United Kingdom: Dorky in Yorky


Took a day trip to York on Saturday, and I know I keep saying this, but it is my new favourite place. Each is better than the last. Other than it being freezing, which I also keep saying, it was a perfect day. My man Rick Steves (it’s a book) recommended that if you were to only go to two places in England, make them London and York. So that tells you at least something about the place.

9:40: Arrived at the train station, grabbed a McDonald’s coffee and breakfast bagel that changed my life and boarded the train. I sat next to a cute old Irish man who offered me his newspaper while I chomped bagel in his ear. I love the train. Plus, my ticket was really cheap because I got a new rail card. Look how cute and “cross” I am. Click it. Make it big. Hehe.
Sometimes my eyes just accidently look at my nose. It's not the first time, I'll tell ya that much. ;)
Sometimes my eyes just accidently look at my nose. It’s not the first time, I’ll tell ya that much. 😉

10:20(ish?): Arrived in York. Snowing slightly, only naturally since I didn’t bring my gloves, raincoat, umbrella, or ear-warmers. We went straight to Betty’s tea room (it’s famous—google it) and if you’re my cousin and you like tea and you’re reading this, I may or may not have bought you a little treat while I was there ;). This was def my fave part of the day. Me and Emily split the big tea shebang and practically had to take out a loan for it. But it was worth it. Sorry, dad. I’m culturing myself, okay? I savored each of the little sandwiches and pastries like it was the last meal I’d ever have; closing my eyes and drooling with each bite. YUM. We were the least classy people there, but didn’t even care.

Please look at this honey. Yes. It’s honey.
Don’t you just want to shove that whole thing in your mouth?
Ma own dang pot o’ tea. Get off me.
Me, Emily, and a tastin’ of the world’s most overpriced pastries.
I lifted my tea for the pic. It was my pose, obvi.
Beca and Betty. Two neat gals with myself.

I’ve now lost track of time: We walked around and explored. And took some pictures, so here you go.

Just being freezing on a famous street in York. It’s called The Shambles.
Some of you are about to receive a postcard with a pic of this street on it. Here it is with me!
“Excuse me, ma’am. You don’t look like you’d steal my camera. Will you take our picture, please?”
Here’s a better pic of The Shambles. And of a stranger’s back.

Around 4:00: Early dinner at this hip bar/pub/club? (I’m really not sure of the difference in all of these, still.) We were STARVING and turning evil, so we tried to quickly find a place. I ordered a salad because I’m always really healthy and then I regretted it as soon as it was in front of me and I determined I hate healthy food. I mean, it was fine. But a bacon cheeseburger and some chips (fries) would’ve been 600 times better.

My sweet little Kindalin. I have no idea what scenery we are posed with here.
We were just starving and looking hot with our matching French braids,
half-fake-hungry smiles, and some canal.

Went for a few dranks afterward, played would you rather, and solved the world’s problems. Then we went on a ghost tour since York is ranked by Guinness world records as the most haunted town in the world. I read that somewhere. Who knows how reputable that info is, though. The tour guide was entertaining and it was only 3 pounds, but once again, I couldn’t feel my toes for the duration of the tour. Or for like 6 hours afterward.

This is him. I don’t know his name or anything.

I swear this was a way funner day than this blog post is describing.


Well, whatever. Tuesday was Chase’s birthday and it was definitely one of my favourite days in Leeds (not in all of England, but just in Leeds) so far. We explored more of the town/ city(?) and made some awesome discoveries. It’s hard to believe I am living in the 3rd largest city in England and have yet to discover SO much. We went to the market which is basically just that. Lots of people set up in tents in a partially indoor and partially outdoor set up selling all kinds of sheet. Mostly stuff you wouldn’t ever want like plastic-but-looks-like-metal ring watches, Nokia cell phone chargers, 5 bags of cheddar Goldfish for 1 pound that expired in November, slap bracelets etc…, but some of it was good. Like, there’s a meat market. And the raw meat actually looked decent for being raw meat. And I just enjoyed the atmosphere. I can see myself buying something of substance there eventually. And then sorta near-by was this big super dome-esque building called The Corn Exchange. Back in 1864, that’s exactly what it was. Except that I’m sure they didn’t just trade corn for corn, right? Probably corn for cattle? Corn for rice? I don’t know. Something like that. Regardless, I LOVED IT THERE. It is so dang cute and cool on the inside and the shops were really nice. Of course, my favourite was this little retro gourmet hot dog shop called Primo’s. I had a hot dog that made me want to slap ma mama. Sorry, momsy. It was a Bratsworth (I have no idea how to spell or say that word—stop judging) weiner with chili, cheese, and coleslaw all piled on the softest bread. Changed my life. As does all delicious food items I eat.

Now picture cattle running around here waiting to be traded for corn.
This is just a pretty picture I took of my cool new college town. Or city. Whatev.

Then, I found some green pants (trousers is what I should say. Pants here are what you Americans would call pantIES… awk.) which I’ve been on a serious mission to find for St. Patrick’s day which I’ll be spending in the Ire! Got ‘em from this place called Joule’s, which my girl @maclayto would love. It’s apparently a total British place to shop, so I figured that for my first investment in clothing since I’ve been here, I might as well. Plus, they were on sale. Obviously. High five, dad! So dang frugal.

Boldly British. How stinkin’ cute.
Is it inappro to leave the tags on them? That’s a thing, isn’t it?

At the end of Tuesday, we went out to dinner and then to this bar to celebrate Chase’s life and me finally not being the oldest one of my friends by at least a year. Yay to feeling 22!

Boom Boom Pow.
The lucky ones who sat across from me. Sorry for cropping you out, Scott and Peter.
Otha side of the table. Look at that hunky birthday boy.

~ Gabrielle Campo

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