I went to bed last night feeling sorry for myself, reciting a litany of my complaints about life. So this morning I’m reminding myself there’s no-one to blame but me. I chose this.
The road is often lonely, and every cheery greeting that elicits only a blank stare saps a little bit of energy. And more than once I’ve felt my cheery greeting to a cathedral has been met with a blank stare too.
But so what? I’m not doing this to be safe, or comfortable. Mood swings are to be expected; they should be observed and acknowledged, but not indulged. And, I remind myself, I’m not quite such a wreck as Thetford Abbey – at least, not yet.
Today’s ride is beautiful. I love flint-faced buildings, and the countryside is full of lovely flint houses, some of them old, but many of them new. And flint churches. The best.
I’m riding through more forest. I stop at a beautiful glade of beech trees, where the sun makes pretty patterns on the bare ground. I stopped to look at lovers’ promises carved into the bark. Now I look at them I see that a good number are memorials to dead children. Sad; but beautiful as the trees slowly grow over the pain.
There’s a pair of huge towers, quite out of place in this placid countryside, and not far off route, which I can’t pass by. The towers turn out to belong to Wymondham Abbey. Inside there are Norman arches enough for any great cathedral, a medieval roof carved with magical creatures, and a grand gold rococo screen put up for fun in 1921. But I’m dawdling; I must press on to Norwich.
I don’t have an image in my mind of Norwich’s cathedral, and entering the town centre there are about 17 great ecclesiastical buildings that could be cathedrals – or so I thought until I saw the real thing, which sits in a Close about the size of Regent’s Park. There’s no mistaking it now.
More fabulous Norman arches, with their great thick pillars – including a pair of spiral fluted ones – and treasures ranging from medieval painted ceilings, to a 14th century pelican lectern. The deeply polished copper font is a later addition, pensioned off after a lifetime’s work in a local chocolate factory. It doesn’t look out of place.
Perhaps the biggest sit-down audience I’ve had to date, a nice welcome and post-performance blessing from Canon Aidan, lots of generous thanks, and a pair of vergers who would rather look after the bike in the cathedral’s storeroom than see it at risk on Norwich’s night-time streets.
So I’m a lot happier than I was last night. The trouble is, I’m telling myself gently, this is a pilgrimage, and if it relies on the kind of external validation I’ve had all day today, well what does that say about the intention of the heart?
Don’t take yourself too seriously, old fellow. Walk a mile across town to a good Indian restaurant, where perhaps you’ll meet a Scottish singer called Alex, with a touch of an old Polish accent, and talk, and laugh, about life, the universe, and everything.
Hi Kenneth,
I popped over to the St Edmundsbury Cathedral at about 6. 35. Did I miss your performance at 6.15 ?
It has been a very windy, and wet at times, I was wondering if you had made it on time.
All the best to you in your tour, all power to your elbow for playing and also to your legs for cycling !!
Already a third of the way on your pilgrimage, well done and and now a good fair few cycles miles under your belt.
I appreciate your photos of both the cathedrals and the sights that capture your interest on the journey, they really do enhance your blog.
Having cycled a long distance in France, now some ten years ago, I can identify with your musings on your cycle ride and the highs and lows, but the general kindness of people that you meet on the way (well most people that is) I found, restores one faith and gives such a positive and often an unexpected a boost.
Your book of your journey from Hadrian’s Wall to Rome is entitled “Highway Cello” as is this blog.
What thoughts do you have for the title of this pilgrimage as I assume that your blog will eventually become the basis for a future book for you to write and record your thoughts?
Hi Kenny,
Every single day I send you heartfelt greetings from across the world.
Hi Kenny,
I played a Mazurka for Ilse’s Hang on Sunday. After I finished, she had me play just the rhythm for a few minutes (A A A, 1,2,3) and then had me play the Mazurka again. I couldn’t immediately hear any difference but EVERYone thought my second performance was much better! So now I’m fooling around at home and learning to hear the difference, too. Hooray for external validation and external ears!
Speaking of pilgrimages, I’m reading a memoir by a sailor who says on page one: “It’s usually about the third or fourth night of a small-boat cruise when I start wishing I were home. Don’t get me wrong. I love sailing and cruising little boats, but after three or four days aboard a little boat, the comforts of home begin to look really, really good.” This is the Foreword to a book called Three Years in a 12-foot Boat in which Stephen Ladd DOES sail for three years in a twelve foot boat that he built himself.
Hugs!
I was brought up in Norwich and remember the chocolate smell from Caley Mackintosh- I think that was the name.
I am therefore biased but think Norwich cathedral the finest in England-sorry Salisbury
Hi Kenneth, I hope you sleep peacefully tonight. Your posts are a daily treat and an inspiration. A friend introduced me to a local pilgrim walk, a mere 12 miles with 7 small churches tucked away in the South Downs. We’re looking forward to being with you at Southwark Cathedral on Saturday.
Just catching up with your blog after a few hectic family days. Last time I checked in you were in Southwell, and it’s astonishing that you’ve reached Norwich already! Thinking of you each day though. Baptism in a chocolate bath sounds like a blessed thing indeed! Love and hugs.