York

In 71ad, the Roman army invaded England's north. Led by the
governor
Quintus Pettillius Cervalis, the 9th Legion camped on the area of
land
where the rivers' Foss and Ouse converge. Here foundations were
laid
for what became a mighty fortress. The Romans named this place
Eboracum, known today as the city of York.

The Vikings settled in York, continuing their reputation as
murderous
brutes, following the decline of the Roman occupation. It must be
said
however, in their defence, many of them still found time to
practise
Christianity. It is doubtful that Eric Bloodaxe, York's illustrious
Viking King, obtained his name through kindly deeds.

The city boundaries are distinguishable by almost three miles of
medieval stone walls. High and imposing, these fortifications were
built as York's impregnable defence against invasion. Substantially
preserved, despite their turbulent history, they provide breathtaking
views of northern England's ecclesiastic capital.

Entrance to York can be gained through any of the four
gatehouses,
constructed across the city's main roads. Royalty always entered
through
Micklegate bar, however, which doubled as the perfect display area
for
the dismembered bodies of traitors.

Via Principalis, or Petergate as it is now known, runs along a
route
originally crossing the Roman Garrison. Its abundance of
Victorian,
Georgian and Medieval buildings have been converted, without
damage
to their characteristic facades, to offer gifts and memorabilia to the
eager tourists.

In York, every street tells its own remarkable story. Petergate is
no
exception, housing the hotel claimed to be the birthplace of Guy
Fawkes.
The Shambles, receiving world wide acclaim for its original
buildings,
remains one of the most picturesque streets in the country. It reveals
a
variety of fascinating craft shops, incorporating the shrine of
Margaret Clithero, who was executed by crushing for her catholic
faith.

Stonegate is a favourite of the tourists. A selection of medieval
dwellings have retained their frontage of timber frames, whilst others,
dominate the paved road with their extended gables.

With its secluded passages and wretched history, tales of hauntings
are
plentiful in York. Tormented ghouls ranging from ragged legionnaires
to
The 2nd Duke of Buckingham are sought out, during twilight guided
tours,
by the more audacious of tourists.

In bygone days, rape, pillaging and prostitution were rife in York.
Grape Lane, aptly named with its medieval definition meaning grope, was
one such street of iniquity. With a narrow walkway and low hanging
ceiling it was perfect for such immoral trade.

Dick Turpin, the infamous highwayman, met his end on York's
gallows,
having been apprehended for horse theft. His spartan gravestone is
still
visible in St George's churchyard, despite the demise of the
original
church.

Combining York's annals of corrupt behaviour, with its historical
villains and rogues, visitors could be forgiven for concluding the city
to be a monument to depraved society. However, there exists one
redeeming splendour.Scaling 200 feet tall, 500 feet long and 100 feet
wide, York Minster dominates the skyline.