ROYAL Ascot, we are told, is the greatest show on turf. A festival of thrills, frills, frocks and shocks, York should be damn grateful to borrow it from Berkshire for a year.

Ah, yes, Ascot. Five days of unprecedented joy. From June 14 our population will double, offering us the chance to make new friends while queuing to reach the till/bar/kerb. And we'll finally get some use from our broad, empty roads and car parks.

Bafflingly, however, not everyone is overjoyed by the prospect. While the phrase "stampede for the exit" might be over-egging somewhat, a handy number of York folk is fleeing for the duration.

So much so that one city travel agent is putting together a range of special deals just for them.

A colourful sign on the window of Thomas Cook on Nessgate lures race-weary folk to "Escape York For Ascot Race Week". The idea came from customers, explained manager Linzi Bunney.

"Looking at the departure dates, we noticed we were getting a lot of inquiries for June, which is not traditionally one of our high early-booking months," she said.

"People were inquiring about one week in particular because they were thinking of being out of York during race week." The reason given was always the same: "We want to flee the madness."

Ascot will boost the city's profile and coffers, Linzi accepts, but she can understand how some residents view the prospect with dread. And being a kind-hearted soul (and a sharp-minded business woman) she has put together a few holiday deals on their behalf.

They include: a week in Cuba, all-inclusive, for £580; a two-night break in Prague for £153; or a week's B&B in Turkey for a family of three at £560. Just mind you don't get hurt in the rush.

A CONFESSION: the Jorvik Festival nearly got off to a bloodier start than was absolutely necessary.

The Diary's clan went to the living history display at York ARC on Saturday. Interesting it was too. The man grinding the flour suggested this activity was healthier than a modern gym workout (not that healthy, we decided: half of all Viking women pegged out at 35).

A burlier fellow entertainingly demonstrated Jorvik weaponry, and even allowed young Son of Diary to wield a metal sword. It was heavier than the little lad expected and when he let it drop, it sliced a whisker or two from our Viking's commendably bushy beard. He took the unexpected blow with impressive warrior stoicism.

Well, they said it'd be a slice of Jorvik life...

Updated: 10:50 Tuesday, February 08, 2005