Thomas is up, bright and early, to ride with me for a bit. There’s a bit of mizzle, and a bit of traffic, and a bit of a hill, but we’re off to a good start. It’s very wooded in these Surrey hills, so we’re protected from the dampness in the air, and from the forecast wind. But there’s an incessant changing of gears, from one extreme to the other, as the road goes up and down.
The traffic prevents us riding side by side, except briefly and occasionally. But almost as soon as Thomas turns back I’m alone on much quieter roads, the Surrey Cycle Route, where more companionable riding would have been possible.
It isn’t too far to Chichester, 36 miles, but I’m aiming to be there for 11.30, to prepare for a lunchtime performance. So it’s head down and pedal most of the time, interrupted only by a rather breathless radio interview halfway up one of the hills.
Every house I pass is beautiful and expensive; every church beautiful and slightly unkempt. The day brightens up.
I’m almost on time in Chichester, where the first notice by the new glass West door announces my performance. So I can ride confidently into the building – or at least I could have done if there weren’t two little steps frustrating the planned grand entrance.
But I’m definitely expected, and it’s a simple matter to agree the set-up before I hot-foot to the cloister cafe for coffee and cake. Not for the first time though I’m handed an unopened box of books and programmes which the shop, despite correspondence, hasn’t engaged with. I’ve sent all these on ahead, and often they’ve sold well – and helped generate an audience – beforehand. I’m learning not to be disappointed when that doesn’t happen.
Chichester cathedral is one of the most beautiful. It’s full of art and wonder, from an excavated Roman mosaic, to a Marc Chagall window. The Chagall, installed in 1978, is titled David (Psalm 150). It throbs with vibrant red life.
After a performance that would have gone better if a sudden gust from an opened door hadn’t blown me onto the next page, Nick and Linda and I have a quick lunch, and a slow perambulation around the cathedral, inside and out.
Even the light – presumably first lit by gas – attached to the garden wall, is of stained glass. I would like to see it in the dark; but that won’t happen today.
The statue of St. Richard (sounds unlikely, doesn’t it), who was important in these parts, looks disconcertingly like one of the less trustworthy characters at Hogwarts.
But later, in the evening light, everything looks wonderful. Should I stay up to see the stained glass streetlight lit?
Thanks for sharing your blog of your visits to and concerts at the various cathedrals., recording your pilgrimage.
Chichester looks an amazing cathedral.
Hello Kenneth, Barbara here, we met in St Albans. I’m the one who walked between the 42 cathedrals. I am picturing your journeys and find it hard to believe you have propelled yourself to Southwark, Canterbury, Guildford and Chichester already, AND given your recitals in each. Like you, I loved the Marc Chagall window with ‘everything that hath breath praising the Lord in technicolour, with trumpets, cymbals etc. Sorry you weren’t keen on St Richard. I was glad to make his acquaintance there. Now I see I am behind the times and you have already performed in Portsmouth. I hope you liked the lovely white interior of the new part. Did you see the memorial to the Mary Rose sailors, and the wonderful golden weathervane.