transcribed from journal I kept while traveling in Britain

Made it to the hostel. Cool place. Nice rooms. Loads of facilities. Roomy hot showers with real water pressure. Large comfy beds. Free hot chocolate in the kitchen. Large common room with internet accesible computers. I met a ot of the current residents while waiting for a computer. Seems like many of them have been here a while. Lots of people from Europe and British Commonwealth countries. Probably here on those visas you can get to work menial work in another country. Sounded to me like they live here on a week to week basis.
I wonder how everyone else is doing? Aaron, Mikey, Katie, Darby, Steph, Fran, Mom, Dad, Steve, Gillian. Everyone and Ivy Hall and Ivy House. I hope they’re doing okay.

transcribed from journal I kept while traveling in Britain

Certainly nice that I got to add York to my list of places. The Minster was nice, but it’s the city itself that impressed me. This place still had the original Norman wall, built close to a thousand years ago.
Overall, I think it’s the mixture of old and new that gets to me. London isn’t a good example, it’s constantly re-inventing itself. York was a really good example – modern office buildings next to medieval wall and gates next to Victorian homes and Edwardian businesses. And they all work together so well! There was even one building that was designed in a very medieval castle manor, though it couldn’t have been more than 20 years old.

transcribed from journal I kept while traveling in Britain

Let’s continue on yesterday, shall we? After I checked into the hostel, I wandered around for a while. There were cobblestones streets, and narrow alleyways, and stairways with names. Speaking of stairways…
This hostel is incredible. It’s an old building, it might have been part of the grounds of the house that’s situated next to the Abbey. From the window in my room I could see the Abbey itself, and from the front door I can see St. Mary’s church and the graveyard.
Last night I took a “ghost tour” of Whitby. There actually aren’t that many ghosts in Whitby, who was a bit overdramatic but effectively sinister, embelished with stories of witches, Dracula, and demon-hounds. All in all, very interesting. I got to see parts of Whitby I wouldn’t have seen otherwise.
This morning I went for a walk along the top of the cliff. I nearly got blown off, the winds are that strong.

transcribed from journal I kept while traveling in Britain

Had to stop earlier. Bus pulled away from stop and started shaking to muck. Anyways… It never registered that this country has had major civilization for over two thousand years. On the bus trip, we followed roads that passed through castle gates barely wide enough for the bus. We drove through villages where the newest building had to have been 300 years old. We drove over the moors, seemingly untouched by human hand,until you saw the tumbled over stone wall or battlement or cottage. Watching the sheep as we passed until we finally came to places where the sheep freely wandered across the road. There is not one part of this island that has not been claimed by man, reclaimed by nature, reshaped in a continuous struggle between the two opposing forces.
Whitby was incredible. I’m freezing my ass off, but it’s incredible. The hostel is right next to the old abbey, at the top of the 199 steps as described in Dracula. The seaside is amazing. The only real drawback is that it feels like UB in january – the only thing missing is the snow. I got in around 5:30, and was immediately glad I packed my leather jacket. I wandered around the streets for awhile, mostly on the East, medival side of town.