Rain slashes through the icy air, and our cheeks are a winter shade of pink. Lucy and I have met in York for, well, a couple of reasons: 1) so that she can buy clothes and 2) so I can see a friendly face. I always forget what a pretty place this city is. The cathedral looms over the Shambles like an off-white peacock. After strolling for a few hours, and chowing down on some Yorkshire grub, we venture upstairs into an oldy-worldy building. This is the "taxidermy pub," as Lucy calls it. And it's soon clear why!
It's a little off-putting sitting right underneath this wall. Nobody wants a stuffed
animal head landing in their cider on a Monday evening, do they?
The fire roars, the chit-chatter rings through the very cosy room, and the food looks AMAZING.
With a name like The House of Trembling Madness, how can you not want to visit this Tudor gem? Call in for a pint next time you're in York and get yourself the Viking Willy Salamis (what a name).