On Monday afternoon after our morning lectures by Jane Cartwright, head of the Celtic studies department at University of Wales, Lampeter (where I was heading to work on a PhD before I decided to opt for the more practical DMin degree at Wesley), we had a couple free hours. More about that momentarily. First a few words on Jane's lectures. I must admit, I am a haggiography geek. As she was talking about obscure Welsh saints, patterns in haggiography, sources of stories, iconographical evidence to support the stories in various churches, the process of locating sacred wells-- well, let's just say I started thinking, "Hmmm , maybe a PhD in Celtic studies wouldn't be such a bad thing to start next year . . . " I soon came to my senses-- that is until she passed out a brochure about a special offer for the MA in Celtic Studies which is an on-line degree that would cost about as much as two semesters at Wesley. Hmmm. I'm still thinking about that one . . .
After the lectures, Joe, Becky and I hopped on the bus to Mold. Why, you
might ask, in this area of Wales with all the lovely town names such as Penyfford, Breton or Rhydymwyn, did we chose to go to a place presumably named for microscopic fungi? Well, after we got there that's what we were wondering as well. Joe had read somewhere that Mold offered a great Welsh shopping experience. And granted, there were shops and they were Welsh. Great, however, is debatable. Maybe it's different on market days but basically it was just an ordinary, somewhat drab small town. We did a little shopping and then walked up High Street to St. Catherine's Church, which unfortunately was closed. As we wandered back to the bus station it started to rain and the heavens opened just as we dashed under the shelter to wait for the bus back to Hawarden.
might ask, in this area of Wales with all the lovely town names such as Penyfford, Breton or Rhydymwyn, did we chose to go to a place presumably named for microscopic fungi? Well, after we got there that's what we were wondering as well. Joe had read somewhere that Mold offered a great Welsh shopping experience. And granted, there were shops and they were Welsh. Great, however, is debatable. Maybe it's different on market days but basically it was just an ordinary, somewhat drab small town. We did a little shopping and then walked up High Street to St. Catherine's Church, which unfortunately was closed. As we wandered back to the bus station it started to rain and the heavens opened just as we dashed under the shelter to wait for the bus back to Hawarden. On the way home, we stopped at the Hawarden Brasserie for dinner. In this little town that consists of about 10 blocks and one main street, there is a remarkable restaurant that's been written up in area gourmet magazines for its wonderful food . . . and it was indeed wonderful. So nice to have options for dinner. I had a fabulous mushroom soup with taragon and what tasted like garam masala followed by a pan seared salmon with roasted veggies. Wash that down with a nice glass (or three) of chenin blanc and a dessert sample of four desserts shared by three people that included an incredible strawberry panacotta. Scrumptious. After we came back to the Library, there was a lovely harp concert in the common room. It was not only entertaining but also educational as the harpist talked about the development of the harp, especially the Celtic harp (although she played a classical harp for us). After that, I was so relaxed I had to go straight to bed.
Yesterday was our final day of excursions. We first visited Oswestry, the remains of an iron age hill fort. The
se forts were built on tops of hills (thus the term hill fort, obviously) surrounded by a series of walls and ditches that would protect those inside the enclosure from attack . . . unless the attackers decided to come in the back door of the fort, which were usually pretty accessible. We went in what would have been the front entrance which was quite steep. At the top of the hill on the flat part, which would have been surrounded by walls, there would have been round houses nestled up against the walls which were the domiciles of the people. Animals, food, etc. would have been housed in small square buildings more in the center of the enclosure. As Gareth pointed out, the series of ditches that surrounded the fort would have been about twice as deep as those we saw and the walls twice as high during the times the forts were being used but over time the earth has slipped into the ditches. Nevertheless, it was quite impressive. The photos don't think it do it justice.
