More cathedrals

My best buddy Don and I seem to be waging a friendly battle of the blogs as we both watch Starz TV's version of Pillars of the Earth and write about cathedrals we have visited. So far he has written about Salisbury, Köln, Trier and Sainte-Chapelle -- that last not of course a cathedral, but a fantastic Gothic experience nonetheless. I wrote about my ten-day tour of British cathedrals and he asked for more detail, so here we go.

Winchester was my first stop. This beautiful eleventh century cathedral is noteworthy for Jane Austen's tomb and because of a problem with water seepage. The picture at left is of Antony Gormley’s eerie, mesmerizing statue Sound II in the crypt; throughout much of the year it is knee-deep in water, as it was when I saw it. A nearby statue of William Walker celebrates the brave deep-sea diver who, from 1906 to 1911, single-handedly saved the cathedral by working underwater and in total darkness six hours a day to shore it up. Winchester is likely the only cathedral to be immortalized in popular song: the New Vaudeville Band’s eponymous ditty and Crosby, Stills and Nash’s Cathedral.

I’ve already talked about Salisbury, my favorite English cathedral. Of all the pictures I shot, I love most the one below; it clearly shows the breathtaking height of the tower, as well as the bucolic setting of this magnificent building. (Note: apologies for the image quality; my scanner is broken and this is an iPhone photo of the original).

Ely Cathedral is noteworthy for its painted ceiling and for its castle-like appearance, as well as for its unique octagonal lantern. I loved the afternoon and night I spent there, for Ely is a charming, not-so-crazy-as-others Cambridgeshire town.

My visit to York Minster was serendipitously magical. The plan, as always, was to tour the cathedral for a couple of hours and then find a B&B. I was crushed to learn that would not be possible as a medieval mystery play was being presented that day and there was no admission except to see the play, which was long ago sold-out. I was directed to the box office in the hope that a ticket might be returned. I had only just walked in when an old lady tottered up to me, shaking something in her hand and asking “need a ticket, sonny?” I was thrilled and then thrilled again as I watched a three-hour pageant of color, comedy, beauty and spirit unfold within the walls of this majestic place. The town was overrun because of the play so I was unable to secure a room in York for the night, but I will never forget the afternoon I spent there.

Durham (below) was the farthest north I got on my trip. Its cathedral is probably the greatest Norman building in existence, maybe the greatest ever built. Of all the churches I visited, this one has the most amazing setting imaginable. It is built on a peninsula in the River Wear and its west end looks into a deep gorge. It is simply stunning.  I stayed at a B&B 20 minutes away; walking toward the cathedral is another experience I will never forget. If one of the aims of a cathedral’s design is to humble us mere mortals, this one works, in spades!

I loved Lincoln Cathedral (below) as well. (Ok, let’s face it: there are no cathedrals I don’t love. Well maybe one: Washington, DC’s Basilica of the National Shrine of the Immaculate Conception, the largest Roman Catholic church in the United States. Oh wait, it’s NOT a cathedral; it’s just hideous.) If Durham is special for the way it towers over the trees and the river, Lincoln is the same, only this time it’s the neighboring buildings that are dwarfed by this massive gem. As I mentioned in the last post, I enjoyed a Sunday service here followed by tea and pastries in the Chapter House. I found the people incredibly friendly and very interested in my solo wanderings through their cathedral-laden country. When asked which was my favorite, I of course answered “this one,” just as my favorite roller coaster is the one I am riding at the time.

Don also asked for a word about Chartres, outside of Paris. She is not a huge cathedral but is considered by many to be the single best expression of French Gothic architecture. From a distance she appears to float over the fields; it is only when you are closer that you see there is a town around her. The stained glass within is on a par with that of Ste-Chapelle, and the contrasting towers make the building more approachable I think, as the undecorated South tower, dating from the 1140s, contrasts with the more ornate North tower from the sixteenth century.

My brother and I took a train from Paris, arriving in Chartres at approximately 12:30. After twenty minutes in the cathedral he wanted to go to lunch, saying that restaurants close at 2:00pm and so we should eat now and come back again after lunch. I couldn’t stand the thought of leaving, so I sent him off on his own. 90 minutes later he found me, walking the famous labyrinth, mesmerized by this beautiful creation.

On another trip I had an ugly-American moment. I was climbing one of the towers when I noticed a group of 20-somethings climbing ahead of me. They had friends on the ground and were yelling to them, making a noisy nuisance of themselves. One of them passed me on his way down and asked me the time. I shrugged my shoulders and said, “Je suis désolé, je ne parle pas anglais.”

Cathédrale Notre-Dame de Chartres