I had a simple plan.
Take The Boy Child to York by train.
Meet Mum there.
Go to the National Railway Museum.
Explore within the City Walls.
Stare at the majestic beauty that is York Minster.
Stay overnight in a hotel.
Go to the National Railway Museum again.
Say goodbye to Mum.
Get the train back to London.
That didn't happen.
The train sat at a station for two hours after the train ahead of us brought down the overhead power lines.
Mum had checked us in to the hotel, which was conveniently next to the station. Bag drop, supper (if you can call it that) in a well known burger place and an evening stroll.
The Boy Child was taken with the street theatre.
The street names made us laugh.
Can you imagine living in a place where a road was built/named in 1505?
Bedtime for The Boy Child.
Hotel fire alarm sounded at 03.50 hours. Building evacuated. I was very glad Mum had read the Fire Evacuation Plan on the back of our room door.
Nice looking hotel, isn't it?
They say that things come in threes.
In Part Two, we finally make it to the National Railway Museum.