50ccPilgrim.uk

Well, I'm growing to love serendipity and surprises on this pilgrimage. I've spent the last couple of hours riding a back road through the most gorgeous borders countryside, along winding lanes that follow the lines of the valleys and burns, while the sun shone brightly overhead. And then, out of nowhere, appeared the most unexpected place. I'm having a cuppa at a huge Tibetan Buddhist monastery.  When I say huge, I do mean it. Kagyu Samye Ling has, I've been told by one of the monastics, 30 to 40 residential members in the community at any given time, and the capacity to welcome around 150 more retreatants. Visitors walk the peace gardens surrounding the monastery and temple, and there is a tea room and shop. As I write there are dozens of other visitors here. The community supports its life in the ways, as far as I can determine: donations, the tea room/shop, and money people pay to come on retreat. But - and this is fascinating - they only charge for gene...

Ever the optimist, when I saw a sign on the main road into Peebles pointing right and suggesting the possibility of 'RC Church 1/4m' I decided to take a chance. I'm glad I did.  First, let me say this, and it's wonderful to say, the door was open.  After finding so many locked Scottish churches, St Joseph's was not just unlocked, but the door was open and inviting. Inside, the church is simple but very well cared for; there was a light on at the back, a little shop offering Catholic devotional cards and items for sale, and a donations box (in which I happily made an offering!) To my delight there was a teeny, tiny chapel on the north side with a prayer desk in front of it and a votive candle stand beside. If the number of candles is any guide, I was roughly the seventh person so far today to stop and offer some prayer. And it was so quiet, so still, such a prayerful little church. I had such joy of it. Honestly, I could have spent the rest of the day her...

Nothing particularly special about this spot just south of Eddleston in the Scottish Borders. Except that, according to the trip gauge on La Felice  this marks exactly 1,000km into this second pilgrimage.  It's just a number, and doesn't have any great significance (if I told you it was 621.371 miles you might rightly think, so? ) but I've spent nearly two weeks watching those kilometres slowly rack up and it feels like a 'moment', to me at least. So I'm marking it here!  ///bench.playful.developed

Rosslyn Chapel, just south of Edinburgh. A late medieval chapel made famous by Dan Brown's ridiculous Da Vinci Code , it's also a place that was repeatedly and highly recommended to me by my daughter and son in law. So I called in today to discover they were absolutely right: Rosslyn is a must.  Construction started on this incredible structure in the 1440s, and as far as I could tell by looking around the owner of the Roslin estate, William St Clair, employed half the master stonemasons in Europe and told them to do as they pleased. The sculptured interior is amazing, edifying (he'd set out to create "a Bible in stone"), inspiring and, yes, beautiful.  After a magnificent storytelling introduction by our guide, Helen, we visitors were given free rein to wander as we pleased. It was captivating, and more than an hour flew by without my even noticing - despite this being really rather small by church standards. It had originally been envisaged as a huge...

Scotland, I've got to say that although I love you to bits I'm getting fed up of being locked out of your churches.  I'm sitting outside Dunfermline Abbey. I'd been looking forward to seeing inside and praying in what, by all accounts, is a smashing church. But I'll never know, because although the church shuts at 4.30pm, and although last entry is at 4.00pm, and although I turned up with a couple of minutes to spare before 4.00, I found the door literally being closed and locked in my face.  I protested, of course. The fella locking the door shrugged. "I've already turned off the till, so I can't process any more entries." This, mind you, for a church which has free entry .  I've lost count of the number of locked churches I've visited here now. Just this morning I passed a notice someone had added to a road sign post. "CHURCH" it shouted excitedly, pointing to the right and telling me it was only 1/4 mile away. I det...

What a strange moment. I arrived at St Mary's Monastery, a Roman Catholic Redemptorist community, a little before noon and rang the doorbell. A Sister came to the door, took one look at me and asked, "Episcopalian?" And I thought, you can tell just by looking?  It turned out the Scottish Episcopal Institute, the ministry training body of the Episcopal Church, was holding a week long residential and she assumed I was part of the event. Having cleared up the confusion I was invited in and asked whether I wanted to join the community for mass or the Institute for midday prayer. Since one was following the other and both were on offer, I went to everything. A feast of prayer.  Afterwards they also invited me to lunch: simple but excellent fare with some great company from the ministry students. It was wonderful to meet them and hear about their experiences of church life and plans for the future. An unexpected blessing!  ///cute.horses.local

After St Andrew's I made my way over the silvery Tay to Dundee. This wasn't really part of the pilgrimage - I was taking a few days break to spend with my daughter, her husband, and our delightful two year old grandson. We went to toddler clubs, ten pin bowling, a farm, and some shops. We played with toy trains, read books about hedgehogs, and had tea and cake. It was blissful.  And now I'm back on the road heading for Perth and then down towards Dunfermline. And what a road! This was the view from up in the hills looking down at the Tay not far out of Perth. I stopped and looked down this valley while I prayed Morning Prayer. It's hard to find a church with this kind of breathtaking visual appeal!  I love churches (as this blog has probably made quite obvious) but there is something truly wonderful about praying in the beautiful natural places too, the great temple of nature. I felt my soul opening up and breathing the cool air.  ///series.launched.canine...

There are some fascinating places to visit between southern Edinburgh and St Andrew's. But when I woke early this morning it was raining again, and I decided I'd prefer to make good time today on my trip and visit some of those places on the way back. It was a good decision, and the longer ride north was surprisingly enjoyable.  And now I'm here, in St Andrew's, at the site of the medieval cathedral as I write (sitting, in fact, in one of the monk's stalls in the Chapter House). The outward leg of this second pilgrimage is complete.  I found the arrival very moving. I parked La Fenice in the middle of town and walked the last half mile. When I arrived at the ruins I went around to the west door and walked slowly along the length of the cathedral, trying to imagine it at its medieval height. I pictured the colours, the stonework, the glass that might have been visible. I thought of the living, prayerful community who'd worshipped here for centuries. I...

I rode through the afternoon yesterday, finally crossing the border into Scotland. And as I crossed the weather suddenly became ... well, a lot more Scottish . Throughout the afternoon we had a variety of experiences: heavy rain, light rain, drizzle, stinging rain, blowy rain and steady rain. I'd intended to visit the Abbeys at Kelso and Melrose, which have important links with the stories of Cuthbert and the Northumbrian church. Unfortunately Kelso Abbey is currently closed because of dangerous stonework problems, and Melrose (also closed by the time I arrived) is covered in scaffolding because of similar issues. I decided to press on towards Edinburgh and visit the Abbeys another time.  Just outside Peebles I started praying for a good spot to camp, and within a few miles find myself here (the field in the photo). A babbling burn, a stone bridge, a break in the rain long enough to get the tent up - what's not to like?  Of course, soon after I took that photo the ...

After the service at St Mary's I'd planned to look around the ruins of the ancient priory. But I've seen a lot of ruins in the last week or so, and the £13 ticket price was a bit discouraging. So I went wandering.  Around the corner I came across the St Cuthbert Centre, a URC church which has been converted (by the URC folks) into a place for prayer, reflection and the arts. I was welcomed warmly by the new chaplain, Revd Kay, and the current artist in residence, Mo, who had created an amazing array of pieces from folded, shaped, printed and painted paper. We talked for a while, being joined partway through by Revd Nathaniel, a local curate, and his delightful dog Poppy. At some point Nathaniel and Mo produced a simple but delicious lunch from somewhere. I didn't want to leave.  If you find yourself on Holy Island and you want to see something that connects a little more with the faith of Cuthbert and Aidan than an impressive heap of stones, this little cent...

