Week Two

Having managed to survive another week living in the most beautiful city in England (Yes, I am that biased already), I have a fair bit to type on about.

Dominating most of the views of the city of York, equally from the A19 from Thirsk or my bedroom window is the Minster; sat on a slight hill and surrounded by meandering medieval streets, it is easily the tallest building in the city. It is an impressive sight too, all crenelations and gargoyles in Yorkshire limestone (from Tadcaster, I am told) and gleaming in the late August sunshine as I write this. Like most medieval cathedrals on this here island, you have to pay an entry fee to walk round and visit as a tourist. Services, however (and appropriately) are free, so I took myself along to choral evensong last Friday. The Minster choir are on holiday, so the service was sung by the Collegium Singers who were marvellous (singing Gibbons Second Service and an anthem by a modern Eastern European composer who’s name is as unpronounceable as it is memorable). The atmosphere of sitting in the quire of the cathedral, with its amazing medieval carved choir stalls, roof bosses (couldn’t find the spaceman), and the organ was an experience in itself, and I expect to return.

In other church-based visits, I stumbled across Holy Trinity Goodramgate. Cloistered by the backs of some modern offices and shops, and nestled in its own little garden is this preserved medieval church with 17th century box pews, and a pulpit fit even for Dr Graham. Ahem. It is amazing the places that have survived the ravages of time here.

On Saturday I, somewhat nervously, headed out to Acomb to attend my first rehearsal with the Rudgate singers who are preparing for their annual solemn Mass at Brinkburn Priory in Northumberland. Despite my being 10 minutes late (eek), it was a really fun day. Such a friendly, fun and passionate bunch of singers I couldn’t have hoped to meet. Indeed there was quite the character or two. The music (Tallis 4v Mass and 2 Monteverdi motets) stretched my limited sight reading capabilities to the max, but the conductor knew the music inside out and was gracious and encouraging. I can’t wait to sing with them on Saturday week.

So that is about the height of my news this week. I spent the Long weekend cleaning an Aga and helping BC pack up books and furniture for is impeding move to his new house in N.Ormesby. Most importantly is the somewhat mega news of the birth of baby Dara Christopher Gerard to Mr & Mrs Dermot O’Lynn! Every congratulations Maeve and Derm (and of course Dara too!). Lots of prayers and best wishes headed your way!

TTFN

A Streetcar Named Nostalgia?

This is not due to homesickness, I am sure, but this little vid of a tram ride through Belfast early in the first decade of the twentieth century really made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up! Quite something.

Tip of the straw boater to Kirsten.

Exploring

Well I am now into day three of being a citizen of York (though I do not have a YorkCard yet to prove it), and it is really rather lovely. It is odd being in a city when you have nothing particularly to do, though a long, daily walk is getting me used to the sights and sounds: medieval Churches on every corner, ancient-looking edifices of every variety leaning into streets and ‘snickleways’ at every turn. It is almost too pictureskew.

I arrived safely and early on Saturday morning, getting settled into my nice flat (which I share with Ben) on Micklegate and unpacking my rucksack. By the end of the day I had had  a walk around the city, purchased some necessaries, sang compline (by candlelight no less) in York’s oldest Church and attended a cider festival at Brigantes pub up the street. All in all, not a bad end to a first day (though it gave me a hell of a headache).

Since then I have spent a lot of time waiting on my boxes, which arrived this morning. When I was packing them it seemed like I was bringing much too much stuff, but on emptying them I find myself asking – ‘is this it?’ Perhaps an existential question as much as an unpacking one, but getting through the year with as little as possible will be a good thing! (notwithstanding the degree to which cultofless.com has freaked me out! Playing on romanticised monastic sympathies, maybe)

So tomorrow, I am off for a day trip to Londinium thanks to the good Fr Charlton. We plan on hitting the newly opened V&A Renaissance and Medieval Galleries and a few other sites followed by a tasty lunch.

I hope to post here at least each week with a little update for you, my patient readers – so if you haven’t fallen asleep, tune in next time!

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Boxed Up

Well I am now officially unemployed, my boxes have been whisked off into the magical world of the DHL distribution network, my bags are packed and, yes dear friends, I’m ready to go.

Today finished my two year tenure at St Patrick’s, Donegall Street. It feels strangely liberating. This morning Bridie (le chef de cuisine, extraordinaire) prepared a breakfast for all the staff where we chatted, had a bit of craic, and Jean (staff member of 49 years) sang ‘You’ll Never Know How Much I Love You’ to me (all the verses). Deeply moving stuff. The work is finished now, the office is left in reasonably good order for my successor, and the last weekly bulletin has hit the presses.

As the weather today was so glorious, I felt reasonably whistful about leaving Belfast and my last journey down the Ards Peninsula for a while. I’ve loved living here, and had such fun – I cant wait to see how ‘Venice of the North’ compares. If I meant to come and visit you, or say goodbye or thanks in person and I didn’t make it: we’ll meet again.

And speaking of Vera Lynn, I shall let here play my first post out: