Nearby was one the most unusual stately home I've ever been to. Duncombe Park. The house itself was stunning:
The house was closed but the "gardens" were open. Admission was 5£ but there was no one there to take it, just a money box with a slot on top and a price list. I don't even think the box was fixed to the table. Once we got in the place was deserted. No staff at all and we saw maybe 5 or 6 other tourists on the whole property. Also, no gardens as in with flowers except for two marked private. In one of these there was a playhouse and a kids wading pool and three children running around in swimsuits oblivious of the fact that theirs is not a normal childhood.
The grounds were extensive and had the necessary temples
atmospheric walks
and hidden conservatory.
But with no people, no signs, no history, and no maps plus it was all run down with paint and plaster coming off it felt more spooky than grand or inviting. It felt like what it must be: a small family's too big home opened to the public in the most slap dash way imaginable to glean whatever pounds show up in the honesty box in order to provide upkeep and pay taxes on the whole thing. My God, the place didn't even have a tea room. Up until yesterday I had thought that public sites were not allowed to take tourist money unless they had a tea room.
Then on to our next stop where this happened:
More on York in the next exciting episode of Steven and Victoria's excellent adventure.
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