Challenge Number 19 – Visit Clifford’s Tower

Everyone has a place in their home town that they never get round to visiting. That is, if their home towns contain places worth visiting. I mean, your home town might house a shithole that you deliberately avoid visiting (divey nightspot, concrete shopping centre, power station), but that’s not the same thing. I mean somewhere you really SHOULD visit, but never make the time. Because you don’t need to. It’s always there. You’re always there. One day, it will happen. Except it never does.

For me, that place in York is Clifford’s Tower. Despite various visits to York throughout my childhood and teenage years, three years as an undergraduate here and now nearly five years as a full-time resident (where did that go?) I’d never been. Some might think that’s because it’s up an awful lot of steps and I am a bit of a lazy arse. But I can do steps. For example, I climbed the tower of the Minster at the end of my first year at university, which contains loads of steps, not to mention a hideous walk across a parapet. So I don’t think the steps were the problem. It might be because it’s one of the sights in York that a resident has to pay to visit (unless you are a member of English Heritage) and I’m a bit of a tight Yorkshire lass at heart. But most likely it was just because everyone has to have somewhere in their home town that they never get round to visiting.

So this Bank Holiday Monday, I went to see Clifford’s Tower. And it’s brilliant. Apart from the whole Jews burning themselves to death and prisoners being strung up by chains thing. I’m not saying that was brilliant. What is brilliant is the view. You get a completely unique aspect of the city from the top. There’s the Minster for starters, which is hard to see from anywhere else within the City Walls (unless you’re in the cafe in the menswear section of Marks and Spencer’s). Then there’s the Castle Museum and law courts on one side, the rivers Ouse and Foss, the North York Moors on the horizon, the Yorkshire Wheel, the sails of Holgate Windmill, Fairfax House, Rowntree's, Terry's, the Grandstand at the Knavesmire, our house, as well as the less good stuff like the Coppergate Centre and the world’s worst car park (= who needs room to actually open a car door?) directly at the foot of the mound.

It doesn’t take lots of time to look around Clifford’s Tower but there’s lots to learn while you’re there. And it’s not just a faceless ruin inside, which is what you might think looking up at it from the road. There’s a chapel that I never knew was there, as well as fireplaces and latrines - evidence of rooms (a Royal Treasury no less) long gone.

There are some very friendly people working there. And some very annoying people who go and visit it. Not the teenagers who think that rolling down William the Conqueror’s mound is a right laff. (They would slide down the banister, but some killjoy stuck metal knobs at regular intervals along its length.) Or me, trying to take a photo of myself at arm’s length as my husband had gone off shopping with Charlotte. But tourists. Looking for the lift. Shouting down iPhones. Having mock sword fights with plastic swords. Doing rock and roll dances in the courtyard. And that was just one family.

For those who’d like to know more, there’s some good historical information about Clifford’s Tower here and here, which I don’t have time to plagiarise.

Generally, people in York have not been kind to the site of Clifford’s Tower. They've burned it down three times. (Once with intent, once as part of a tragic mass suicide and once because someone was careless with a cannon.) They've allowed it to fall into ruin twice. They've blocked it off from view for centuries behind high prison walls. They built that sodding car park next to it. They used to have a fireworks display in it on Bonfire Night, which was probably somewhat disrespectful to all those persecuted Jews. They’ve covered it in graffiti at least once since I’ve lived in York. Now apparently they want to expand Coppergate and build a shopping centre even closer to it. And then there’s people like me, who never get round to visiting it.

Until now.

Challenge Number 20 – Solve A Medium Level Sudoku

A few years ago, Dave bought me an “easy Sudoku” book for my birthday, and it pretty much took me until my next birthday to work my way through it. So it was time, stealing this challenge from Sam, to up my game and move on to the next level. I trawled through the Guardian archive of puzzles and, rather than making a completely random choice, I spotted that they had a medium level Sudoku on my birthday this year, so that’s the one I picked. It had a rather nice symmetry to it too. It took me about half an hour to complete. I could actually feel my brain hurting all the way through.

Challenge Number 30: Take Charlotte To An Aquarium.

I actually completed this challenge a few weeks ago but haven’t managed to make time to write about it until now. I love aquariums (aquaria? Wikipedia says both terms are acceptable, but that doesn’t make it true). As I can’t even swim breaststroke with my face in the water (and no, you don’t need to tell me how rubbish that is), I know I’ll never be a deep-sea diver, so the opportunity to see exotic marine life while breathing normal air is one I relish. Over the years, I’ve seen some very cool aquariums in some far-flung places – Baltimore, Genoa, London, Singapore – but Charlotte had to make do (at least for now) with The Deep in Hull. 

Oh, but she loved it. She didn’t stop running from the moment we arrived until the moment we left. The place was one giant ramp as far as she was concerned, which is currently her idea of heaven. (Really, we could have taken her to a building site and she’d have been just as happy.) But she was running around making her (unaspirated voiceless bilabial plosive) fish noise so must have been noticing at least some of the tanks as she raced past. Chasing Charlotte means it’s all a bit of a blur, like the photograph, but I’d definitely score The Deep very highly on an aquarium ratings system. It has a glass tunnel under one of its tanks and a lift that rises up through another. It has sharks and information about environmental responsibility. It has a nautical themed soft play area. It serves fish and chips in the restaurant.

Technically, The Deep calls itself a submarium, which I believe is because a lot of the action takes place under the River Humber, but what the heck, it’s an aquarium. And we took Charlotte. And I hope we can go back to see some more very soon.

Challenge Number 34: Bake 40 Loaves Of Bread In A Year.

I’ve managed to bake five so far. All using the breadmaker, but that’s allowed at the moment.

