Day 2: Saturday 4th July 2015

Saturday.

02:30.

There was an almighty bang and flash, as a bolt of lightning landed less than a mile from the hotel. Or so it seemed. We were both awake. The storm continued for another two hours, the lightning so bright, at times I could see the blood vessels in my eyelids as I tried to sleep. But we did go back to sleep, as the storm banged on, but got fainter and fainter.

07:30

We woke up, and just half an hour to breakfast and I must make myself lovely. Jools makes me a cuppa to have in bed, before we dress and go down for a full cooked breakfast with fruit and toast and lots of coffee. Lovely stuff.

Our plane for the day was to explore the town, look in the cathedral, and see what was happening, maybe see the canal, go for a walk. The usual holiday exploring that folks do.

Outside, there was a light drizzle falling, that soon had us both damp, but we decide that if we follow the river at the bottom of the lower road, it should take us into the city centre. We pass rows of wonderful, well built houses, sport grounds, pubs and shops. It’s not unpleasant.

As we near the centre, I spy a barber, and they were open, with only a couple of people waiting, so I could have this bearskin on me heed mangled. I checked that no appointments were needed, Jools went out to find a bank as I waited. I felt a stone lighter, and ten degrees cooler with the mangling done. Well worth eleven of anyone’s pounds.

We walk into the centre, and up cobbled alleys to the cathedral, only to find a service about to begin. They are nice and tell us it will be open in a couple of hour’s time. We walk back along a cobbled alley and go into a tea room for coffee. And a scone, and only two hours since breakfast. It seems this relaxing business creates healthy appetites.

Down the hill to where we hope the canal would be, it took some finding, but this is because the canal ends at a wharf, and is now a quiet cul-de-sac, home to folks living the quiet life on their narrow boats. Sounds ideal to me. We sit on a bench, as the rain had now stopped, and the sun was burning off the clouds. In front of us, a guy was in the stern of his boat, doing a crossword, watching the world go by. He says good morning to us, but returns to 15 down.

I walk along the canal to get some more shots, then we both walk back to a pub we had seen, The Navigation, for a swifter and something to give us strength.

Back over the river, up the cobbled street to the front of the cathedral, where the bishop is being sung to by others in colourful robes. It all looks and sounds wonderful, and once the singing ends, the congregation files out and lingers in the courtyard, all in the finest clothes, chatting and smiling.

All very well, but when can we get into the cathedral?

We decide to walk through one of the side doors, and that seems to be fine, I pay three quid so I can take photos. And anyway, the cathedral is now fast emptying, so I can go and get my shots, which all seem to come out very well.

We walk back to the hotel to drop some stuff we had bought, on the way; Jools checks her phone and finds three missed calls and voicemails. Big stuff was happening. We feared the worst. Back in the cool of the room, Jools called her Dad, and indeed it was bad news, in that Nan had been rushed into hospital with a suspected stroke. There was panic about paperwork, DNRs and the such, all of which was at our house, and we were at the other end of the country.

We get it sorted, but as the day goes on the messages from the family seems to be that Nan did not have a stroke, and is better, chatting and complaining.

There is little we can do, other than carry on. We had met a guy at a craft supply shop, and he told us of a stately home nearby, with splendid gardens. Now, the other wonderful place near here is Fountains Abbey, but we had been there twice, so why not go somewhere different?

Indeed.

It was a short drive, and by now the sun was shining and so the day was very hot. So, the air con was out to max as we drove the 5 miles to the gardens.

The gardens were wonderful, and split into two, with an area for families with fountains, rides and a miniature railway, with the rest a huge ornamental garden. I did look at the train and wondered if we could go on, but I pass and we wander the gardens, pausing to pick up an ice cream each to lick as we wander the gardens.

An hour or so later, and we were hot enough to have seen enough. We walk back to the car, and drive back to the hotel, stopping of at a pub for a pint of cool beer and cider. The tennis played silently on the large TV, but Jools is on the phone to her brother as more details emerge about Nan: it seems the panic is over, and there is talk of her going back to the home in the morning, as she as no sitting up and eating.

Back to the hotel for a snooze, then out again in the evening on the search for dinner. We had hoped to go back to the same hotel we had the drink at late in the afternoon. Arriving at it, the car park was full. But we must be able to find somewhere else: we drive to the next village, find a place in car park, and take a table outside.

Yes, they can serve us, but there might be a wait. So, we have a drink and watch as the swallows and swifts duck and dive, fighting over the flying insects on the wing in the warmth of the evening. I have something called ‘a flavour of lamb’, a chop, a hock and a small portion of shepherd’s pie. It is lovely, along with crispy vegetables. Jools has fish pie, which is well fishy. She says it is good.

Jools drives up back to the hotel; we have showers, and take to the bed before ten, worn out with all the relaxing.