In yorkshire, i stayed in a place called Thirsk, which i just happened to find where the most affordable bed-and-breakfast was. Turns out James Herriot lived there and they turned the house he actually lived in into a museum and some of the real furniture was donated by the family, and i expected to be a small house, and it wasn't. it was a whole huge complex with multiple floors and a film and a stable and chickens and ii spent at least two hours in it and that was going through the house really quickly. I actually regret flashing through the house because i didn't get to absorb any of it except that it was a beautiful house.
The day after that, i went to swinton castle and traipsed around the grounds of the castle that may or may not have belonged to our family. according to wiki, apparently, the castle i visited was founded in the 1600s? But swinton castle belonged to my family in the 1050s? i saw a portrait of a viscountess swinton in the sitting room. The grounds were so huge i couldn't see all of them realistically. the castle itself was very fancy and each of the rooms were named after surrounding villages. there was a small bit with owls and i am sorry but i am so fucking sick of animals in tiny cages. it will never feel okay. ever.
the third day i went to scarborough on a whim (over leeds and liverpool) and on my way out of thirsk, i stopped when i saw there was a paring lot on the side of the road and a sign that said "view". And hey, that's really all i need to know. The day was rainy and hazy so i didn't bother with my SLR, but i had my trusty pocketshooter with me. Which, honestly, i should probably name. I might go with silver. as in, i am the lone ranger. and hi ho silver! My SLR's name is Vera. Yes. I am that infantile, thank you!
It would've been a view that made me cry, had it been clear enough to see.
I made it up to the castle, and took pictures of the coast, and sat in a graveyard that happened to have Ann(e?) Bronte tossed in. She's the bronte no one talks about. Despite her being on all the signs, half of her name had fallen off the headstone. I sat for a while and talked to a man who was drinking in the graveyard, and he was a very nice man. he admired me for travelling and seemed to admire me more after i told the story about how even though i despise beer, i have out-chugged a hipster just to shut them up. (it's the little victories in life. honestly.) and he was actually very respectful, aside from cussing (which doesn't bother me.) and even chided a girl who littered. He was very specific about keeping his own rubbish to himself.
He told me about Whitby Abbey which was apparently Brahm Stoker's inspiration for Dracula. SO i asked him if he really though it was worth it to see, and he said "i reckon so" and so i said "well all right, then. I'll go now, so i don't lose the light. It was really nice to meet you!" And i shook his hand and left and i have to say, it was wonderful. It was completely worth it. One girl near whitby abbey randomly came up to me and spend about 45 minutes walking around with me while i took pictures, just chatting at me.
now, through 3 nights i barely slept and my back was sore the entire time. i almost didn't go out the third day, i couldn't make myself try going up the turret at swinton, and the floor of the hostel-type place i stayed at somehow had cracked flooring that when you stepped on it, water oozed out.
the flight back to krakow was four hours earlier than i thought- it was a good thing that i randomly checked the papers hanging out in my bag. Otherwise i would've missed my flight.
i'm sorry it's been so long since i've blogged. there's two things at play. i'm genuinely busy, and i hate that my trip is coming to a close. this who time has flown by and i don't want to go. I hate facing the fact that i won't be here anymore. I don't know how it is that i can simultaneously love where i am and want so badly to go home and be with my family, and they're equal desires. All the fear and apprehension i felt before coming here and the uncertainty and nerves have now been transferred to going back home. It's been some goddamned shakespearean stolen season here and now i have to go home and face reality.
I'm leaving for athens in two days and in the second weekend in june, i will be going to romania.
i had vegemite today.
No comments:
Post a Comment