York Archives - Page 2 of 3

The walk through campus looks so different since I returned to my final term at York.

Now when I arrive, walking past the Old Sports Centre, all I see is queues of Freshers eager to see what freebies they can glean from Fresher’s Fair. I walk through James College, past McQ’s filling up for the weekly pub quiz, and post-night-outers tucking into the CU’s free toasties. Past N Block, where I can still hear the geese alarms shirking the first years out of their hangovers, and over Vanbrugh Bridge, under construction still, where I once passed out after an unsuccessful bar crawl.

Across Vanbrugh Paradise, where we sunbathed with revision notes and watched fireworks across the lake. Heading up to the Courtyard, where we devour burgers, and through the hall I sat exams in. Wander through Langwith, dodge students filing out of lectures, up to the Quiet Place, where I cried and told my mum I was homesick in first year.

Then up, back through Derwent, past the corner with The Charles, where countless quick pints turned into late night Chinese takeaways, or worse, Chinese discos. Walk along University Road, watching a duck cause a traffic jam. Nip into Costcutter for a cursory glance at the reduced section, then off to the library.

No scaffolding anymore, through the puff of smoke into the Morrell. Discover the book that salvages your essay, then down to the Silent Study area, home of naps. Retrace my steps to the exit, and over to Alcuin Bridge to see people trudging back from late-night snowball fights. Snaking through the Alcuin blocks, past the room where I was elected onto a committee and where I received my first ever fail.

Cross Derwent Bridge, past the poster advertising the house I lived in during third year. Trot down the stairs, back to the lake, and follow it to the Exhibition Centre. I fainted in there on my first day of lectures, was carried to the health centre by some startled strangers. The countless YSC films I watched in that building flicker, the countless student papers I read waiting for a lecture fade.

Sit on my favourite bench, outside the maths’ rooms, and watch friends graduate across the lake in Central Hall while I throw crumbs at the surrounding ducks. It’s me next. Then it’ll be you.

Originally published 20/05/13 for The Yorker Nostalgia (print) Issue.

I’m not really the kind of person who gets anxious.

I do panic and stress fine, better than most you might say. You should see me tip a house upside down in less than ten minutes because I can’t find a pair of glasses and I’m already late for work. But anxiety? Nah.

I’m more of a last-minute-high-temperature-quickly-oh-god-the-printer’s-broken-phone-my-mum kinda gal. Slow bubbling nervousness isn’t really my thing. At least it wasn’t until the joys of week three, term three, year three rolled around. Oh, and I move to London in just over three weeks. (Who was it who said “three is the magic number”? They can go to hell.)

I don’t think I’m suffering from real anxiety. Not as a condition. I’ve just got this horrible rumbling feeling in the pit of my cookie-filled stomach that what if- what if- I mess this up? What if I blank in my exam, or accidentally plagiarise an entire essay, or just faint in a presentation? I know it’s unlikely, but I can’t get this fear of failure out of my mind.

Are we all feeling like this? Is this what people warn you about? I’ve not been sleeping because all I can think about is referencing, and I’ve been feeling kinda sick whenever I try and settle down to relax. I initially put this down to maybe eating a little too much calamari at my new favourite restaurant Lucia’s, but I’ve not eaten any lightly-dusted Cajun squid in ages, so it can’t be that.

There’s nineteen days in between me and my final piece of work, and as much as I’m desperately trying to get it over with, it doesn’t seem very fair at all. Why should our last days at university, our last days in education at all, be felt feeling sick at the thought of failing? Of dropping one mark in fear of changing grade boundaries? I’ve loved my time at university, I don’t want to remember it as a montage of nervously checking word limits and freaking out when an important book is already on loan.

So, to combat this miserable outlook, I’m making a habit of RELAXING. I’ve started watching Game of Thrones (though as a means to relaxation I can’t say it’s particularly helpful, that show is tense), I went along to my wonderful Yorker’s lifestyle meeting to catch up with the old gang, I went for a sunny lunch with Joanne and I’ve more or less decided on booking a hotel for my first few nights in LDN to take the pressure off. As cheesy as it sounds, having a little bit of time to yourself in between JSTOR articles, makes the world of difference.

I LOVE going for meals. It upsets me that society limits us to two “going out for a meal” opportunities a day. I’d quite happily walk from one three course meal to the next day, all day, every day. Here’s where I’d do it in York- a city of beauty and glorious, glorious food.

