VWPilgrim

First published 11th June 2023

Caroline, who I’d been at college with, sent me a message saying that I would go past her house on the way to Carlisle from Durham, she lives in Swaledale (All creatures great and small country), and I’d be welcome to stay on her drive. I decided that it would be good to the scenic route, through Barnard castle (my eyesight is fine) and over the top. It was the drive over the top which was the challenge.

Mostly single track, blind steep hills, blind corners, hairpins and sheep.  The sheep had the same sort of attitude as the lycra clad cyclists in Richmond park and the students and tourists in Durham.  I was a nuisance, this is their road, and they weren’t keen on getting out of my way!  Molly spent quite a bit of time in 2nd gear, occasionally needing to go down to 1st for some hills as I gripped the steering wheel tightly.  

Once I got to the top the view was incredible, exactly the view that a VW ‘Bay Window’ camper is made for,  I kept stopping to take pics, and to let Molly catch her breath.  A red triangle sign said I was coming to another hill, 17%, what does that even mean?  I still work in ‘old money’ when it comes to hill gradients, 1 in 4, (1 unit climbed for every 4 units along).  I did discover that it means bloody steep!  Up and down the blind hill made me feel like I was in a slightly out of control rollercoaster.  Eventually, I headed downhill to Caroline’s, she heard me coming and came out to meet me, but as I stopped there was an ominous rattle from the ‘noisy cupboard’ (engine bay), must have a look at that in the morning. Pulling into the drive I headed off to the toilet (Hello, hug, nice to see you, loo? Has become the liturgical greeting developed over the pilgrimage) When I told Caroline which way I came her face was a picture, “You came over ‘The Stang’ in that!”  She dug out the OS map to show the route and the closeness of the isobars which the SatNav doesn’t tell you.

After a cuppa in the garden, Caroline took me in her car on a whistle stop tour of the 4 churches of which she is vicar.  Her parish covers the length of Swaledale, and is a huge 250 square mile area! My parish, by contrast, you can cycle through in 10mins. Caroline put to good use her off road driving course skills as we hurtled around the country lanes a lot faster than Molly and I ever dared.  It was great to see the churches, each with it’s own unique character and amazing view. Lovely to hear what God is doing in such a rural setting, and the amazing imagination that she has used to extend the ministry there. After dinner and  a couple of glasses of wine it was time to set Molly up for the night and head off to sleep, must have a look at that rattle in the morning.

First thing Tuesday morning, I got up and borrowed Caroline’s desk to write and stare at view, honestly don’t know how she gets anything done!  Quick breakfast and hello to the soon to be ordained curate of a neighbouring parish and it was time to check in with Molly.  The driveway was surprisingly level given the area.  I checked the oil, a little top up wouldn’t hurt, and I discovered the source of rattle.  A jubilee clip holding an air hose had come away, probably in shock.  Following John Muir’s advice in his book (How to keep your VW alive) I had packed every tool, socket, spanner, spare, that he recommend, so I had what I needed on board for an easy fix and I was on my way.  Caroline had showed me a safer but longer route out of the dale.  Longer, but at least the prettiest part of the M6 there is.

I arrived in Carlisle, early Tuesday afternoon. Each cathedral has presented it’s own unique challenge of access, Carlisle’s was, it’s one way system and ring road. I circled around, a number of times, I could see the cathedral but couldn’t work out how to drive there. Molly got a thumbs up (happens a lot) and a cheeky grin from a very tall young man with stripy shorts. So I wound my window down and asked if he knew how to get to the cathedral. “What Cathedral?” he replied, “one behind you!” Just then an angel appeared, in the disguise of a very jolly looking lady in a small red VW Up. She mouthed ‘the cathedral’ pointing behind her, then pointed at Molly mouthing ‘in that?’ I nodded, ‘follow me’! Then we were off down some wiggly roads and suddenly at the front of the cathedral, with a cheery wave, she disappeared down another ally, we tooted back our goodbye and pulled through some rather lovely iron gates.

