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- Dec 2, 2005
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Round Yorkshire With A Knife: The Wizard’s Quest Part 3 – Ghosts, A Magician, & A Broken Time-Machine
Background: http://www.bladeforums.com/forums/showthread.php/1132966-I-hereby-issue-a-challenge-to-Jack-Black
Previous instalments -
Part 1: http://www.bladeforums.com/forums/s...rd’s-Quest-Part-1-Bad-Knight-In-Knaresborough
Part 2: http://www.bladeforums.com/forums/s...kshire-With-A-Knife-The-Wizard’s-Quest-Part-2
It’s rare that I don’t wake up before my alarm goes off, and so it was today. I got up, ate breakfast, had a look here, found out I’d won r8shell’s giveaway (Whoo!), and made coffee to take with me on the next leg of the Wizard’s quest. Today I was going to the ancient and historic City of York.
I looked at my watch; 9.05am, and my bus didn’t leave until 10.30am. I figured I’d take a slow walk into town first, and I took my time walking the one and a half miles into the centre of Leeds. I was still way early so I diverted to the market to have a quick look about and to wish some of the traders a Happy New Year.
At the tool stall, Big Paul and Ray were cheerful as ever, and particularly pleased to see me as they had a few knives. On the shelves where Ray displays his British beer memorabilia was an Ibbersons Action Knife, one of a range Ibbersons produced in the 70’s, when the historic firm was on its last legs. I told Paul and Ray all about the knife, but as I did so another regular punter stepped in and plucked it from the shelf. I offered him first refusal, and he took it. I never liked the big, ugly knives anyway, and would only have bought it for nostalgia’s sake, so I wasn’t bothered. The other two knives were a contemporary CK Wharncliffe and a simple Sheffield-made penknife. I was happy to advise as to price, but wasn’t really interested in either. I’m sure they were soon snapped up.
I’d have liked to chat to Paul and Ray for longer, and to have a better look round the market, but I thought I’d better head off to the bus-station. It was only when I arrived that I realised that I had been in a time warp since waking up, and that it was actually 45 minutes later than I had thought. It seems that my Citizen Eco-Drive solar-powered watch had stopped in the night!
Despite running late, I managed to board a bus, and set off for the jewel in the Yorkshire crown. An hour of real-time and I was there, stepping off the bus at one of the ancient walled city’s historic gates – Mickelgate. As well as being rich with history, York is rich with pubs, many of them hundreds of years old, and today Micklegate is more closely associated with a mammoth pub crawl called ‘The Micklegate Run’ rather than with invading Vikings. On a Thursday lunchtime, two days after New Year’s Eve, it was thankfully very quiet though.
When I had last visited York, a pleasant old gentleman, who runs a small antiques shop, had shown me a beautifully made old automatic knife. By coincidence an advert for the knife had been posted here by Old Hunter and so I had printed off a copy to show him. The walls of the shop are festooned with sword sticks, but he has very few pocket knives, and when he does they are expensive, and arguably overpriced. Fair enough, I’m sure he gets the prices he asks in York, which is a major tourist destination for visitors from all over the world. He’s a nice old chap and always up for a chat.
My Boker Jack atop York's ancient walls
As the weather was unusually good, I planned a circumnavigation of the city via the ancient walls, and set off by way of York’s ‘snickets’ and ‘snickleways’ to find my way back to the wall I’d crossed through at Micklegate. After finding it and walking half a mile or so along the wall though, there was a large gap of several hundred yards where the original structure had long disappeared, and so I had to descend back to street level. I decided to have lunch in a small park, which the last time I’d visited, was actually underwater due to the nearby River Ouse having burst its banks, as it frequently does.
York underwater on a previous visit
After I’d eaten, the weather suddenly changed and it looked like rain was imminent, so I decided to detour from my route and head for the market-place. Close to the market was an old merry-go-round in full swing.
