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A fishing weir at Tynemouth, near Newcastle

York is about two hours south of Newscastle-upon-Tyne, where our ship docked. The motorway runs through rolling hills which made me feel very much at home as the scenery is so similar to that of our Piedmont region. York itself, however, is like nothing we have in the States. For one thing, we have no Roman remnants to speak of.


Roman sarcophagi, found during excavations, have been repurposed as garden ornamentation in a small park just outside the ancient city walls.

To the left, the lower courses of this tower and wall (set off by the line of red brickwork) are of Roman construction.

These fragments of ancient roof-tiles bear the imprints of sandals and the hobnailed boots of Roman soldiers.


Ruins of medieval St. Mary's Abbey

Half-timbered buildings loom over a narrow, medieval street in The Shambles.



The York Minster

Light filters through the splendid stainglass of the York Minster.


The pursuit of the sublime need not preclude earthly comforts -- or humour. This sign was on the door of a tea-room along Gillygate.




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