Between the gates of York, England: There is more to this historic British city than what meets the eye
There’s more to the northern British city of York than loose familial ties and two thousand years of history – we’re here for some fun and a food scene plating up some of the country’s finest.
While you can cover its entirety in little more than 15 minutes at a leisurely walking pace, keeping one’s bearings amid the medieval laneways and cobbled alleys of York takes some attention.
And this is before we bend the elbow.
Moated on two sides by the River Ouse and guarded on the others by Roman-era walls (on top of which one can still spend a breezy morning walk), York is a city in name only: one not of streets, nor roads or any real semblance of ordered public planning, but gates, cobbled lanes and charmingly-named thoroughfares (Whip-Ma-Whop-Ma-Gate, Mad Alice Lane and Blowbladder Street but a few highlights), laid out in a seemingly completely random, entrancing jumble.
History practically oozes from every pored brick and cobble in this ancient stronghold of the British north — a site where Roman emperors have been proclaimed, Vikings have ruled and the very foundations of the England we know today were, after hundreds of years of bloody struggle, finally established.
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By continuing you agree to our Terms and Privacy Policy.A glance in any direction provides a visual span of a thousand years of architecture. Grand Georgian townhouses compete for space with Tudor pubs, medieval minsters, Viking forts and, beneath it all, the skeleton of what was once Ancient Rome’s northernmost capital.
Yet for all its history, there’s a sense of vibrancy about the place as ROAM arrives for a recent weekend stay.
The cobbled laneways are bustling with tourists, many brought in this particular weekend by Europe’s largest Viking festival, others by The Shambles — a mess of crooked buildings that, thanks to its resemblance to J. K. Rowling’s Diagon Alley, has become an unofficial hotspot for Harry Potter tragics.
The city’s epicentre remains, of course, York Minster — the north’s largest cathedral. A church has stood on this site since the 7th century, but the grand spired building that juts from its unassuming skyline today dates back to the 13th.
No other British cathedral outside of London has its grandeur — and it’s stood ever since as the beating heart of Christian power in Northern England, the burial place of Northumbrian kings, countless archbishops and just a few hundred yards away from the spot where Constantine the Great was proclaimed Roman Emperor in the year 306 AD.
Its vast east window is the largest expanse of medieval stained glass in the world, while beneath rests the Minster’s trump card, the Undercroft: an underground museum allowing you to walk the ruins of what was a Roman barracks.
Peel away the veneer of swords, wands and robes though, and there’s a sense of a city with a unique grasp on how to channel its rich history into the fresh and the creative.
Our resting place for the two nights is The Grand: a palatial five-star property built into the early 1900s headquarters of the North Eastern Railway. A £2.8 million ($5.2m) renovation has turned its subterranean spa into an oasis of Moroccan-inspired luxury, while a modernised, undeniably Edwardian pomp prevails above ground, centring the space as the city’s enduring ode to post-industrial opulence.
York’s creativity crystalises most wonderfully, however, at our stop for Sunday lunch. Helmed by chef (and Great British Menu alum) Tommy Banks, Roots sits calmly within the airy, sunlit interior of what was a 19th century pub, serving Michelin-starred yet decidedly relaxed take on produce-led British fare.
Roots’ Sunday feast, of course, means a roast elevated to the nth degree. A starting platter sets the stage and presents like something of a bougie ploughman’s, laden with sourdough, wild garlic honey butter, charcuterie and pork terrine.
Then comes the main event: local sirloin with all the trimmings. Beef dripping potatoes, fist-sized Yorkshire pudding, rich bone marrow gravy and leek gratin form just a few choice picks among the smorgasbord.
There are, of course, ample spots dotted amid the laneways to grab a more casual bite. Betty’s stands steadfast as an enduring Yorkshire icon, having served up high teas and baked fancies from its ocean liner-inspired tearoom since the thirties.
Heppni Bakeri is an altogether more modern alternative for a sweet treat on the go, offering high-end artisan viennoiserie with, perhaps fittingly given the city’s Viking roots, a Danish-inspired twist.
Around the corner, Fossgate serves as the city’s hub of indie cafes, bars and casual bites, anchored by the bolthole Kiosk Cafe, purveyor of the city’s best flat white.
York will always come draped in rich history as the Great British Cathedral City — though it’s also finding ways to evolve within the limits of its ancient walls.