Numbers one and two were on a rapid bake white loaf setting. The first (half-eaten with daffodils in the background on its photo) was for some friends who came to lunch. The second contained olive oil rather than butter as Charlotte had been throwing up and tends not to tolerate any dairy for a while after a stomach bug. The yeast I used for both loaves was also about two years out of date but the loaves still rose OK. I did have some yeast in date; I just removed the wrong packet from the cupboard. 

The third loaf was made with in-date yeast, still a rapid white loaf, but on a darker crust setting. As it turned out, there’s a fine line between darker crust and burnt crust.

The fourth loaf was done on a normal length bake setting, and contained mixed seeds. This was the best loaf I’ve made so far. But I was worried that the pumpkin seeds were just the right size for Charlotte to choke on, so I didn’t let her have any of this one. Seems completely paranoid in retrospect.

The fifth loaf was to feed our friends Ann, Rich and Tom as an accompaniment to leek and cauliflower soup, and was once again a rapid bake white loaf. I need to organise myself to bake bread more than two hours before I need to eat it, then I can diversify a lot more. But hey, there’s a nice fruit bowl in the background of the photo of this loaf at least.

Am I really going to post about 40 loaves of bread on this blog? It seems that way. If I don’t, you won’t have proof that all 40 loaves existed, but I'm sure you will find reading about and looking at them more than tedious. So part of the challenge is to make loaves of bread seem more interesting, I guess. 

But I’m an eighth of the way there on this challenge! 

Two Half Challenges: Part Two

Challenge Number 27: To visit both Clapham Junction stations

This challenge was also half-completed during our week in Dentdale. Technically, North Yorkshire’s Clapham Junction station no longer exists as it was on a branch line shut down by Dr Beeching, but Clapham station does, on the Leeds to Lancaster line.

I chose this challenge because I lived in Clapham SW4 for nearly two years during my time in London, renting a small room in a shared house (shared with a German who liked to practise home colonic irrigation and complain when I opened my bedroom drawers too loudly) for half my salary (before bills). I spent a further two and a half years in SW postcodes after that, with Clapham Junction station always a regular fixture in my commuting and weekend life.

North Yorkshire’s Clapham embodies everything I craved when living in the capital – fresh air, a babbling brook, beautiful scenery all around, great countryside walking, a quaint, peaceful village. And Clapham Junction embodies everything I miss about London now that I’ve moved away to North Yorkshire – excellent public transport, a 24-hour multi-ethnic buzz, and great bars, shops and restaurants just a short hop away.

Both Claphams exude wealth and class privilege. Both, as it turns out, have traditional London taxis.

Two Half Challenges: Part One

The going on the Settle-Carlisle railway challenge of course allowed me to half-complete another, Challenge Number 37: Take Charlotte To See Both Her Parents’ Home Towns, as Carlisle is where Dave grew up. I established a family tradition as, like my mother before me, I married a man called David from Cumbria with a PhD. Dave was actually living in Carlisle for the first few months after we got together in 2001 (working as a political assistant for the –ahem- Conservative party of the city council), which meant a lot of time spent on the far less scenic Virgin West Coast line, trekking to and from London. This sounds crazy now (it must have been love), but having tried to conduct a transatlantic long-distance relationship when I was a teenager, the journeying really didn’t seem too big a deal. Besides, rail fares were super cheap that year after the Hatfield crash forced so many speed restrictions to be imposed, thus doubling most journey times. And Cumbria, in the grip of foot and mouth, was glad of the extra visitor, I’m sure.

Charlotte had actually been to Carlisle once before, to her grandparents’ house on Boxing Day, but she’d never seen the city centre. I’m not sure what she made of the place, but she decided to inject some cool by insisting on wearing her sunglasses throughout lunch. Or maybe she just felt the need for disguise.

Challenge Number 35: Go On The Settle-Carlisle Railway

I chose this challenge because it was just one of those things I’d always been meaning to do. Every time we drove along the A65 past Settle on our way to see my dad in Grasmere we’d say “We must go on the Settle-Carlisle railway one day” and that would be all we’d do about it. So given the opportunity to stay for a few days at a friend’s converted barn in nearby Dentdale, we decided to finally seize the opportunity. Although Dent was our nearest station on the line we decided to do the full route, as travelling from Dent we wouldn’t have been able to go over the Ribblehead viaduct, which once you’ve seen it from the road just has to be done. Two further massively impressive viaducts cross the end of Dentdale which you would also miss if you only travelled from Dent station. (Although that said, the viaducts are often scarcely noticeable from the train itself.)

We had a week of very mixed weather, but our journeys on the day were mostly clear, and torrential rain only set in once we were safely back in Settle. We boarded the 9.50 to Carlisle and returned on the 14.04, with just enough time for a quick stroll around the remarkably sunny Cumbrian capital and a very bad lunch in Pizza Express (having a serious off day) in between. And the railway journey really was stunning. It is beautiful every inch of the way, and totally worth the steep £22 return fare. From the forbidding peaks of Pen-y-Ghent and Ingleborough, through dry-stone walled limestone valleys, past remote sheep farms (“Look at baa-baas!” said Charlotte, between readings of the Gruffalo), over the aforementioned viaducts, and then through the lush Eden valley, with the Lakeland fells in the distance, covered in snow like Alpine peaks.

It would be wrong not to pause and remember all those navvies who gave their lives building the Settle-Carlisle railway in terrible weather and working conditions, armed with only their brute strength and the occasional stick of dynamite. We must also give thanks to all those who devoted their lives to sparing the railway from closure in 1989, and who still help run and maintain it as a partial charitable organisation today.