I decided against visiting the local York museum and instead visited the York tourist information centre to plan tomorrow's adventure. Mission accomplished, I returned to the church via McDonalds where I stole 6 sugar sachets. The homeless gentleman was still there. He grizzled at everybody and made two forays into the church and was gently escorted out again. The parishioners seemed to know him well. The only person he seemed to avoid was me. Perhaps he instinctively recognised the sort of moral reprobate who would steal sugar. I stuck my head inside and dimly saw a packed church through clouds of incense. Eventually Lyn emerged smelling very holy but rather unimpressed by the cold formality of the service.
Next adventure was another place of worship, the National Rail Museum. This incredible place is to railroads what the Vatican museums are to art. Housed in huge old rail sheds, the place is full of wonders, from Stephenson's Rocket to the Mallard, Flying Scotsman and Eurostar. Every imaginable sort of rail memorabilia can be found.