Regular readers of this blog might like to know I have two books available on Lulu.com.
The first covers my pilgrimage to Santiago de Compostela. Unlike many pilgrims, who walk only the Spanish section, I walked from Le Puy in the centre of France, crossing the Pyrenees in midwinter. Ultreia! The pilgrimage to Santiago is available as a download or printed book.
The second book is a novel, Walsingham Way, loosely based on the history of the Reformation in England and the great medieval pilgrimage to the Holy House at Walsingham, in Norfolk. I did actually walk from Norwich to Walsingham as part of a historical reenactment a while back, sleeping in barns and churches on a straw stuffed mattress, so I feel I have some inside knowledge here. But the novel tells a rather different story, about a loner on the loose in a country subject to violent change, and the way that travel broadens experience, sometimes in ways the traveller would rather not have it broadened...
Showing posts with label pilgrimage. Show all posts
Showing posts with label pilgrimage. Show all posts
Sunday, 1 June 2008
Saturday, 15 September 2007
Back from a pilgrimage
Just back from the Medieval Trust pilgrimage to Walsingham. It hurt.
There were quite a few surprises. One was that the night we'd all been dreading - sleeping under an unfinished thatched roof, part of a reconstruction of medieval building materials - was actually the cosiest. We were laid out like sardines in a tin, loose straw scattered below our straw-filled mattresses, and thatch above, snug as bugs in a rug. Don't underestimate the insulation value of straw. By comparison, our nights in a barn and a church were freezing.
Another surprise awaited us as we came into Walsingham; we were pestered by touts selling relics, herbs, religious tat. (Other re-enactors - this isn't the welcome that awaits normal pilgrims.) Now I hadn't really thought all twelve of us had bonded over the four days (most of us knew only two or three of the other participants before starting the walk), but I know I was responsible for a couple of squabbles - but faced with this barrage, we closed ranks impressively. One of the other re-enactors noted to me the day after that she felt thoroughly left out!
Surprise number three; mulled beer for breakfast. (St Peter's Honey Porter with extra honey works a treat. I don't actually like that beer much cold; add more honey and warm it up and you have anaesthetic enough for at least three miles!) Beer at eight in the morning shouldn't work, but it did. Thoroughly recommended as a Boxing Day pick-me-up for inhabitants of the twenty-first-century.
Personally, I found the pilgrimage extremely difficult even though it was only 10 miles or so each day for four days. Medieval shoes give little support to the ankle, and you've only got three or four millimetres of leather between your sole and the path. Blisters at once. Then the lack of sleep, with many of us getting only a couple of hours and lying awake most of the night through cold, discomfort, or listening to other people snoring. Then the clothes; three or four layers of wool above linen form a portable sauna; no chance to strip down (and for women, not even the chance to take your headdress off; medieval society enforced head-coverings for all mature women).
Another surprise was the understated beauty of the Norfolk landscape. Some of the nicest stretches were along the Marriotts Way, a cycle track that uses an old railway track. At some points you're walking an embankment above marshes; at others, in a dapple-shaded cutting below overarching trees, protected from the sun. Towards Walsingham, one minor road ran past a number of lightning-struck oaks just beginning to grow again, leafy boughs contrasting with the stark white of the old wood. At Pensthorpe, I heard cranes fly past in the morning - as noisy as the USAF planes that overflew us the night before.
I must admit to feeling relief rather than achievement when I arrived in Walsingham. It had been hard. But the next day, when we got given our pilgrim badges in the ruins of the old priory, I felt quite tearfully proud.
Link to the account on the Eastern Daily Press website.
There were quite a few surprises. One was that the night we'd all been dreading - sleeping under an unfinished thatched roof, part of a reconstruction of medieval building materials - was actually the cosiest. We were laid out like sardines in a tin, loose straw scattered below our straw-filled mattresses, and thatch above, snug as bugs in a rug. Don't underestimate the insulation value of straw. By comparison, our nights in a barn and a church were freezing.
Another surprise awaited us as we came into Walsingham; we were pestered by touts selling relics, herbs, religious tat. (Other re-enactors - this isn't the welcome that awaits normal pilgrims.) Now I hadn't really thought all twelve of us had bonded over the four days (most of us knew only two or three of the other participants before starting the walk), but I know I was responsible for a couple of squabbles - but faced with this barrage, we closed ranks impressively. One of the other re-enactors noted to me the day after that she felt thoroughly left out!
Surprise number three; mulled beer for breakfast. (St Peter's Honey Porter with extra honey works a treat. I don't actually like that beer much cold; add more honey and warm it up and you have anaesthetic enough for at least three miles!) Beer at eight in the morning shouldn't work, but it did. Thoroughly recommended as a Boxing Day pick-me-up for inhabitants of the twenty-first-century.
Personally, I found the pilgrimage extremely difficult even though it was only 10 miles or so each day for four days. Medieval shoes give little support to the ankle, and you've only got three or four millimetres of leather between your sole and the path. Blisters at once. Then the lack of sleep, with many of us getting only a couple of hours and lying awake most of the night through cold, discomfort, or listening to other people snoring. Then the clothes; three or four layers of wool above linen form a portable sauna; no chance to strip down (and for women, not even the chance to take your headdress off; medieval society enforced head-coverings for all mature women).
Another surprise was the understated beauty of the Norfolk landscape. Some of the nicest stretches were along the Marriotts Way, a cycle track that uses an old railway track. At some points you're walking an embankment above marshes; at others, in a dapple-shaded cutting below overarching trees, protected from the sun. Towards Walsingham, one minor road ran past a number of lightning-struck oaks just beginning to grow again, leafy boughs contrasting with the stark white of the old wood. At Pensthorpe, I heard cranes fly past in the morning - as noisy as the USAF planes that overflew us the night before.
I must admit to feeling relief rather than achievement when I arrived in Walsingham. It had been hard. But the next day, when we got given our pilgrim badges in the ruins of the old priory, I felt quite tearfully proud.
Link to the account on the Eastern Daily Press website.
Friday, 2 March 2007
Pilgrimage to Walsingham
It looks as if I'm going to be able to score another pilgrimage badge.
I'm already entitled to wear my scallop shell badge for the pilgrimage to Santiago. The Mediaeval Trust is organising a re-enactment of the pilgrimage from Norwich to Walsingham - in proper medieval dress. I'm really tempted to go.
Unfortunately the word has got out that we are being authentic 24/7. That is, no bunking off at six o'clock to go the pub and stay in a B&B. No, we've got to sleep on straw and eat proper medieval food. Fortunately I do know the Mediaeval Trust is blessed with some excellent cooks!
What do I get for four days of footslogging? Well if I go, I'm going to be raising some sponsorship for the Trust. And I hope I'll get another pilgrimage badge - like the one shown on Ladysmaid's page about pilgrimage (it's about half way down).
Is it really worth it? Maybe...
I'm already entitled to wear my scallop shell badge for the pilgrimage to Santiago. The Mediaeval Trust is organising a re-enactment of the pilgrimage from Norwich to Walsingham - in proper medieval dress. I'm really tempted to go.
Unfortunately the word has got out that we are being authentic 24/7. That is, no bunking off at six o'clock to go the pub and stay in a B&B. No, we've got to sleep on straw and eat proper medieval food. Fortunately I do know the Mediaeval Trust is blessed with some excellent cooks!
What do I get for four days of footslogging? Well if I go, I'm going to be raising some sponsorship for the Trust. And I hope I'll get another pilgrimage badge - like the one shown on Ladysmaid's page about pilgrimage (it's about half way down).
Is it really worth it? Maybe...
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