York market takes place every day, and is always of interest, but I’ve never seen any knives on sale there before. However, on this occasion, I came across a stall selling various second-hand odds and ends, including a lot of old Sheffield table cutlery. Prices were surprisingly reasonable, but nothing particularly caught my eye. Further along the stall I spotted a few small pocketknives, unexciting but inexpensive, and I purchased a ring-opening penknife and a pipe-tool, together with a small plastic conversion chart advertising Brown & Sharpe Tools of Providence. I struck up a friendly conversation with the two stall-holders, and ascertained which days they stood, so that I could visit them again.
I passed through the market to the famous Shambles, an ancient narrow thoroughfare where the houses sit so close people can shake hands across the street. It tends to be so full of tourists it is virtually unpassable, but today was relatively quiet. Noticing a new ‘tavern’ on The Shambles, I called in to have a look, but as I was still wrong-footed by my broken time-machine, I had a coffee rather than a pint.
On the wall of the ‘tavern’ was a poster telling visitors about the numerous ghosts that haunted the building. There is scarcely a pub, cafe, or phone-box in York which is not supposedly haunted by any number of troubled spirits. I recently discovered that one of the city’s old hostelries is ‘officially’ the most haunted pub in Britain. I remember spending several very pleasant nights there in the 1980’s, and don’t recall any sign or sight of ghosts back then, nor any tourist leaflet about them for that matter. I did unfortunately briefly lock myself out of my room on one occasion while using the slightly off-suite bathroom. I just hope that one of the ‘ghosts’ seen haunting the establishment’s ancient corridors is not a trouser-less man wearing a Sargent Bilko T-shirt!
After drinking my coffee and examining my purchases a little more closely, I stepped out again into York’s narrow streets. Closeby, a loud-voiced street-entertainer in Edwardian apparel was reaching the climax of his no-doubt lengthy performance. At his instruction, two large members of the audience, stooges possibly, lifted him atop a bed-of-nails, and then a young boy was lifted to stand on top of the magician’s stomach. As I passed by he was promising the audience yet more drama, which involved fire-juggling. Having once seen a street juggler accidentally set fire to a woman’s coat, and countless audience members brained with flying clubs, I moved on quickly.
My next port of call was a large hardware shop, the tool section of which invariably stocks a few contemporary knives. There were fixed blade knives from Helle and Arthur Wright in a large floor-mounted display case, along with Leatherman tools, Opinels, and a variety of Victorinox SAKs. Nearby in a wall cabinet were a few Arthur Wright and Joseph Rodgers folders, along with some foreign imports. The range of Sheffield knives included a few rosewood-handled pruners and Ettricks, Spear-points and Clips, but no Lambsfoot or Sheepsfoot patterns, which I might have thought worth purchasing.
Outside the weather was gloomier still, and I slipped down more narrow snickleways, some so low I had to duck my head, to Stonegate, another of York’s best-known streets, and home to an antiques centre I wanted to visit. Among the overpriced odds and sods displayed in glass cases on two floors, along with a high preponderance of Nazi tat, much of it obviously fake, were a number of pocket knives and plenty of bayonets and sheath knives, but there was little worth a second glance. An old-looking Joseph Rodgers Spear-point Bowie, one of the few pieces worth looking at, commanded a price of £350!
While it had not yet begun to rain, the sky was looking increasingly dark and stormy, so I decided not to return to the city walls, and instead headed to another antiques centre, scoffing a Cornish Pasty on the way.
This impressive emporium faces York’s vast Minster, to which visitors are admitted for the price of a small family home, with guided tours extra. The antiques centre has the feel of a museum rather than a shop, and is in every way a big step up from the previous place. The multitude of display cabinets are filled with fascinating items, some dating back to Roman times, but prices seem to be more fairly calculated. A few knives were included among the display items, but they were mainly silver/MOP fruit-knives or ancient daggers commanding the sort of sums that might gain you admission to the cathedral opposite.
With daylight fading, I made my way by a section of wall to the bus-stop, where I boarded my return bus to Leeds.
So sadly, only a couple of meagre wee things today, no Quest-breakers, nothing for the Wizard.
The Hunt Continues!
