York and Leeds

This happened several weeks ago. I just took forever writing it. That doesn't mean it's well-written, just that I'm hella lazy... I'm gonna backdate this later, but here it is, in all it's glory, for you to read. Which you're clearly doing. So by all means, continue on to the non-italicized text:

The day after handing in the giant pile of computer-assisted crap that is my MA portfolio, Emily and I went to York, via Leeds. We went via Leeds because York is currently [was] hosting the Royal Ascot, a big stinky fancy racing meet, so the tickets to York were £100 one way, and for that much, I could catch the Eurostar return to Paris, and still have money leftover for two nights in a hostel, a nice dinner, and a cheap bottle of French wine--and while I may love horse racing, I'd still always rather go to Paris.

Anyways. We were both tired, hungover and slightly depressed on the 7:35 train to Leeds, so we slept the whole way. After changing at Leeds to a train to York, which was standing room only (tho, we, in full hangover mode, sat on the floor), we finally got to York.

Walking out of the train station, I realized I hadn't fully understood this event. People dress up for the Ascot. I mean, fancy dresses and retarded hats. Men wore top hats. And there I am, walking around in a t-shirt and jeans. Shit.

So we bought me a pair of shoes on the way to Emily's house, which was a bad move, as after a day walking around York in new shoes, my feet were bleeding.

Anyways, we then headed to Em's parent's house. It's a cute brick house... with a jaguar out front. The car, not the cat. But cool either way, and not quite what I expected. We headed to the races almost immediately, with me wearing a long green skirt of Emily's and my new shoes. And a shirt. I was not half-naked.



Going to the races was fun, tho not at all like the racing I'm used to (given I'm rather used to being behind the scenes now, as it were.) This was more of a social occasion than a sporting one, and I couldn't get anywhere near the rail to watch the horses thunder past, which was a big shame. This day just wasn't what I expected. Posh people ruin everything... to me, racing is about horses, drinking and gambling, which all happened here, but England's too clean about it. I like it a bit grittier, a bit more pathetic. It's more fun that way. But, it was still a good day, especially for Em's dad George (rather emulating my own dad here), who won £1209 on a bet. He accidently bet about $60 when he meant to bet £12, but it uh, paid off in the end. Very cool.

We spent the rest of the weekend wandering York and drinking with Emily's friends. I was well-behaved. I didn't get drunk, and I didn't fall asleep by the river, I didn't roll down a massive hill for shits and giggles. I was well-behaved, really.



York is a very pretty city. It's a kinda touristy, pub-riddled, walled city. So all around the old part is this ancient wall, which Emily used to live next to, and is fun to walk along. York would be an awesome place to raise kids. It's pretty and quiet, but also interesting with a seriously good indie music scene. Who woulda thunk it?

On the Sunday, Em's parents drove us to Leeds, which isn't very far. I'm not sure if it was the hangover (what hangover? well behaved, I swear) or the lack of sleep or too much sun or George's driving, but I was a little carsick. I didn't puke or anything, I just felt wobbly and weird, like that one time my Dad and Amanda and I did the pub crawl to Vancouver. Anyways.

We wandered around Leeds for a bit. It was okay. Good shopping, for those with money, but it wasn't exactly an exciting place, but then again, we didn't see a whole lot. It was hot and we were tired, so we ended up having a very long lunch at this chicken place I always seem to end up at when eating off a hangover with Emily. Then, it rained. Then, we saw Batman Begins (=good). Then, we went home. Then, I slept. The end.

Pics: http://njkobie.dotphoto.com/CPViewAlbum.asp?AID=2547906