Four man protest against Tony Blaire

York, old church walls
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We left Climate Camp on the morning of the second, just as it started to drizzle, and made our way towards York. Needless to say, it didn't stop raining, but instead began to pour. We were soaked to the bone, it was raining so hard it was nearly impossible to see. Nate led the way, and various turns led us on a big detour and back to the busy road we'd worked so hard to avoid. We arrived at the York train station, where they don't have bins due to the threat of bombs, and each took our turn underneath the hand drier in the bathroom.

Wind blown street performer
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We slept in shifts due to our central location and woke half rested sunday morning. After Tony returned from church bearing an enormous breakfast he and I took a walk around the city walls. Amazing to say the least, the old walls have been repaired so as to accommodate walking tours, and the view of the city gives a good idea of what it must have been like when the walls were built for functionality. We walked most of the way around before being sucked into the city center. We found ourselves a good place to busk and Tony began juggling as I continued to window shop. When I returned Tony had attracted an enthusiastic Devil Stick performer named Sam, I took my turn on the stage and returned to my seat to convince Sam to travel with us. Some chatting ensued and Sam supplied us with gear he wasn't using, which was very helpful. We headed back to the train station where we left Nate in charge of the stuff and soon after Tim and Matt arrived in York. Tim and Matt are bicycologists that had also attended Climate Camp. Tim invited the three of us to stay on his mum's living room floor and we gratefully accepted. We cycled back to Tim's and enjoyed a wonderful english meal with Tim, his mum, June, Matt, Nate, Tony and me.

notice how the buildings are leaning into eachother
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Tim gave us a good tour of the city and we met up with Sam a couple more times. We had decided as a group that York would be our splitting point. The ride in the rain had convinced Nate that north was not the direction he wanted to go. He was going to head back to Leeds and see where his connections led him as Tony and I rode north to see if we could run into a real challenge. The last few days as a trio flew by and ended with a four man protest of Tony Blaire. I may not have the facts right but here's a shot. Tony Blaire came to visit a retirement community in New Earswick, the suburb of York where Tim grew up. We hung a huge banner saying No Nuclear across the street from the building hosting the Tony's speech. We blasted music from Pedals, the dynamo-stereo from bicycology, occasionally interrupted by Tim's righteous speeches to counter Mr. Blaire and draw peoples attention. Tony, Nate and I talked to locals and juggled under the watchful eye and probing cameras of the police. It was amidst the madness that I met a woman whose son had returned from the war with sever PTSD. He was refused treatment and she has been refused any answers. She and I talked about the war and what people in her position can do. It was not a new concept, the government ignoring the people it harms, but the dispair this lady held in her words was very moving to say the least. The protest ended without a climax as we spotted Tony Blaire's entourage slipping out the back. We returned to the house, finished packing and repairing our bikes and rode downtown to meet up with Sam. The next chapter began before we even realized it.