se forts were built on tops of hills (thus the term hill fort, obviously) surrounded by a series of walls and ditches that would protect those inside the enclosure from attack . . . unless the attackers decided to come in the back door of the fort, which were usually pretty accessible. We went in what would have been the front entrance which was quite steep. At the top of the hill on the flat part, which would have been surrounded by walls, there would have been round houses nestled up against the walls which were the domiciles of the people. Animals, food, etc. would have been housed in small square buildings more in the center of the enclosure. As Gareth pointed out, the series of ditches that surrounded the fort would have been about twice as deep as those we saw and the walls twice as high during the times the forts were being used but over time the earth has slipped into the ditches. Nevertheless, it was quite impressive. The photos don't think it do it justice. After leaving Oswestry, we stopped briefly at a church whose name I can't pronounce - Llanrhaeadr ym Mochnant which was the parish of the man who first translated the Bible into Welsh-- a remarkable feat as in later centuries it provided a standard for the language, which was dying out after the Act of Union with England, and enabled a resurgence of Welsh language and culture. We then headed on to Pennant Melangell, pilgrimage site of Saint Melangell.
The story of Saint Melangell is one that was new to me, but one with which I immediately fell in love. Melangell was a princess from Ireland who fled that country when she decided she didn't want to
marry the guy her father had picked out for her. She landed in Wales and was hiding out for fifteen years on land belonging to the Prince of Powys. One day he was out hunting with his hounds and they came upon a hare. The dogs started chasing the poor thing, who ran into a thicket where Melangell was praying. The hare ran up under her skirts for protection. When the dogs saw Melangell, they were unable to move, struck immobile by her aura of holiness. The prince asked her for her story and was so impressed with her piety that he granted her a parcel of land to set up a community of nuns whose mission would be to provide sanctuary. The shrine church of St. Melangell's has been rebuilt over the past several centuries on this land and is now a pilgrimage site, with people walking the pilgrimage route over the Berwyn mountains or driving up the narrow road lined with fields of sheep, and, the day we were there, literally hundreds of pheasant (we had to stop several times as they tottled across the road in front of the bus).
marry the guy her father had picked out for her. She landed in Wales and was hiding out for fifteen years on land belonging to the Prince of Powys. One day he was out hunting with his hounds and they came upon a hare. The dogs started chasing the poor thing, who ran into a thicket where Melangell was praying. The hare ran up under her skirts for protection. When the dogs saw Melangell, they were unable to move, struck immobile by her aura of holiness. The prince asked her for her story and was so impressed with her piety that he granted her a parcel of land to set up a community of nuns whose mission would be to provide sanctuary. The shrine church of St. Melangell's has been rebuilt over the past several centuries on this land and is now a pilgrimage site, with people walking the pilgrimage route over the Berwyn mountains or driving up the narrow road lined with fields of sheep, and, the day we were there, literally hundreds of pheasant (we had to stop several times as they tottled across the road in front of the bus). Adjacent to the church is a center set up for sanctuary for those who have cancer and their care givers. It 
offers pastoral care, support groups, retreats, spiritual direction and just a place to get away. The women who work there had prepared a lovely lunch for us and after dining outside in the garden we then went to the church to look around. There were some amazing 2000 year old yew trees on the grounds amidst the cemetery. I had no idea yews got that large-- I'm so use to seeing them as just hedge or shrub sized at home. I can understand why yews were considered sacred trees by the Celts (they're often 
found in church yards in the British Isles. There is something very sacred about them. We had time to wander in the church and churchyard before gathering for a service in the church. After that, back to the ladies for tea and cake and then more time to wander before heading back to St. Deiniol's. On the way home, we drove through the Berwyn mountains which provided some amazing scenery through the bus windows.
offers pastoral care, support groups, retreats, spiritual direction and just a place to get away. The women who work there had prepared a lovely lunch for us and after dining outside in the garden we then went to the church to look around. There were some amazing 2000 year old yew trees on the grounds amidst the cemetery. I had no idea yews got that large-- I'm so use to seeing them as just hedge or shrub sized at home. I can understand why yews were considered sacred trees by the Celts (they're often 
found in church yards in the British Isles. There is something very sacred about them. We had time to wander in the church and churchyard before gathering for a service in the church. After that, back to the ladies for tea and cake and then more time to wander before heading back to St. Deiniol's. On the way home, we drove through the Berwyn mountains which provided some amazing scenery through the bus windows. Dinner at the Library was followed by a lecture on the Welsh poet R. S. Thomas. I quite like his poetry but never realized he was such a miserable man. Although he was well liked by his parishioners, he really looked down on them and some of his poems are down right snarky and cruel. He also never smiled-- in every single picture we were shown and in those that I found on line, he was always scowling, even as a young man. I think he needed to get to the pub more often. We certainly needed to go to the pub after that lecture so Joe, Becky, Laura and I headed off for one last pint together at the Fox and Grapes.
