Sheffield: The North Remembers, Especially Football

Sheffield, United Kingdom
April 2018 

Since we planned on living in London for a while, Yannick and I bought a ‘Two Together’ railcard which gave us discounts on train tickets as a couple travelling together. This would allow us to take short trips to see towns and cities in the UK more often.

Fabienne, who was studying in Sheffield, was kind enough to invite us up to stay with her for a weekend and we happily obliged, catching the train on a morning in early April.

The land that now holds Sheffield has been inhabited for around ten thousand years, and as such the area is rich with culture. The world’s oldest existing football club (Sheffield F.C.) was founded here, and almost all forms of Morris dancing are practiced. I knew very little about the folk dance so I fell down a rabbit hole of research on the topic and discovered that the Yorkshire Longsword variety is one of my favourites.

On one morning we visited Kelham Island in the north of the city to get a glimpse into Sheffield’s Industrial Revolution roots. Steel became an important part of the economy with several groundbreaking inventions beginning here, including Harry Brearley inventing stainless steel in 1912. Further into the century many industrial towns floundered with the advent of cheaper assemblies overseas, and Sheffield was a particular target for bombing during WWII as steel factories were used to manufacture weapons. Luckily Sheffield has managed to stay afloat due to its renowned universities and now boasts a large student population.

Perhaps this added to the alternative vibe – street art was prominent, and cosy pubs and cheap eats were around every corner.

While some historical buildings were unharmed during the war, such as the Town Hall, much was reconstructed after the war. The worst of the attacks took place on the twelfth and fifteenth of December in 1940, an event now referred to as the Sheffield Blitz. Tragically, many lost their lives and parts of the city were razed.

Modern developments have added a richness to the city, with the lovely Winter Gardens allowing visitors to enjoy greenery all year round in an airy greenhouse. This is neighbouring the outdoor Peace Garden which connects to the Town Hall, transitioning from new to old flawlessly.

Fabienne’s flat was just a couple of blocks away from Sheffield Cathedral, another example of the blend of ancient and contemporary. The oldest part can be traced back to a smaller church on this site from the thirteenth century, the altarpiece is medieval, and extensions were made in the 1960s.

In the late 1990s the skylight tower was updated with stained glass designs by Amber Hiscott.

Of course we couldn’t miss an evening at one of Fabienne’s local haunts: the Frog and Parrot. We sipped and chatted the night away with her very welcoming friends, and we felt the warmheartedness of the North.

Before returning to London we all took a day trip to York, which will be my next post.

March & April 2018 Recap

At last, I was back in London to stay! Posts on 2018 to come will include month recaps and our trips to Sheffield, York, Oxford, Ireland and Northern Ireland, Rye, Colchester, the island of Vis in Croatia, Cambridge, Paris and Disneyland. ‘Twas a glorious year!

Excited to be able to see my friends again, I met up with Ally and we visited Richmond Park in south west London, where roving herds of deer graze! They are fairly accustomed to people so on our walk we were able to observe them closely and even caught glimpses of a couple of stags off on their lonesome amongst the trees.

Although French and Spanish food is amazing (…let’s just not bring up German food), I was happy to be back in the UK for a dazzling array of vegan goodies. With Yannick and friends I visited the punderful Temple of Seitan (which had newly opened up their Camden shop), Brick Lane market, Mildred’s, Broadway market, Pizza Pilgrims, Gail’s, and Crosstown Doughnuts. A feast, so it was!

I had begun looking for work but continued to walk with Yannick to work most days. Shortly after we both received a lovely hand knitted scarf from my grandma Susan, it snowed in London and we were so happy for the extra warmth.

I also continued to explore the city, and as my mood had improved dramatically from when I was away on my visa run, I actually looked forward to getting out of bed every morning. Primrose Hill was a place I returned to again and again because of the colourful houses juxtaposed against barren foliage.

St Pancras Station was a building I could look at every day and not grow tired of, which is impressive as train stations can be massive eyesores.

Another place that stood out were the posh districts of Chelsea and Kensington, where I walked with the friend I had stayed with in Spain.

While the areas that rich people lived were awe inspiring, I also loved the less gentrified areas like Kentish Town and Bethnal Green.

Before long I was hired by a housing association whose main office was in the City of London. Living in a place filled with history was breathtaking enough, but to go to work just off Fleet Street, one of the most ancient parts of the city, was something else altogether. Many people are unaware that Fleet Street is named for the River Fleet, an actual river that ran from Hampstead down to the Thames. The river became increasingly polluted as the city grew, with Alexander Pope basically referring to it as a muddy discharge for dead dogs to flow downstream. In 1766 the waterway was diverted to flow underground, and is now essentially a sewer.

Fleet Street has been known as the headquarters of many printing houses (in part due to tax reasons), including such names as the Daily Telegraph. As rent rose, slowly the newspapers moved with only a few smaller operators remaining. To this day you can see ghosts of advertisements on the sides of buildings for certain publications, some of which no longer exist. (For slightly more info, read The History Of London’s Fleet Street In 1 Minute.)