Not that it’s a competition, and all the cathedrals have been welcoming, but Carlisle, by far, up to now, is the most relaxed and the friendliest! As I pulled up Michael (the Canon Missioner who I had been in touch with by email) was just leaving to set off for his holiday. He very happily guided me in and showed me where to plug in. We had a chat about how the drive was, (his face matched Caroline’s when I said I came over the Stang yesterday) and the joys of old VW ownership. Then, when my electric hook up cable was frustratingly a metre short he went off on search of an old one hat he had from the days he had an old Nissan Camper (but he always wanted one of these he said). Then he off he went on his holiday.

Soon after, the verger came bounding over with a big smile and a handshake and welcomed me.  I’d noticed a sign saying that the gates would be closed at 6pm.  I was meeting someone in the pub that evening so I asked how I would get back in.  He told me I didn’t need to worry, it’s not locked, “you won’t need to climb over it”.  Wait! What?  Has he been talking to the guys in St Paul’s?!  I didn’t ask.  He also mentioned I should be safe at night, occasionally they get wanderers in but they shouldn’t disturb me.  Wanderers? Gulp!

Just outside the cathedral walls I discovered the Vinyl cafe. A brilliant place. Mainly a record shop in the style of when I was growing up, two tables with four seats each, food counter and that was the cafe. Perfect. I ordered a pot of Earl grey tea, and did a bit of writing whilst listening to Howard Jones being played on the record player. On the way out I said to owner, “Go on, put me out of my misery, I know it’s Howard Jones, is it the Dream into action album?” I was right, he was very impressed that I knew that, I didn’t tell him I knew it because I was 15 when it came out! We then had a long chat about how underrated Jones was.

Before evensong, I explored the cathedral.  I’ve never been inside before, my connection with Carlisle is that my head office was here when I worked in for Wesley Owen bookshops.  What a gem it is!  Parts really old, parts newer, not too huge, and amazing details.  The relaxed friendliness of the team extended to the cathedral itself.  On the order of service for evensong they invite you to pray for the cathedral “…may the door be wide enough to welcome all, and narrow enough to keep out evil”, it felt like this prayer was certainly answered.   

You are encouraged to explore the building through a sensory prayer walk.  One part , in the choir, suggests you lie down on the rug and ‘look at the Star-light ceiling…In your mind’s eye travel the vastness of space and time…’. Do it! It’s amazing!

I got up before the choir entered as the time was coming for evensong. I really liked the way that the Canon led the service interweaving the prayers that had been left in the cathedral with the formality of the service. Afterwards, Benjamin, who led evensong, thought it would be a good idea to go through the liturgy for the following day “as it’s a bit different!”

I set Molly up for the night and headed off to find the pub I’d arranged to meet an old work colleague, Mick, in for a drink. When I arrived at the pub, there was about a dozen people sitting on the wall outside. I went to go in but was informed, in a friendly, slightly aggressive manner, by Dave, “it’s not open!”. The door was open and the lights were on, it was only 6:50pm, I wasn’t sure if he was joking, so I carried on in, he jumped up and barred my way, “No” he said, slightly less friendly and a bit more aggressively, “it’s the landlady’s birthday and I’m taking her out.” “I was meeting a friend here for a drink” I said, ” do you mind if I sit on the wall with you and wait?” We ended up having a nice chat about the fate of pubs post covid and that people aren’t coming back. Doesn’t help if the landlady spontaneously shuts the pub and goes out either, I thought, but didn’t dare say!

Mick and his wife Geraldine rescued me and we went to a local JD Weatherspoons for a cheap pint.  What I didn’t know was that Mick had suffered a stroke, the same year I suffered my brain aneurysm, so I was so pleased he made the effort to come out.  People with traumatic brain injuries, like strokes and aneurysms share a great deal in common in terms of the impact and recovery, although Mick’s stroke has had a greater impact on him than mine on me. It was humbling and inspiring to see how far he had come in his recovery, and his positive determination that he was still getting better.  He had just finished cycling 10 miles, with little to no movement on his right hand side, to raise money for research into diabetes.

I had a lovely evening chatting to Mick. Between the gaps in his memory and the gaps in mine we managed to piece a lot together of what had happened to Wesley Owen bookshops and discover about what old colleagues have been up to in the last 25 years.

I headed back to the Cathedral the gate was indeed unlocked, and no ‘wanderers’ in sight, so I settled down for the night.