Time Travel for the Temporally Bound

I woke up in a Saxon hall

I was trying to ‘chill out’. It turns out I can’t escape my own work ethic very easily. Regarding my own recent outline of how this Substack will continue, now that it is almost two and a half years old, I should have taken last week off posting on a Monday morning. When there are five Mondays in a calendar month, I had given myself permission to take a week off. Well, it didn’t happen. And it’s not happening this week either as I am in a wonderful place, Butser Ancient Farm teaching natural paints and inks and assisting Theresa Emmerich Kamper on her Using the Whole Animal course. It’s just too beautiful and interesting here not to share it with you. Have you slept in a replica Saxon hall, made with the genuine tools and techniques of the time? I just woke up here, across from the Roman villa, and a few strides from the Iron Age settlement. Join me in a wander around.

Will normal service be resumed next week? Will I give up all mod cons and become a brewster? It is very appealing not to return to snivilisation¹. I guess we’ll find out.

Wardruna with giant horns at Barbican, York, photo by Andy

This week’s good thing: A pub crawl around four of York’s historic pubs with friends, followed by the incomparable Wardruna at the Barbican.

Quite a few people who read this know me in person and are probably aware that I don’t drink very much alcohol (compared to the average Brit of my age). That’s always been the case, it is known that I am the cheapest date this side of the Solent. Anyway, it took me 53 years to go on an actual (very sedate and enjoyable) pub crawl with my partner, friends and housemates, only 35 years later than most people of my generation. Conversations ebbed and flowed, puns erupted with surprising regularity, bar snacks were procured. Excellent momos were obtained at Yak and Yeti. I was in bed by 11pm. A perfect day.

Should you find yourself with a thirst while in Yorvik, here’s a brief guide. We started with the Golden Ball, an iconic boozer once frequented by Charles Dickens, caught in a time warp somewhere between 1890 and 1930, but with fewer chimney-sweeping children, added stained glass and a great community vibe. Then onward to the Blue Bell, established 1798, an original ‘parlour pub’ where you are served through a hatch to the central bar. Phone use is banned and real-life conversations are encouraged. We needed no such encouragement. The Guinness was ‘perfect’, according to Andy.

Assuming that all the pubs we would go to would now be named by the formula colour + object, I attempted to not be disappointed as it was down-graded to simply adjective + noun. Back into the ancient centre of town via The Shambles to Trembling Madness, an ancient building now serving as a mead hall above two floors of extremely well stocked off-license, holding the best selection of meads I have ever seen in one place. Obviously I had a mead, which I like to drink with sparkling water, an inauthentic and rather delicious long drink which I call ‘the long mead’. Last up before the gig, The Phoenix, sadly lacking any adjectives, I had to make do with its great atmosphere, inexpensive drinks and beautiful historic features. Finally, over the road and under the Roman city walls to the Barbican and a a night of great music from the Norse collective Wardruna with their eclectic and hypnotic new sounds with old instruments and layers of vocals. You may have heard them in the Vikings and The Last Kingdom soundtracks. It was a superb gig.

So maybe see you next week for a review of adventure sports and hi-tech gear?

Unlikely, but there will be something for you, that’s for sure.

1. What my friend Mark calls ‘civilisation’.