This morning we had the last two lectures of the course . . . well some people had two lectures. Joe and I skipped out on the very last talk to walk to the Hawarden Estate Store as he had to leave for Manchester right after lunch. We were given permission/encouragement and even instructions on when to skip and what to buy by Gareth so we didn't feel too bad about skipping. It was a gorgeous day and a nice stroll to the store, which from the outside looks like a giant fruit or vegetable crate and inside had an assortment of delicious local meat, cheese, produce, jams, jellies, baked goods, etc. as well as speciality items from all over Britain. I bought some bread and cheese for Becky and I to have for lunch tomorrow on the train. Yum-- can't wait.
After Joe departed, Becky, Laura and I headed into Chester. Laura hadn't been there yet so Becky and I played tour guide, showing her the Rows and the Roman Wall. We also decided to tour the cathedra
l because although we'd been in before to go to the gift shop and use the loo, we hadn't really seen the nave. Just a side note here . . . one reason the British are so wonderfully civilized, I'm convinced, is the availability of public toilets. Almost every little town has public loos that are convenient, clean and easily accessible. I guess it's a necessity though in a culture that survives on tea and beer.
l because although we'd been in before to go to the gift shop and use the loo, we hadn't really seen the nave. Just a side note here . . . one reason the British are so wonderfully civilized, I'm convinced, is the availability of public toilets. Almost every little town has public loos that are convenient, clean and easily accessible. I guess it's a necessity though in a culture that survives on tea and beer. The audio tour of the cathedral was wonderful. It was interesting to see a 1000 year range of art and architecture as well. The original church was build in 1092 and part of it still survive
s. In one transept there's a thousand year old Romanesque arch and in the other, modern silk banners and a big paper sculpture of Noah. But it all works. There are some interesting tidbits in the Cathedral that I never would have learned about without the audio tour. It was where Handel first rehearsed the Messiah. There is a spider web painting-- a Madonna and child painted on an actual spider web. One of the carvings in the choir is called the elephant and the castle but the elephant is really odd looking because while the wood carvers in the fifteenth or sixteenth century had heard of an elephant, they'd never actually seen a depiction of one so they had use their imaginations and carve one based on what they'd heard. One of the most interesting things I saw, however, was a boss stone in the lady chapel that depicted the martyrdom of Thomas Beckett. It was unusual in that it still existed. Evidently when Henry VIII broke with Rome he sent his minions around to all the cathedrals and churches throughout the land to destroy any images that might encourage other people t
o follow the path of resistance and martyrdom, which included many images of Beckett. Evidently Henry's men didn't look up, however, because they missed this image at Chester.
s. In one transept there's a thousand year old Romanesque arch and in the other, modern silk banners and a big paper sculpture of Noah. But it all works. There are some interesting tidbits in the Cathedral that I never would have learned about without the audio tour. It was where Handel first rehearsed the Messiah. There is a spider web painting-- a Madonna and child painted on an actual spider web. One of the carvings in the choir is called the elephant and the castle but the elephant is really odd looking because while the wood carvers in the fifteenth or sixteenth century had heard of an elephant, they'd never actually seen a depiction of one so they had use their imaginations and carve one based on what they'd heard. One of the most interesting things I saw, however, was a boss stone in the lady chapel that depicted the martyrdom of Thomas Beckett. It was unusual in that it still existed. Evidently when Henry VIII broke with Rome he sent his minions around to all the cathedrals and churches throughout the land to destroy any images that might encourage other people t
o follow the path of resistance and martyrdom, which included many images of Beckett. Evidently Henry's men didn't look up, however, because they missed this image at Chester. Well, it's now 10:45 pm here and I'm almost done packing. I'll finish up in the morning and after breakfast, we'll head to Edinburgh. After over ten years away, I'm excited about going back. Next post, providing we have internet access at the hotel, from Scotland. Stay tuned . . .
No comments:
Post a Comment