Jack
Background: http://www.bladeforums.com/forums/showthread.php/1132966-I-hereby-issue-a-challenge-to-Jack-Black
Previous instalments -
Part 1: http://www.bladeforums.com/forums/s...rd’s-Quest-Part-1-Bad-Knight-In-Knaresborough
Part 2: http://www.bladeforums.com/forums/s...kshire-With-A-Knife-The-Wizard’s-Quest-Part-2
It’s rare that I don’t wake up before my alarm goes off, and so it was today. I got up, ate breakfast, had a look here, found out I’d won r8shell’s giveaway (Whoo!), and made coffee to take with me on the next leg of the Wizard’s quest. Today I was going to the ancient and historic City of York.
I looked at my watch; 9.05am, and my bus didn’t leave until 10.30am. I figured I’d take a slow walk into town first, and I took my time walking the one and a half miles into the centre of Leeds. I was still way early so I diverted to the market to have a quick look about and to wish some of the traders a Happy New Year.
At the tool stall, Big Paul and Ray were cheerful as ever, and particularly pleased to see me as they had a few knives. On the shelves where Ray displays his British beer memorabilia was an Ibbersons Action Knife, one of a range Ibbersons produced in the 70’s, when the historic firm was on its last legs. I told Paul and Ray all about the knife, but as I did so another regular punter stepped in and plucked it from the shelf. I offered him first refusal, and he took it. I never liked the big, ugly knives anyway, and would only have bought it for nostalgia’s sake, so I wasn’t bothered. The other two knives were a contemporary CK Wharncliffe and a simple Sheffield-made penknife. I was happy to advise as to price, but wasn’t really interested in either. I’m sure they were soon snapped up.
I’d have liked to chat to Paul and Ray for longer, and to have a better look round the market, but I thought I’d better head off to the bus-station. It was only when I arrived that I realised that I had been in a time warp since waking up, and that it was actually 45 minutes later than I had thought. It seems that my Citizen Eco-Drive solar-powered watch had stopped in the night!
Despite running late, I managed to board a bus, and set off for the jewel in the Yorkshire crown. An hour of real-time and I was there, stepping off the bus at one of the ancient walled city’s historic gates – Mickelgate. As well as being rich with history, York is rich with pubs, many of them hundreds of years old, and today Micklegate is more closely associated with a mammoth pub crawl called ‘The Micklegate Run’ rather than with invading Vikings. On a Thursday lunchtime, two days after New Year’s Eve, it was thankfully very quiet though.
When I had last visited York, a pleasant old gentleman, who runs a small antiques shop, had shown me a beautifully made old automatic knife. By coincidence an advert for the knife had been posted here by Old Hunter and so I had printed off a copy to show him. The walls of the shop are festooned with sword sticks, but he has very few pocket knives, and when he does they are expensive, and arguably overpriced. Fair enough, I’m sure he gets the prices he asks in York, which is a major tourist destination for visitors from all over the world. He’s a nice old chap and always up for a chat.
My Boker Jack atop York's ancient walls
As the weather was unusually good, I planned a circumnavigation of the city via the ancient walls, and set off by way of York’s ‘snickets’ and ‘snickleways’ to find my way back to the wall I’d crossed through at Micklegate. After finding it and walking half a mile or so along the wall though, there was a large gap of several hundred yards where the original structure had long disappeared, and so I had to descend back to street level. I decided to have lunch in a small park, which the last time I’d visited, was actually underwater due to the nearby River Ouse having burst its banks, as it frequently does.
York underwater on a previous visit
After I’d eaten, the weather suddenly changed and it looked like rain was imminent, so I decided to detour from my route and head for the market-place. Close to the market was an old merry-go-round in full swing.
York market takes place every day, and is always of interest, but I’ve never seen any knives on sale there before. However, on this occasion, I came across a stall selling various second-hand odds and ends, including a lot of old Sheffield table cutlery. Prices were surprisingly reasonable, but nothing particularly caught my eye. Further along the stall I spotted a few small pocketknives, unexciting but inexpensive, and I purchased a ring-opening penknife and a pipe-tool, together with a small plastic conversion chart advertising Brown & Sharpe Tools of Providence. I struck up a friendly conversation with the two stall-holders, and ascertained which days they stood, so that I could visit them again.
