There is a conflicting charm to the landscape that is the UK. Opposites of romanticism and the industrious near past. The first part of my visit brought me to effective centers of both. Manchester, the home of the industrial revolution, and York, a story book castle city, and one of the few places in England where Romans camped.
Manchester is much like other western industrial cities. Its recovering from the same overseas production fallout the US suffered. However, its still proud of its "firsts" and rightful claims to modern society. After all, this is where Rutherford's discoveries largely proved the current model of chemistry.
Beneath its triumphs of achievement is the cities big heart. A city of people, tightly knit by community, a pint, and football. Its here that I found the overwhelming genuine kindness in its people. A hospitality and kinship that I haven't even seen in any other country. Between that and its handful of museums and attractions (Curry Mile, Manchester University, parks and its river), Manchester provides a relaxing pace that made it an ideal break between rapid traveling.
York was the real vacation. A tiny city nestled in Yorkshire, providing enough sights for two days even when I had five. Even though the city walls can be walked in about an hour and a half, it provided a near folkloric backdrop to the city contained within. Every tiny block had some kind of unique story; some simple, some legendary, like the birth place of Guy Fawkes. Roads were contorted to fit the 100s of years of development. Crooked houses and secret alleyways led to small shops in old tradition. All of it under the impressive minster that stands as the city's omniscient observer.
The time I spent here gave me new friends and acquaintances that would form a central theme to my later trip to London.
No comments:
Post a Comment