Why York is better than Nottingchester

Yesterday, Christopher and I spent the day in the charming York.  Unlike trips to Manchester and Nottingham, there was a real purpose to this visit. We didn’t go just to wander around closed University buildings, or assess the city on whether or not it had a Pret a Manger (By the way, IT DID). No, no.  We went with the simple intent of visiting the NATIONAL RAILWAY MUSEUM.

It was with this in mind that I gleefully awoke at SEVEN THIRTY on a Saturday morning to get ready.  An hour or so later, we were at the train station to collect our tickets. We queued for the machines, went to the only one that wasn’t for collecting tickets, re-queued, and finally got them. And as if the train station hadn’t failed us enough already, we had to wait SEVEN minutes because our train was delayed. I’m seriously considering writing a strongly worded letter.

Nevertheless, we finally managed to leave our rainy hometown and reach the relative sunshine of YORK. We spent the first half of the day preparing ourselves for the RAILWAY MUSEUM with some hardcore shopping. Too much time spent there and we would have become overexcited.

Our first stop was the adorable Cath Kidson shop, where Chris looked at all the floral prints with delight. I then dragged him into H & M where he utterly refused to try on a fetching red chequered shirt. We spent a good ten minutes in there trying to work out whether we were actually viewing a oversized baby suit with hearts on, like we thought we were.

We were on our way to Topshop when we found a much more amazing store selling everything you could possibly want. I spent a while considering a game called “Who’s naked?” , a clotheless version of who’s who, while Chris was eying up some Racing Royals. We left that shop with joyful hearts and a 2 foot inflatable afro.

 

Convinced as we were that nothing could beat that, we actually came across a shop called MANWORLD or something, which I was forced into. As it happens, I’m pretty sure I enjoyed Manworld more than my boyfriend. It was full of wonders! From sonic screwdrivers to a boob radio. Yeah. A boob radio.

Following in Jasmine’s footsteps, I also decided to introduce him to the Marks and Spencers bra section. He followed me awkwardly for maybe 2 minutes, before cowering to the relative safety of the old ladies clothes. I think that says a lot.

We eventually dragged ourselves away from the marvels of York city centre to go to the NATIONAL RAILWAY MUSEUM. As you may have gathered, I was kind of looking forward to this. AND I WASN’T DISAPPOINTED.  We happily wandered, nay, gleefully SKIPPED around a giant room of trains. I was in my element. We sat on a bit of a bullet train, GAPED at a model railway, and even constructed our own train out of wooden blocks designed for children to use. We were both chuffed with this achievement.

We even saw a stuffed dog. Seriously, this place had everything.

Eventually, it was time to tear ourselves away from York and catch our train home. If it wasn’t for the prospect of going on a train, this would have been heartbreaking. Quite like trains, you see...

Forever yours,
Vicky xx