I passed through the market to the famous Shambles, an ancient narrow thoroughfare where the houses sit so close people can shake hands across the street. It tends to be so full of tourists it is virtually unpassable, but today was relatively quiet. Noticing a new ‘tavern’ on The Shambles, I called in to have a look, but as I was still wrong-footed by my broken time-machine, I had a coffee rather than a pint.
On the wall of the ‘tavern’ was a poster telling visitors about the numerous ghosts that haunted the building. There is scarcely a pub, cafe, or phone-box in York which is not supposedly haunted by any number of troubled spirits. I recently discovered that one of the city’s old hostelries is ‘officially’ the most haunted pub in Britain. I remember spending several very pleasant nights there in the 1980’s, and don’t recall any sign or sight of ghosts back then, nor any tourist leaflet about them for that matter. I did unfortunately briefly lock myself out of my room on one occasion while using the slightly off-suite bathroom. I just hope that one of the ‘ghosts’ seen haunting the establishment’s ancient corridors is not a trouser-less man wearing a Sargent Bilko T-shirt!
After drinking my coffee and examining my purchases a little more closely, I stepped out again into York’s narrow streets. Closeby, a loud-voiced street-entertainer in Edwardian apparel was reaching the climax of his no-doubt lengthy performance. At his instruction, two large members of the audience, stooges possibly, lifted him atop a bed-of-nails, and then a young boy was lifted to stand on top of the magician’s stomach. As I passed by he was promising the audience yet more drama, which involved fire-juggling. Having once seen a street juggler accidentally set fire to a woman’s coat, and countless audience members brained with flying clubs, I moved on quickly.
My next port of call was a large hardware shop, the tool section of which invariably stocks a few contemporary knives. There were fixed blade knives from Helle and Arthur Wright in a large floor-mounted display case, along with Leatherman tools, Opinels, and a variety of Victorinox SAKs. Nearby in a wall cabinet were a few Arthur Wright and Joseph Rodgers folders, along with some foreign imports. The range of Sheffield knives included a few rosewood-handled pruners and Ettricks, Spear-points and Clips, but no Lambsfoot or Sheepsfoot patterns, which I might have thought worth purchasing.
Outside the weather was gloomier still, and I slipped down more narrow snickleways, some so low I had to duck my head, to Stonegate, another of York’s best-known streets, and home to an antiques centre I wanted to visit. Among the overpriced odds and sods displayed in glass cases on two floors, along with a high preponderance of Nazi tat, much of it obviously fake, were a number of pocket knives and plenty of bayonets and sheath knives, but there was little worth a second glance. An old-looking Joseph Rodgers Spear-point Bowie, one of the few pieces worth looking at, commanded a price of £350!
While it had not yet begun to rain, the sky was looking increasingly dark and stormy, so I decided not to return to the city walls, and instead headed to another antiques centre, scoffing a Cornish Pasty on the way.
This impressive emporium faces York’s vast Minster, to which visitors are admitted for the price of a small family home, with guided tours extra. The antiques centre has the feel of a museum rather than a shop, and is in every way a big step up from the previous place. The multitude of display cabinets are filled with fascinating items, some dating back to Roman times, but prices seem to be more fairly calculated. A few knives were included among the display items, but they were mainly silver/MOP fruit-knives or ancient daggers commanding the sort of sums that might gain you admission to the cathedral opposite.
With daylight fading, I made my way by a section of wall to the bus-stop, where I boarded my return bus to Leeds.
So sadly, only a couple of meagre wee things today, no Quest-breakers, nothing for the Wizard.
The Hunt Continues!
Jack
, came home and got to read this latest installment of The Wizard's Quest. Thanks for the travelogue, it really is like going along on the trip. I wish I could write so well. I could tell stories about the characters I meet at Texas gun shows. Quite the contrast in atmosphere, but some of the characters are the same the world round.
