It is hot and it is busy, but the face is always on my mind. So I do what always draws me away from rumination: I walk and lose myself amongst the hustle. I think the usual routes through York might overwhelm me, so I seek refuge in the city's magical snickelways, turning wonder into movement until the golden hour and beyond

York's network of medieval lanes, ginnels and passages were affectionately christened "snickelways" by writer and artist Mark W. Jones.

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