Nick, the Assistant Director of Music, who organises Worcester’s lunchtime concerts, has looked after me very well. Concerts take place in the Quire, in front of King John. There are normally 40-70 people, Nick tells me, which makes a nice crowd in that space.
I can’t set up too early because, as a guide tells me, King John is the main attraction, and I mustn’t block access. Just as well I did my practice earlier, in the room with a view. Don’t worry, I have a heavy practice mute, which makes Libre almost silent; no-one was disturbed.
The Quire is full. I count 80 while Nick is introducing me. I still think it odd that it’s easier to perform to a full space than an empty one. Even after doing this nearly every day for six weeks it still feels overwhelmingly wonderful – offering my art (such as it is) to these people, in this place, on this day.
There’s a bit of Worcester cathedral deliberately left in a state of disrepair. Like many great cathedrals it didn’t fare well in the Civil War, and it continued to deteriorate until the Victorians restored it to its old glory. Nearly all the beautiful glass you see is less than 200 years old.
Which is about as old as I feel when I set off afterwards to ride nearly 50 miles to Coventry. After a performance I’m drained; I just want to lie in the sun with my eyes shut. Coventry is a long way away.
Still, the first several miles are flat and traffic free, along the Worcester and Birmingham Canal. The temptation to jump in the water is only moderate; it’s a soupy brown, and the sun isn’t as hot as it has been. The towpath is narrow, especially where it goes under the roads, and I live with the constant feeling I might end up in the water involuntarily anyway.
After the canal there’s more water. I pass through two or three dry fords, and two wet ones. Five mature off-road motorbikers pass me. I catch up with them half a mile further on, when a main road junction delays them. When we come to the biggest ford they whizz past me gleefully. I contemplate it for a moment, and then seek out the tiny pedestrian bridge instead.
All this water. Nearly all the lawns I’m passing – except those belonging to the very expensive houses on the edge of Kenilworth – are dusty and brown. In six weeks I’ve only been properly rained on for two days. Yes, in England! I’m thinking of the fifth of the Seven Last Words: I thirst. I’m not very good at keeping hydrated when I’m cycling, and I’m reminded of a recent lunch stop when I drank three and a half mugs of tea before tucking into a sandwich.
In the end I make reasonably good time to Coventry. Sam, the Manager, has been alerted by his front desk to the arrival of a bicycle too big to go in the lift. He’s prepared to be firm about it; it mustn’t impede any of his fire exits. After a bit of talk about cathedrals and long journeys he’s entirely satisfied with the arrangements – so much so that he carries half my stuff upstairs for me.
I’m far too tired to eat. My water bottle is drained. I’ll have a couple of cups of tea before I go to sleep.
Amazing that you keep up this blog. I hope it is some help to you. It certainly informs my prayers. Cheering you on from a distance.
I’m going to miss your posts. They’re a highlight in my day. As I read them I remember how moving it was to listen to the music and poetry at Southwark Cathedral. Thank you.
I can’t believe the miles you are travelling. I walked from Worcester to Birmingham in 1 day, but that was because of an emergency. I intended to take 2 days. And you never even mention what you did when you came to the canal tunnels and had to follow the horse paths over the tops! Then without pause you carry on to Coventry! That was a 3 day walk for me! I look forward to what you tell us about Coventry. Good wishes anyway.
Hi Kenneth so you made it to Coventry! Not an easy route on a hot afternoon. Well done ✅ I remember quite vividly my older teenage daughter cycling from Tardebigge, where she had parked up, right down the towpath to meet us at HER boat at the boat yard at the bottom in Worcester. We had misjudged it for her! I had a l-o-n-g and anxious wait in the developing gloom, hoping – fingers crossed – all would be well and that she wouldn’t get caught out somewhere and end up in the drink, bike, pride, confidence and all!! xx the relief when she made it was tangible! Phew! So we know you did well, with your delivery bike, cello and all!! I didn’t ask which route you were taking as you were quite anxious to be off but your planning was good – though a tad gruelling in this increasing heat – be very careful next week in the second heatwave of this summer! Cheers! Debbie x
Another inspirational and fascinating post from you. Each day is a pilgrimage in itself, never mind cycling to, between and from 42 Cathedrals, plus performances too!
It took me a couple of seconds to realize what a “retiring collection” is. What, you only hit up senior citizens? Or retired people? Didn’t seem fair, since we usually get discounts, not the other way around! But I guess that usage comes up occasionally here, to describe “a congregation retiring to the parish hall for a reception after the service” or “an army retiring from the battlefield”.
Six weeks wow.
It has passed by quickly from my sofa! I certainly appreciate your pilgrimage.
You should have a fair number of stops pocketed with but a few to go?