Current Location: York, England

Like everyplace else that I’ve visited, York is steeped in history; history informs everything here and gives it shape; it’s almost a palpable force that you can smell. Even though most of the even oldest buildings throughout Ireland and the UK are of 18th century origin or later, there are still places and buildings which date back several centuries or even a millenia or two. In York, the huge cathedral York Minster has parts which date back to the 4th century, when the city was a Roman city; other parts go back to the 12th and 13th centuries; and the most modern major portions of the Minster are still several hundred years old. The central tower of the Minster, measuring nearly 80m high, has been estimated to weigh in at over sixteen thousand tons. From the center of the cathedral, where the nave and choir and two transepts meet, you can look up and feel overwhelmed by the height of the building, and feel yourself getting dizzy in sympathy for the workers who had to install the stained glass windows and bosses which decorate the interior of the tower.

Surrounding the cathedral is the city of York itself. In an area of the city known as "The Shambles", the streets are so narrow that there is not room for a single automobile to drive through, and many areas in the city center are closed to automobile traffic. The Shambles itself was once the butchers’ lane in York, and it was here that butchers would slaughter their animals and sell their meat. The streets are still there, but the butcher stalls are now small shops and pubs and cafés. This Internet café is not in one of the tiny streets of the Shambles, but it is in one of the older, narrow parts of the city that are closed off to automobiles.

And today, of course, I toured the castle. The ruins of the castle of York, Clifford’s Tower (the reason why the name of the Tower itself was changed from York Tower to Clifford Tower is unknown), is a small building, shaped something like a cloverleaf, and hollow. Ages ago, it was a two story building with stone walls criss-crossing the interior, but a mason of the 19th century had taken stones from the castle and was reselling them for personal money. He was not caught until two years later.

I’m beginning to realize that, fiercely proud as they are of their history and heritage, the British and Irish fondness of their own history is, after all, a relatively recent phenomenon. Castles and cathedrals and old churches still stand and speckle the landscape, but more frequent are the buildings that were build from pieces of centuries-old buildings which have fallen over or which were simply salvaged for their building materials. Pieces of standing stones throughout the British Isles were important for many years not because of their archaeological value but because they were rich sources of valuable stone. History here is generally well recorded, but there are still plaques which read, "believed to have been built in 1901", and so on. War memorials feature prominently in the center of just about every city I’ve been in, including Tain, commemorating those who died in the First World War (usually referred to as the Great War), but to the English Civil War.

It’s as if, in some way, awareness of history and heritage didn’t really spread throughout the country until the middle of the last century, slowly building up until today, when the desire to preserve the past frequently conflicts with the desire for progress. This conflict is often seen in campaigns featuring slogans such as, "Preserve Our Heritage!" and "Stop the Rebuilders!"

It’s easy for me to imagine the people of the British Isles overwhelmed at the sense of history that hangs over them, burdened with it, as if they were always feeling the weight of sixteen thousand tons just over their heads.

On a different note, I should observe that England is very different from both Scotland and Ireland in character and appearance. While the people of Ireland and Scotland were very outgoing and friendly and ready to share a smile and a joke, the people of England are far more reserved and their humor is much more understated (one Englishman I spoke to, demonstrating perfectly the English pompousness and the self-effacing nature of English humor, explained to me that all English boys have their imaginations surgically removed five days after their birth). While A– told me that she was disgusted with English pompousness, I explained that being angry with the English for being pompous would be like being angry with the Irish for being friendly; it’s a cultural characteristic, the same sort of thing which makes Americans overbearing and noisy (while, at the same time, enthusiastically friendly).

Personally, I think that the English reservation and pompousness is paper thin. Scratch the surface of it just a bit, and you’ll find that the English are just as friendly as the Scots and the Irish, and while the sense of superiority remains it is made tolerable by the fact that the English know their reputation and rarely miss an opportunity to make a joke of it.

My next stop of Stratford-upon-Avon; after two days there I head over to London, and from there I head home (via Amsterdam).