different light. No wonder it was such a prestigious position to be Archbishop of York. Maybe it's living somewhere different, maybe it's getting old, but I find it pretty incredible that the Cathedral has survived the looting that came with the reformation, the iconoclasm that followed (Thank you Tudors), and continued strikes from lightenting. All of that aside, Charlotte had a whale of a time shouting her usually quiet babbles and listening to her little voice echo off the walls. She has fun wherever she goes.

We had only just arrived, and as you can tell from the hoodies and coats, we were definitely adjusting to the English summer. Apparently, I can't tolerate cold weather anymore, but I really don't like scorching hot weather either. What's a girl to do?