The clock tipped over to 4pm as the train pulled into York Station, and the sun was well and truly getting cosy in bed. From the glass dome above the rails the sky still had a glimmer of light left in it, so I rushed out towards the bag hold under the station (for those needing a place to store bags at York Station, turn right as you exit the main doors, away from the centre of town, and down the first set of steps you see!). A few quid later and I was racing towards the high street.
Some shopping was in order after a long weekend in Whitby but if there was one thing my January trip to this medieval town reminded me was to head straight to the Minster first. A month beforehand, the town had been riddled with floods (which I had carelessly stepped into with my Hunters) but this evening it was dry and York had the chance to impress me without an umbrella blocking half of my view!
A quick trip to M&S and some sushi was secured for dinner, quickly scarfed down before a foray into the shops. By some miracle, 8pm arrived quicker than expected, but even as I half-jogged to the station, the majesty of such a sandstone-drenched town was not lost. From the bridge I had stood upon just days before my exchange at Lancs started, to passing the baby castle heritage site, York continually drew my eye. Before long, though, my adventure even further up north than Lancaster had drawn to a close and I was back again in a place that was increasingly becoming like home… xx