The Holiday

After E and I had scrubbed away and cleaned the entire kitchen at our friend's wedding venue we jumped back into the car and headed for her parents' house. Once we sorted out the direction we were going we left sharpish for the 4 hour drive that awaited us.

The drive itself was actually quite pleasant, the weather was stunning, sunny and warm but not so boiling that we were being roasted in the car.

Once we eventually found the cottage it was a bit later in the day so all that was left was some exploration of the cottage itself and to head to the local town to get some dinner.

The local town Howden was quaint, but because we were so hungry we decided to leave any exploration until Saturday and jumped back into the car after a visit to the Co-op.

After waiting what felt like a decade for the gas oven to heat itself up we put out food on whilst I started a fire. I don't think there's many better feelings than sitting in front of a fire and just pondering. Nothing beats a toasty thought process.

Environmentally friendly buildings are few and far between sadly, no human product is ever 100% 'environmentally friendly', but as far as houses go, the straw bale cottage was near as damn it. We assumed that the furniture was reclaimed wood, second hand and so on, whilst the walls were actually insulated in a very old school manner, the hay that lined the walls actually visible thanks to a little window into the wall cavities.

But as intriguing as the house itself was, sleep was calling us and so we went on our merry way upstairs after some wine because the next day we were hitting my favourite city – York.

So, after a solid nights sleep, coffee was brought to me in bed be E, which was awesome, and then we prepared for a long day.

Fortunately we didn't have to look too hard for things to do over the weekend as York was hosting both an antique book fair and cider festival within a 10 minute walk of each other. What a win.

However we wandered around the city beforehand, taking in the wonderful architecture of the cathedral, (which admittedly I'd never been two on my two previous occasions visiting), and the wonderful Minster Gate book shop.

This place was amazing; 6 stories of books, old and new, ranging from the hundreds of pounds to just a few the one I assume subsidising the other. Because the modern books were cheap I decided to have a look and see if anything would tickle my fancy and something certainly did. I found a copy of Cormack McCarthy's No Country for Old Men, a novel I'd always wanted to read based on my appreciation for The Road and also hearing that the film adaptation is meant to be stunning. It set me back a whole £4, which is great for a modern book in my opinion.

E of course bought a few books, (there's no entering a book shop with her without leaving with several things).

We then had a further wander, I showed E one of my favourite music shops and then went for some more coffee to help keep ourselves perky. A slice of cake may have been consumed in the process.

We knew that the book festival hadn't started quite yet and so we went for another wander along the city walls. The clarity that the weather allowed meant that we could see as far as the buildings would allow without blocking our line of sight. It really is a pretty city, retaining the archaic aesthetic whilst being quite clearly modern in its own right. I love it there.

So after our brief walk we then headed to where the free shuttle would take us to the two festivals. A few minutes of waiting, amongst older individuals who had grown douchey in their years, and we were on the shuttle for the short ten minute journey to the Racing track, where many events are hosted such as the York Tattoo convention.

After waiting a further ten minutes behind more oldies, who couldn't comprehend leaving their bags in the mandatory cloak room, we were in and awestruck with some of the editions that we found. Admittedly, we couldn't afford to buy such editions, or rather what would the point be?

Seeing the types of people selling and buying the books slightly angered me. Once you realised that the customers weren't buying the books for the enjoyment of owning an original piece of history because it had some profound effect on their place in the universe, or some relevance to their thoughts and feelings, or even some sort of deeper connection with the writer, it took away what makes literature so wonderful. Instead the books will probably sit in their relevant bookshops and become collectors pieces that were worth a lot of money, but not much else. A sad day for literature indeed.

Although it was a good experience, I don't think if I had all the money in the world I would have dealt with 90% of the snobs who were there, because that's what they were, snobs who looked down their nose at us because we were young, having no background to us or what we could have possibly been worth. It was honestly disgusting to think some of the best minds in existence in terms of literature were now being sold by people who didn't even seem interested in the books, even willing to talk about them let alone friendly.

Never mind.

After a bit of a let down, Ellie did find a few gems that were priced well and still relatively unique and so she snapped them up.

Once we battled our way through another gruelling incident with the cloak room to get our stuff back, we set off on foot to the beer and ale, (and cider), festival.

A short wander brought us to the entrance of the rather smelly interior, but the weather was still gorgeous and so went got our first half pints and snagged a seat outside.

This was a far more intellectual festival.

After several halves, a few thirds and a winning tombola effort, it was time to stagger back into town for something to eat. This time we opted for the walk rather than bus and given that the weather was pretty still spectacular it was a good shout.

Because E has never been to Jamie's we decided to eat there. Sadly the service was shoddy, the food mediocre and the time wasted pretty annoying. We waited the best part of an hour for our food, the chefs shouting for service frequently but going unheeded for long periods of time. Frankly I'm glad that tip wasn't included because I wasn't prepared to pay for it.

Sorry world, but tipping is bullshit. Pay your staff fairly.

But it wasn't so bad, we headed home for some more wine, more fire and also a re-watch of Lord of The Rings, which neither E or I had seen in years. What a fantastic film.

Saturday was our day reserved for not doing much at all, and so we did as little as possible.

However, we're an active couple so it didn't last long at all.

After a brisk 3 mile walk into town, and a few blisters later, we sat down for some lunch in a pub that was recommended by a local as the second venue we were looking at was for 'Hobos and drunkards'.

It was a close shave, but of you can't trust a doddery old guy wearing a sailors hat, who can you trust?

The food was great, the staff were lovely and the service was excellent. Bloody Jamie's...

After we had attached plasters and grabbed dinner, we took another brisk walk home. The afternoon was lovely, spent reading and being the host to one of the rare occasions that I napped during the day. An hour was spent comatose on the sofa after reading some more of The Purple Cloud, which was followed by more food and Shrek 2, just because it's a great film and we were having our welcome lazy day.

Sadly, this was our last night on our short weekend break and we high tailed it back home early on Sunday reaching my homestead quickly to drop stuff off but then hitting traffic on the A406 which brought our trip to 7 hours in the car one we finally reached E's. Another hour and a half back out of London via train and car and I was home. A long week came to an even longer close, but what a week.

Patrick the farm cat, who rarely left our doorstep