Lindisfarne: the holy island. What a delight it was to be able to visit at last. I slept overnight in some woods nearby, wild camping again, and arrived very early at the causeway so I'd have a mobile signal to post here and send some messages. If you're following this blog in real time and wondering why the posts are always a day or two behind, it's mostly because the wi-fi facilities in wild camping sites leave a lot to be desired ... It was fun watching people following the retreating tide along the causeway and tentatively trying their luck to get across as soon as possible. I didn't take any chances on La Fenice , but I did cross as soon as the whole road was visible and had the fun of riding with the sea right up against the road on either side; with my pilgrim staff strapped to my back I felt like Moses on a Vespa. I arrived just after the start of the morning service at St Mary's, so had the opportunity to be part of what turned out to be a terri...

A few people had suggested that I visit Bamburgh Castle while travelling up the northeast coast, so I headed over that way from Alnmouth - forgetting that it's a bank holiday weekend. The town and castle were heaving with people, despite the strong winds left over from Storm Lilian, and after a week of camping in the woods and praying in churches it was more noise and bustle than I could cope with. I looked down the road from the castle and pulled over to peruse the map, ready to pick the next stop. As I got off the bike I noticed a church opposite with a big 'Open' sign outside, the kind of invitation I try not to resist. Everyone  had told me about the castle, but no-one had thought to mention St Aidan's Church. As I quickly discovered, it's not called St Aidan's as a dedication but because he built the original church and ministered here. It's one of the key sites in the Northumbrian Christian story, and a wonderful place for a pilgrim to call...

Not far north of my Dad's home in Bedlington is the Anglican Francisan friary at Alnmouth. I've visited their sister house in Dorset, Hilfield, so I thought it might be nice to see whether they'd mind me joining them here for midday prayer. I'm glad I called in. The friary is relatively small: just six brothers living in a repurposed country house in the village. I was met at the door by the soft-spoken and warmly hospitable Brother Benedict who ushered me in, made a hot cuppa, and have me a guided tour of the whole house. Midday Prayer in the Chapel was followed immediately by a eucharist (with incense! 😄) and then I was asked to stay for lunch. It was kindness beyond my expectations.  Perhaps the loveliest part of the visit, though, came unexpectedly in the sitting room. Benedict and I were joined by a friend local retired lady. When she walked in I immediately thought: "Gosh, she looks just like Sue." Sue has been our next door neighbour and a ...

From Durham I wound my way up past Newcastle (or rather, skirted around it to find a bridge over the Tyne that wasn't given over to a busy major road) and ended up in Bedlington, not far from Morpeth. It's not, to my knowledge, a pilgrimage site or place of historic Christian significance. But it is where my Dad and his wife Maureen live, which seemed an excellent reason to visit.  I spent a couple of nights with them, eating good food and swapping stories; it was great to catch up in person. During the day on Friday they offered the chance to make a trip over to Hexham and visit the Abbey. I knew nothing about the place except that the verger in Lincoln Cathedral had said it was a must-see, but that was recommendation enough.  Well, honestly, here's my take. If you're in the northeast and have to choose between Durham and Hexham, choose Hexham.  I can't begin to tell you all the wonderful things in the Abbey: the 80 odd medieval painted panels, the mise...

Heading out from Darlington I had a lovely (if somewhat damp) ride around meandering country lanes to Durham. The change in countryside was remarkable: Lincolnshire riding was long, straight roads over an utterly flat landscape (I suspected that Lincoln Cathedral was built on a hill following the astonishment of the residents in finding they had a hill), but Yorkshire and most places north are one hill after another. And, therefore, some great views.  Durham Cathedral was good. It had been hyped up to me as a kind of life-changing Nirvana which would blow my socks off, and I have to be honest: it wasn't. I arrived in time for a beautiful communion service led by Caroline, a local vicar, so that was a treat. Afterwards I wandered in a bustling crowd of visitors around the various sights on offer. It was all very interesting but seemed to have the vibe of a National Trust property, a bit of fascinating history with nice artworks. The service had been in a side chapel, tu...