It’s a bright chilly morning. Once again, I’ve seen next to nothing of the town so far. I am out on the hotel balcony with coffee, looking out at the city wall and enough people in waterproofs that I could easily be in Denmark. Which I suppose is apt. Some big Norse beards happening here now, too. I’m here as Visiting Professor to talk about narrative, and York is a place of big old stories.
I might walk the walk later. Get the history under my feet again. Here we go.