Last Friday we had a walk around Ripon, taking in the cathedral and finishing at Appleton’s the butchers for some proper sausage, proper bacon and a couple of cracking pork pies.
River Skell, Ripon Cathedral in the background
Like most large churches, Ripon Cathedral has undergone several phases of development and extension, the oldest part being a Saxon crypt dating from 672.
The East front
Angle of the North Transept and The Choir
Norman arches on the North Transept, Gothic on The Choir.
The early 13thC West Front is the impressive and awe-inspiring main entrance.
Inside, the spectacular workmanship continues…
Looking down the Nave to the Choir and the High Alter
The screen behind the alter is decorated with representatives of past Bishops and the odd King
The organ sits between the Crossing and the Choir, the organist sitting high above the congregation.
The organ and organists seat, through the arch is the Crossing and the Nave
The carved screens around the Choir must have taken many hours of painstaking work.
Even the ceilings reflect the majesty of the building. In stone above the sides of the Choir…
…and in timber
Then there’s the more delicate decorative feature of the stained glass.
Finally, the oldest part of the church lies beneath the Crossing.
St. Wilfrid’s Crypt dates from 672, and was probably created by Wilfrid to represent Christ’s tomb. It’s still a place of pilgrimage.
These buildings were designed to inspire awe and reflect the glory of God, they got it right here. I could have spent several hours just taking in the atmosphere of over 1200 years of worship, but we had to get back to the boat and move up to the marina, ready to collect a car from Enterprise for the weekend.
Looking back down Kirkgate from the West Front
With a smart Volkswagon Passat available, it seemed a shame not to go somewhere on Saturday, so we went off across the North York Moors, ending up at Whitby.
Neil and Val (and Meg) in front of the natural depression of the Hole of Horcum
Whitby was heaving, unsurprising on such a fine day.
Crab pots in the inner harbour
The outer harbour
The trip boats were doing a roaring trade, this is the retired RNLI lifeboat Ann Hepworth
The locals were on the lookout for scraps disposed from the fishing boats.
Yesterday we were on the road at 06:00, arriving at South Shields at around quarter past seven. I left Mags, Neil, Val and Meg there and caught the bus into Newcastle and the start line of the Great North Run.
The start zone is ¾ of a mile long, it has to be to accommodate 55,000 runners.
Even time for a bit of celebrity spotting.
Chris Chittell and Tony Audenshaw, stars of Emmerdale
Unfortunately the two headline athletes, Mo Farah and Haile Gebrselassie, had decided not to run after all, although Mo was on the start rostrum, high-fiving some of the thousands streaming past.
I’d already decided to take it easy this year, with the problems I’ve had with the ligaments in my left foot I didn’t want to risk having to drop out.
It was a close run thing though, the painkillers wore off by the end of mile three, I was limping by 9, and nearly packed it in then, but thought, what the hell, I’m nearly there, so pushed on to finish in a painful 2:04.
I hobbled back to join the rest of the gang, who had meanwhile been joined by another of Mags’ sons, Howard, and grand-daughters Melanie and Zoe, with their children Emma, Nichola, Demi and Kyle.
We set off back to Ripon and everyone else turned up shortly afterwards, much to Mag’s surprise and delight. I don’t think we’ve had eleven bodies on board before, it was a little cramped and I had to organise the seating arrangements or we were leaning quite a bit, but we had a really good, if somewhat noisy, afternoon. Sorry no pictures. Much too busy.
Today has been a quiet day. Neil and Val went back to Ingleton with Howard last evening, so it’s been just us. A lie in this morning, then some shopping on the way to drop the car back to Harrogate. The coalman has delivered to the marina this afternoon, so we got four bags off him. The forecast is for a chillier week ahead, and the stove won’t stay in overnight on wood.
We’ll be heading out of the marina tomorrow, probably back to Boroughbridge. We’ll toddle off steadily south, spending a couple of days in York. When we reach Knottingley we’ll have a decision to make. Go west and take the Aire and Calder and the Huddersfield Canals over the Pennines, use the Leeds and Liverpool and then down towards Manchester, or retrace our journey back down the Trent. We’ll see…
Thanks everyone for your support and sponsorship for the race. It may be my last... bits are starting to wrong too often!
Locks 2, miles 1