York. The next part.

 Betty's Tea rooms! I loved to sit in the window here and have a cup of coffee and a fat rascal whilst watching the people crossing the square to the shops and bars...This is THE Betty's.....it makes the others pale a lot. Even the Ilkley one which I love Check out the window display....every week. That is as far as I get with Betty's now. I look only. Lee and I did get taken for tea and a fat rascal at the one in Harrogate. We waited in the cue to be seated by a maitradee ...this Lee took quite well until he saw the prices on the menus. The chances of me going to the Betty's in York this day are below nil if there is such a thing.....
 This little guy was just on the pavement outside Betty's tea rooms, I take it that there was a human involved somewhere here but they were having a break. Cute though.

 These old pillars and Gargoyles are just on the way around......I remember them from years ago...I can not remember what or why they are here. ...Take it that they are Roman shall we?
When I started to come to York on the way back from Whitby, I lived in Bath at that time and life was very different. We always stayed a couple of days and toured the pubs, museums and shops. Dutton's for Buttons was a must in those days.....On the drive into York we came past all the bed and Breakfast hotels....I remembered that is must be about 30 years ago! the "we" I am talking about would be me and my Ex husband. Mr Ex did not like Yorkshire much. He did not like Whitby or my Grandma . So to spend as little time as possible here ....I would come up by train and he would cycle from Bath to Whitby...it would take about three days. My Grandma did not like him back just for the record...she only had him stay because I was with him. She never liked him and told me "always mistrust a man with a beard. he is hiding" ....she would tell me. how right she turned out to be.

 Some rather lovely gargoyles....

 And kings....it is in fact St. Martin Le Grand,, Coney Street York and it is what remains after the church was bombed in the war..... So not Roman!!!

 We came to this wonky house just by the market and I knew the Shambles were not far away. This wonky house was one of my land marks...when I can find it.

 The Shambles were not at all as I remembered or how I wished to see them. They were heaving with people all trying to take pictures on their mobile phones. I think I was the only one with a camera....that would be a camera that only does one thing....take photos. Most cameras now seem to have multiple uses. some I suspect make toast as well. Modern times were well and truly out and about this day and everyone of them wanted to take photos in the middle of the street. No one was looking! everyone walked into each other and did not notice because they were looking into their view finders....funny but sad at the same time.

 Therefore I could not get any really good photos as I got fed up with being pushed and jostled.

 As you see it is a very stuffed street. So with relief I dived into the Margaret Clitherow shrine....

 This was dark and empty. Fabulous!.....Margaret Clitherow was a Martyr from 1586 from the Catholic church and is known as "the pearl of York". She was canonised as late as 1970. so even in death it was a slow process.

Margaret Clitherow  (nee MIDDLETON)  Her father was a respected businessman and Sheriff of York. She Married John Clitherow a wealthy butcher and chamberlain of the city in 1571 and they had three children. They lived in the Shambles.

 She converted to Catholicism in 1574. Her husband remained part of the established church at the times. His brother however was a Catholic priest.....he paid her fines for not attending church services. she was first imprisoned in 1577 for not attending church.....yes it was like that in those days.....she was imprisoned in York castle and her third child was born in prison.
Margaret risked her own life and that of her family by harbouring Catholic priests in her house in two secret chambers one in the ajioning house. She also rented another house not far away where priests were hidden and mass celebrated. Her house became THE place if you were a Catholic in the North.The Black Swan on Peasholm Green was another of her hiding holes and there is to this day a passage running from the old pub to the church. I know I have seen it. The Black Swan was my absolute fave place to stay when I came to York. The landlord showed me the passage one quiet afternoon, when I was sitting at the bar drinking wine....the conversation turned to ghosts and secret passages. The room I liked to stay in was Tudor and still had all of it's panelling.....next door to all the Elizabethan carvings and tapestry's......
Margaret Clitherow was executed in 1586 even though she was pregnant with her fourth child. The Sergeants who were supposed to carry out her execution hired beggars instead as they did not want to do the deed. Margaret was stripped, blind floaded and then laid across a sharp rock where the door from her own house was put on top of her with rocks until her back broke and she was suffocated.

Margaret Clitheroe

by Gerard Manley Hopkins

1

God's counsel columnar-severe┬░

But chaptered in the chief of bliss┬░

Had always doomed her down to this —

Pressed to death . He plants the year;

The weighty weeks without hands grow,

Heaved drum on drum; but hands also

Must deal with Margaret Clitheroe.

2

The very victim would prepare.

Like water soon to be sucked in

Will crisp itself or settle and spin┬░

So she: one sees that here and there

She mends the way she means to go.

The last thing Margaret's fingers sew

Is a shroud for Margaret Clitheroe.

3

The Christ-ed beauty of her mind

Her mould of features mated well.

She was admired. The spirit of hell

Being to her virtue clinching-blind┬░

No wonder therefore was not slow

To the bargain of its hate to throw

The body of Margaret Clitheroe.

Fawning fawning crocodiles

Days and days came round about

With tears to put her candle out;

They wound their winch of wicked smiles

To take her; while their tongues would go

God lighten your dark heart — but no,┬░

Christ lived in Margaret Clitheroe.

She caught the crying of those Three,

The Immortals of the eternal ring,

The Utterer, Uttered, Uttering,┬░

And witness in her place would she.

She not considered whether or no

She pleased the Queen and Council. So

To the death with Margaret..........

It goes on a bit. But there you get the gist.

 So we left the quiet of Margaret's place and headed back into the throngs of people. I spotted this window....

 We came out at the bottom of the Shambles and Spotted a Gregs! LUNCH!!!! also I spotted The Golden Fleece pub. I have stayed here as well. It is propagated to be the most haunted place in York.

 Now the ghost part about this building I wouldn't know about as I take all this stuff and listen to the stories but never really believe in ghosts. I have seen them. I still remain a nonbeliever......This was one of my fave drinking pubs. I loved to sit at the bar and drink wine. I have heard most of the stories about this place as a consequence.....It dates back to the early 16th century and was built without foundations as we build today and has over time sunk and wonked. So walking on the floors is an experience sober. When drunk...which I usually was in those days I would not notice!
So Lee went into Greggs to buy us come chicken pasties for lunch and I took some photos of the Golden Fleece.
This pub has been the subject of much paranormal investigation and ghost hunts over the years. Perfect place for it. The atmosphere and wonky building, creeking floors and dodgy plumbing set the scene brilliantly...not to mention the odd light in the bar room......

 So with our pasties still hot in their paper bag we headed past this old chapel .....

 The yard at the back of the Fleece and down to.....

 Church of all saints, the Pavement, York. There is a small garden with benches next to this church and we ate our pasties before going inside here......

 This building dates from the 14th century. There has been a church on this site for much longer than the 14th century.....

 The beautiful Glass is the passion and resurrection of Christ.....

 We only had a quick look....then headed off towards The Jorvik centre....

We sat and finally looked at the map i brought and decided that we had better start back to the car. a lot of time has gone very quickly.
that is enough for this part of the blog. It is Wednesday now and the second day of my holiday. The sun is out and it is getting hot. Today......I am Supervising the start of the Fenix car restoration. Today we put together the engine hoist and stand,,,,and it begins.
Yes I know it was February I bought the Fenix, Vauxhall Frontera with knackered engine........