York

 A dreamy ancient city of stone, music, water. We moor in our usual place, against the wide path below the Museum Gardens. Here  good friends from Switzerland join us, for laughter tears good food. Nearly 50 years of friendship. What a privilege.  We explore the ginnels and snickets of the medieval city,  walk the high stone city walls peering into the sometimes wild gardens surrounding the Minster.  JJ holds an European eagle owl in the Gardens, relative of Henrietta whom I held 3 years ago here. 

We face the problem of where to safely leave Santiago with canals closed, home mooring unreachable. As I write, this problem looms large.

In 2 days we leave York for the trip to L






eeds, where our friends depart for London and on to Switzerland. 

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