mymidlifegapyear: Heading to York....to do the strange tapping thing

travelling back to London on Royal Jordanian Airlines to go to York for an EFT workshop

tracking my flight from Jordan

I'd still be flying across the Nullabor, if I was in Australia

coming in to land

landed...and I get a bit nostalgic when we pass the flying Kangaroo parked on the tarmac

After staying with Tammy and Gordon in their little pad in Clapham Junction for a couple of days, I make my way to York, a beautiful historic city two hours north of London which is the current holder of the “Best UK City” title.

According to the tourist guide, York has many unique attractions, including an archaeological site called JORVIK, a Viking village (York was a trading hub of the Viking world), “The Shambles,” reputedly Europe’s oldest shopping street (mentioned in the 1086 Domesday Book), York Minster, the largest Gothic Cathedral in North Europe (which took 250 years to complete) well preserved town walls, the best racecourse and largest railway museum. It also boasts being the home of Guy Fawkes, and you can do all sorts of interesting tours here like the toilet tour?? and a number of ghost tours, as it’s officially the most haunted city in Europe!

I am here to attend an EFT (Emotional Freedom Technique) Masterclass workshop and have arrived a day early so I have time to explore.

I am staying at the Ibis York Centre Hotel http://www.hotel-rez.com/hw/a209850/index.htm?lbl=ggl-en a comfortable walk from the train station, the city centre and the Royal York Hotel a grand old lady where the workshop is being held.

York is an easy city to explore on foot, and after a long walk I am keen to try afternoon tea with fresh scones.

Bettys is a famous café whose two outlets I am told often have queues of waiting customers snaking out the door and into the street. Although the atmosphere of the older upstairs café is elegant and cosy, the afternoon tea (two “fresh” scones, clotted cream, jam and pot of tea) which I have been looking forward to, is expensive and disappointing. The scones are dry, cold and doughy despite being assured that they are freshly baked and the service is poor.

Thankfully, a much more positive experience is dinner at the Concerto café (near the Minster) which has fresh, tasty inexpensive food, a warm cosy environment and friendly staff, and the Old Siam Restaurant in the Micklegate area which served authentic and tasty Thai food (the Tom Yung Goong soup and Spring Rolls really hitting the spot on a cold night).

I’m sitting in lobby of my hotel in front of a fake fire. A woman is knitting, another working on her computer, and a few men are gathered around a television watching a ‘football” game.

The news comes on and the reporter is talking about Gaddafi being dead. The only other news item to merit a mention is that Julia Gillard has caused a furore by refusing to curtsy to the Queen, who is visiting Australia. The PM has responded to her critics arguing that protocol allowed for her to make a choice of doing what felt more comfortable. Most British commentators are unanimous in their condemnation but one brave soul suggests perhaps the Monarch may have appreciated talking to a person’s face, rather than to another head. I notice that my mind has automatically started to ponder the situation, trying to decide what position to take, and in that moment of noticing I realise that I actually don’t care whether Julia Gillard curtsied to the Queen or not, and decide not to waste my time thinking about it. Which makes me wonder how many times I have wasted my time thinking about things that don’t really matter. So I won’t!

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