No cycling today, other than a bit of parading through York, to the Minster and back. But I’m fielding radio interview requests from early morning – including more than one where the suggestion is that I “just pop into the studio”, 200 miles away.
Those weren’t the only misunderstandings. I was denied entry to the Minster, when I told them I was due to perform in a couple of hour’s time.
Eventually I gave in to the man at the door, and accepted his suggestion that I consult with the police, at the other end of the building. Paddy, padded out with quite a lot of riot gear, wasn’t very keen either. I went through 30 emails, looking for the one which said that bicycle entry was specifically – and exceptionally – permitted, and couldn’t find it.
No money changed hands, but an Irishman appreciates a bit of blagging, so at last I’m inside, with a police escort, and surrounded by vergers who are all expecting me, and want to do everything possible to help.
Up three short flights of steps, and into the quire. “We thought this would be a good place,” they say. It certainly is. You can see the largest expanse of medieval glass in the world behind me, and Gillian’s paintings, and their golden reliquary, glow under its gaze.
A chaplain is giving out some notices, broadcast throughout the cathedral, just before the noon prayers. But he lost his script. “I’ve forgotten what he’s playing, but he’s playing something; 1pm in the quire, after the eucharist.” When I saw him, after the eucharist, he was very apologetic. I assured him there was no need for apology.
You pay a lot of money to get into York Minster, and you don’t want to miss anything. So the Meditation is performed in a slightly less meditative atmosphere than it was yesterday in Ripon. People pointing their cameras upwards at windows and carvings are often oblivious of what is actually happening beside them. I have to concentrate. And turn up the volume when a primary school group goes by. But this is good practice – meditation, too, should be a bit oblivious to distractions.
The person with whom I exchanged so many emails drops briefly by, tells me off for bringing the bicycle into the space, calls me Keith, and goes away again.
When I’ve packed everything up, I leave the bike where it is – clearing the trespass with the cathedral police first – and pay my fee to climb the tower’s 275 steps. The view across the roof to the West towers is truly magnificent.
Good to hear that you managed to do your concert at The Minster.
It is an amazing cathedral and I’ve visited myself from childhood onwards.
By the way, if you are attending a service at the cathedral, there is no charge for entry to The Minster.
Hopefully communication regarding your planned concerts would improve as you undertake your musical pilgrimage at the various Anglican cathedrals.
Your rest day off the bike will have been needed, before you set off again.
Hi Kenny,
I am just astonished at your determination — not only before you ever set out (and all the logistics that were involved) but even now, when everything was supposedly set, it is only by your sheer persistence that you are able to complete your pilgrimage. (And you even had to pay to go to the top? AFTER having given a free concert???) It is all about INTENTION I guess. You intend to do this and by God or by George — you will. Wow.
I do look forward to reading your daily posts, you do have some unexpected challenges. I’m sure that there is also plenty of support as well.
I do believe that the lessons from “Orange Dust” will serve you well with Expectations and Meditations!
41 miles on a cargo bike through Leeds onwards to Bradford, having travelled from York, and then your concert in the afternoon is a mega effort, “Chapeau” to you!
I was born in the West Riding, so I can relate to your journey and visually imagine it.
It is fascinating to read your blogs and to follow your pilgrimage, hearing how you overcome the inevitable hurdles, give your concert and even find time for reflection too.