VWPilgrim

First published 17th June 2023

It was great to be back at home in the house that I grew up in. The rest of Monday was spent giving mum my washing and relaxing in the back garden. In the evening we had a nice pub dinner and a reasonably early night.

Whilst I was in the lake district I was becoming a bit concerned that I hadn’t heard anything from Manchester Cathedral. Other than the initial email conversation I had with the Dean, there had been no contact. This either meant they were quite relaxed and all was fine, or it had been completely forgotten about. I sent an email and left a couple of messages but no joy, finally, in the nice book/coffee shop in Pooley, I got a call. It was a Canon of the cathedral returning my call, he had, what I can only describe as a genuinely lovely, vicars voice. This was the Canon that the Dean had emailed me to say would look after me, as he would be away when I visited. I told him who I was, and to my initial concern, he said that he knew nothing about me coming. When I explained, he asked if I was leading the school service, no, the memorial service, er no, “the communion service at 1:10pm” I said. “Ah, you have made the mistake of assuming that I know what’s going on, the verger is here he will know.” I said to the Canon that what I have discovered on my pilgrimage is that the vergers know everything, “Yes, that’s true, it’s a little disconcerting” he replied. Thankfully, Gareth the verger, did know what was going on, and if I told him the make and reg of Molly he would get the bollards removed so that I can park in front of the cathedral. A smooth entry into the Cathedral in Molly, unheard of.

Despite speaking to Gareth, and feeling certain everything was in hand, I decided on Tuesday that I would catch the train from my parents into Manchester. I could introduce myself and work out the parking. On Wednesday I would be bringing mum and dad with me in Molly. I wanted to be confident about the parking, not so sure they would be too keen about climbing over barriers! When I arrived the cathedral was packed with hundreds of year 6 children from a variety of schools having their year 6 leavers service. It looked great fun, but I retreated to the coffee shop next to the cathedral and waited until they left.

At 1:10pm I went inside and attended the communion service and introduced myself.  The service was held in the Jesus chapel by the Canon I spoke to on the phone.  I asked afterwards why it was 1:10pm he said he didn’t know, but he would introduce me to the vergers.  Speaking to the vergers the next day they said the reason for the time was that church house was down the road. and it meant they could get there in their lunch break.  Only Church house is not there anymore,  still the time remains, for the moment.

Gareth wasn’t in yet but there was another verger William.  William showed me where the vestry was, the books and where I was going to preside.  We then looked at the parking and the bollards – “If they’re not down just drive through the pedestrian crossing” he suggested!

Another reason to go to Manchester was so that I could meet another nephew, Will. I had a few hours before he would arrive so walked about the city centre, which is so, so different to when I was last there in the mid 1990’s. To be honest I felt quite overwhelmed by the experience. I suspect it was because it was such a contrast to the places I had been in the last few weeks. The shops, bars, parks and streets were bursting with people, many rushing about with the Mancunian swagger, I knew well. This energy extended into the cathedral I noticed, no ‘loud hushed polite voices’ here as people came in, as they were outside, conversations and laughter wasn’t held back. Which made me smile.

I spent time in the regimental chapel, sitting under the flags. This is where, at a FURY youth event in 1987, I felt God was speaking to me, calling me to serve Him. I committed to God to working for him for a year. At the time I was in Sixth form, although talking with friends who were with me then, none of us are sure how I ended up there – or why! I was planning on following my passion and becoming a computer by programmer when I left school, but, OK, I will give you a year God.

This was a big decision for me and my parents. At the time, we all lived at home, if you weren’t heading off to university or the military, most people would stay, work and settle close by. I was accepted by an organisation called ‘Time for God’ and heading to central London to St John’s church, right next to Hyde park, to be the pastoral assistant. Years later, talking about this with mum and dad, I asked them why they let me go. They don’t regularly go to church and it must have been strange for them to hear their son say that God thinks he should go to London. It turns out that when dad was that age he had an opportunity to be an apprentice mechanic in Formula one, but this would mean leaving home, so his parents put a stop to it. He and mum never wanted to get in the way of our ambitions, and although, as they admit, they don’t always understand it, they have always been supportive, and proud.

I met Will, my nephew, at Manchester Piccadilly station. Will is a poet and a teacher, teaching a love of reading to secondary school pupils. I let him choose where to go for a pint, as I knew it would be cool place. Night and Day cafe in the Northern quarter of Manchester, certainly was cool. Cafe, bar performance space – great beer, nothing not to like. There was a band on, who were really rocking it, sounded great, giving there all as if they were headlining Glastonbury, even though it was only 6pm and about three people in the venue. We sat outside on the lively street and had such a good chat about family, poetry, faith and writing that I completely forgot that I hadn’t had my tea! I got the train home and met my younger brother, Paul, and his wife and son, who it’s always good to see. I wanted to say goodbye, as I was on my way the next day, Wednesday. The last communion in the cathedral and the last day of the pilgrimage.