5. Melton’s Too
Looking for some proper Yorkshire food? Good, because there’s stacks of it in the deceptively massive Melton’s Too, on Walmgate. The best thing about this tasty, tasty stuff is it’s also got a Yorkshire price tag, with Early Bird Menus at £13 each. Did I mention the real ale? Yup, if you’re looking for somewhere to soak in a Yorkshire pub atmostphere with just a touch more chic, then book a table here immediately.

4. Ambiente
On the edges of the city centre, past the Minster and up Goodramgate, Ambiente is the most authentic Spanish experience you could possibly find in York. They have a huge range of delicious- and I mean delicious- tapas. If you don’t order their paella, then you’re doing it wrong. Reasonably priced, with a wonderful atmostphere and insanely knowledgeable staff. Get yourself a jug of sangria and settle in for the night- with tapas you can just keep on going and going and…

3.The Lime House
CONFESSION: I work here. That doesn’t mean I don’t love coming to eat here, even if I twitch every time the phone rings in the middle of my meal (!). Come at lunchtime, ask for table three/four, order a large glass of white, the mushroom risotto to start, the duck for main and the sticky toffee pudding for desert, and thank me later. (Plus the service is golden, naturally).

2. Ning
I’ve already written a pretty extensive review of Ning York here, but it warrants another mentioning in my top five York eateries. Seriously good Malaysian food, I can practically still taste the Beef Rendang and Gado Gado salad. Yum

1. Nineteen
Nineteen, tucked away on Grape Lane, is my number one restaurant in York for pretty simple reasons. The food is delicious, the wine servings are generous, the rooms are so quintessentially York- creaky and quirky-, and the service was a charm. Order the trio of lamb and let it melt in your mouth. DO NOT forget to order the triple fried chips, because you will secretly harness a hatred for your boyfriend for denying you them for the rest of your life.

So, that’s it. I’d also like to shout out to Siam House, the best Thai food I’ve ever eaten, who only narrowly missed out on being on this list by inconveniently closing a few months ago. We miss you, Siam House.

Where did I miss off? Where should I go next? There’s so many places in York I can’t wait to get my jaws around…

“Don’t look if you’re squeamish.”

Not something you expect to hear in the middle of your lunch, but I guess rare birds don’t tend to make a habit of swooping, killing and eating a pigeon in front of a crowd. Not least while the crowd is halfway through their brocolli and goat’s cheese soup, anyway.

This is why I love the Lamb & Lion. Not because hawks murder pigeons in the courtyard on a regular basis (apparently that’s only happened once, we were -ahem- lucky to catch that spectacle), but because there really is something unusual about this pub.

Lamb and Lion, High Petergate

The food isn’t the always greatest in the world- the horseradish to beef ratio on my sandwich was too disproportionate for my liking, and I’m not afraid of a good hunk of spice- but the setting is wonderful. Candles light up every cranny of the crooked ceilings, everything seems like it’s eased into the building over a period spanning centuries. It feels like a proper York pub- one you couldn’t possibly imagine in any other city.

The service, unfortunately, has let it down before. Having been twice, I was once overcharged (my maths didn’t catch up with me until later that day, too late to ask for it to be recalculated), and when visiting with my parents, they managed to forget a main ingredient on my stepdad’s order. When asked where the bacon was in the “Poached egg and bacon salad” at the end of our meal, having had no chance to catch a waitress beforehand, we were told the chef was having a bad day, and we could have a slice of bacon brought out if we really liked. We politely declined.

Despite this, I wholeheartedly recommend this pub to everyone. Yes, the staff may have sort of bumbled through service, but I genuinely think they were honest, mistakes. They’re always lovely and pleasant, and the fact I’m overlooking being charged six quid for two half pints of coke to urge you to go should speak volumes, really.

The Lamb and Lion is the most York-esque pub in the city. The building is fascinating, and all food and drink is sourced locally. The rooms are a fantastic shabby-chic, and the service is well-meaning and the atmosphere is ideal for a good catch up and a little marvel on how beautiful this city is. And you might even catch a David Attenborough-style live show out of the window.

York

Out with the old: a nostalgic walk around campus

The home stretch: finishing my degree

The best restaurants in York

Lamb and Lion review: York’s most ‘York-esque’ pub