Another reason that printing houses had cropped up here was production of court documents, due to the proximity of legal institutions such as the four Inns of Court (this is where solicitors do their business and honestly I can’t wrap my head around anything more than that). Each of them has a complex of buildings that only fancy people can enter, and a lovely park that the public can visit. My most frequented was Lincoln’s Inn, as it was between my and Yannick’s workplace. As you can see in the above photo, there was plenty of space for everyone to enjoy the sun and their picnic lunches.

Perhaps confusingly, many small streets (or more exactly, alleyways) off Fleet Street are called Courts. My work was located on Red Lion Court, just around the corner from Ye Olde Cheshire Cheese, a pub originally built in 1538 and frequented by Charles Dickens (and other literary notables) in his time.

Much of the infrastructure of this area was destroyed in the Great Fire of London in 1666 and rebuilt, including St Pauls’s Cathedral in this distance of this photo. Pudding Lane, where the fire is said to have started, is not far away (though Drury Lane of Muffin Man fame is even closer). It was so surreal to see these names on my lunch break on the way to Sainsbury’s and Pret!

For a day trip in April, Yannick and I visited St Albans and I regaled him with tales of the roman martyr who lost his head for converting to Christianity.

I had learned all this from my previous visit to the city with my friends who had grown up there and moved to London, but I had also brushed up on the history in case I was passing along hearsay.

We visited several different historical sites including the Roman theatre. Interestingly this is not the typical amphitheatre layout, but had a set stage area which can be difficult to discern now. Built in 140AD, the city was then known as Verulamium.

Apparently the land that the theatre is on belongs to the Earl of Verulam and is not always open to the public. Is this his house? I would like to believe so.

Papers Please! France – February 2018

Reims | Orléans | St-Pierre-des-Corps | Tours | Amboise

Making the absolute best of my situation, I decided to spend a day in each Reims and Orléans on my way to the house sit (which was located in a town near Tours).

My AirBNB in Reims was in an apartment building two minutes’ walk to the Cathédral Notre Dame, where twenty five royal coronations took place between 1223 and 1825 (arguably the most notable of which was that of Charles VII, supported by Joan of Arc).

When Julius Caesar’s forces conquered Gaul, the local Remi tribes (a group of people from the region known then as Belgica) joined the Romans. The city was known as Rhēmi, which has been corrupted slightly over the ages to form the modern name. The statue of king Louis XV “the Beloved” in the Place Royal shows the monarch in a toga with a laurel frond about his head.

One of the main cities in the Champagne region, there are apparently thousands of litres of the bubbly stuff ageing in caverns under the city. When walking down the street, imagine the countless bottles below, waiting to be poured!

In Orléans I stayed in a house a short walk from the centre. There is so much history shrouding this city that I could barely begin to expound upon it.

Jean d’Arc, one of the most celebrated people of France, is commonly referred to as the Maid of Orléans. This is not because she was born here, but rather because she helped lift the siege of Orléans in 1429 – it would be her first victory since joining forces with the army.

A long boulevard leads up to the cathedral, which becomes ever more impressive as you draw near. Jean d’Arc attended evening mass here, and in commemoration of her triumph the stained glass windows tell her story.

Trying something new, I utilised the website www.blablacar.com which allows you to pay for a seat in someone’s car, like carpooling for a fee. Luckily a lady was driving to Tours on the day I was going and after a bit of a miscommunication about which area of the Orléans train station carpark to meet at, I was on my way to the last house sit!

My host collected me from Tours and drove me to her house in the neighbouring St-Pierre-des-Corps, where I met Attis the kitten. One morning it snowed, and as he was only six months old, this was the first time he was experiencing the frozen delight. His hesitant paws became more bold and his reaction was so cute.

St-Pierre-des-Corps was small but had a well-appointed supermarket, and a knick knacks market once a week in front of the town hall. Its odd name, which translates to “Saint Pierre of the bodies”, refers to the fact that this area was a cemetery in Roman times for those living in Tours.

Tours had a bit more magic to it, with rows of centuries-old half-timbered buildings and cobbled streets.

The cathedral was formidable, both in the English sense of ‘powerful’ and invoking fear, and in the French sense (“c’est formidable!”) of ‘great’.

The way the stained glass windows cast multicoloured spangles on the walls and across the virgin Mary were especially memorable.

For my last hurrah before returning to the UK, I took a train to the nearby town of Amboise.

It had snowed overnight leaving tracts of slush along the walkways, and the smooth paving in front of the Château Royal d’Amboise was rather slippery.

If I had been paying attention to my feet this would have posed no problem, but it proved such a lovely place that I was staring around in awe the whole time. Photos seem dull and withered in comparison.

A short walk led me down the Rue Victor Hugo to a palace by the name of Le Clos Lucé, which is best known as Leonardo da Vinci’s residence for nearly fifty years until his death in 1519. He had been invited to stay by François I and created works of art, architecture and engineering for the king.

On my way back to the station (where I saw a baguette vending machine – so French!), I popped into a chocolatier to treat Yannick to a selection of chocolates. When I returned to the house sit, I cranked the electric blanket way up and wiggled my feet under the covers because Attis enjoyed pouncing on my hidden toes. I would miss the little fellow. The Tours airport is minuscule and having grown accustomed to arriving hours early for a flight, I was the first person there aside from one staff member who patently ignored me. The trip back passed quickly and I was unspeakably happy to be reunited with Yannick and back in London.