Boom Time in the Walled City

I have recently started to do more work in the York area.

It is a natural progression from my longstanding sphere of coverage, or should I say semi-circle given that the southern extremity runs east to west from Spurn Point to Selby and the arc extends as far west as Thirsk and across the North Yorkshire Moors to Whitby.

In fact, forget any recognisable geometic shape, there is a closer resemblance to a ghost under a blanket akin to those regularly featured in the 1970's Scooby Doo Cartoons.

I am not a complete fresher when it comes to York. It has always been a destination whenever we have had visitors. In previous years it has hosted good and lively nights out with my cycling mates, on one occasion I went on a blind date which was a complete failure from my point of view but probably a blessing to the other party and the city was also the venue for a conference with a bunch of American Scientists from the Environmental Protection Agency who were in complete awe of the historic buildings and atmosphere.

York makes for a great day out and is also an interesting place to shop even for the most mundane of items. Most evenings the central area which contains the pubs and clubs becomes a satellite for partying groups from Newcastle and a bit of a wild time is had by all, whether pink tutu wearing bridal showers or heavy set and tattooed Geordie blerks.

The city attracts many thousands of tourists on an all year round basis and outside of London has maintained its top ranking status for the hordes of Japanese, American and German coach parties as well as large chattering crocodile lines of uniform rucksack toting overseas language students.

The mature visitors head for and congregate outside the Gothic Minster or pose for photographs at the Richard III museum at Monk Bar Tower. The younger students hang about outside the cultural centres that are McDonalds and HMV.

Having seen the jugglers, mime artists and buskers on a saturday in peak season I was genuinely surprised to find that they were also performing on weekdays as well. My weekend head allowed me to stand back and observe the entertainment but on one of my busy working days, frankly, I find the joviality and crowd pleasing a bit tiresome especially if I am trying to fight my way through the narrow, crowd thronged streets to get to a central city office.

The attractions of York justify pretty extortionate hourly charges in the surface car parks. This will have been part of a master plan to encourage use of the good Park and Ride facilities. This is however of no use to me on a monday to friday basis. I have worked out my own strategy to access the city centre for a typical requirement of ten minutes to pick up a set of keys from an estate agents premises.

That is the crux of the problem in that all of the main players are concentrated within the old walled city and therefore in the very heart of the congested tourist area.

The criteria for my very short term parking requirement is threefold.

1) A maximum of five minutes walk each way from car to pick up.

2) Free

3)Low risk of being subject to a fixed penalty charge on the street or clamping on private property.

I have now found two locations which satisfy the stringent conditions of the task.

One is a streetside parking bay just outside the walls which has a ten minute restriction period only. Most of the estate agencies are just about within range under scouts pace or an aggravated speed walking that results in very painful shin splints within a matter of seconds. The distance to be covered to avoid sanctions is just acheivable but only if I avoid getting into conversation with any of the office staff and deny myself a line in the queue at the enticing Cornish Pastie shop which I pass on the route, twice.

If I am further delayed by a large bunch of tourists blocking the pavement there is always that anxiety of sighting someone in a high viz jacket loitering around my car, notebook in hand. So far, I have managed to evade capture.

The other location I came across by accident.

York has a complicated one way and circulatory system which means that any loss of concentration or positioning in the wrong lane results in the need for another full orbit of the inner ring road. That can easily add another 20 to 30 minutes to the days travelling. Faced by a buses only lane I had to seek somewhere to turn around and edged into a narrow back alley in the shadow of the ancient walls. All of the vehicles in the street were liveried in the name of the telephone company and arranged in designated bays with chain link and locking posts clear of the brightly painted double yellow lines through the cul de sac. My silver car stood out as positively garish.

Just at the back entrance to a large glum looking building was a rectangular recess flanked by engineering brick plinths . This was devoid of any parking restrictions and with a bit of careful manoevring I could slot the car in quite neatly. A foot passage led through to the street of the estate agents effectively cutting down my pick up and drop off time to no more than two minutes each way.

I have kept the location a closely guarded secret so that it is always avialable to me when required. I do leave identification showing in the car when I leave it momentarily. This consists of my work tools including black plastic storage boxes, a battery pack, a holdall with other equipment, briefcase and a packed lunch wrapped up in silver foil.

I know exactly what is contained in these things but to a passing and observant citizen seeing a suspicious unattended vehicle parked up against the strategically important communications centre for the York region, the telephone exchange, I can appreciate it may arouse some excitement if notified to the authorities. Perhaps I may make my way back to the car one day to find that it has been the subject of a controlled explosion by the bomb disposal squad.