It was after Peterborough that the clouds started to break up, giving the day it's first real feel of light. While the sky still had the threat of rain , the monotone grey that sucks at the soul was lifted. Wind turbines stalk the horizon and for the first time today it feels like I'm finally on my way somewhere. Which in a lot of ways is what I could say sums up my year (although that won’t finish up in Norwich).
The train is about to arrive at Ely which has an impressive cathedral, the second of three cathedrals visible on the journey; after the functional Peterborough, and before the grand Norwich. Ely is one of those places that comes out of no where and stuns you with nothing short of awe, even if the town has an Argos. The cathedral is distinctive with it's odd shaped towers and impressive masonry. If you want to study medieval architecture you can’t go far wrong here.
While I made this trip from Mansfield to Norwich many times on both the train and car many times before, this is my third trip on Christmas Eve. It feels like it is starting to become a Christmas traditional, even the family sat opposite are the same as last year.
It is not just the football that I admire about Norwich, as someone with an interest of medieval history (the real thing, not the Game of Thrones borefest), there is plenty to be taken in by Norwich. For this was a medieval city of some repute. The fact that Helen Castor starts at least one episodes of her documentary series Medieval Lives in the city shows how important the place and people were.
It is two of this periods buildings that still dominate the the Norwich skyline, the castle still looks grand as ever; being out of the way has it's advantages and didn’t suffer the fate of castles like Nottingham or Newark. It is now a museum and give a good account of not just Norwich but Norfolk as a whole.
It was here that I first heard the story of Saint Edmund, the saint of East Anglia and for a time patron saint of England. He was the victim of Viking raids, defeated he was tied to a tree, shot through with arrows and decapitated and dumped in a forest. When his kinsman went to find his body they were called by a wolf who was guarding Edmund. Or something along those lines. No records from his reign have survived, his legend has helped make him the patron saint of wolves, kings and pandemics.
This year there seems to be less need to hit the shops, more by accident that organisation on my part. It means I have more time to visit the cathedral than usual. The place has a quite buzz at this time of year. There are services to get ready guest to great and as a casual visiter like myself can slip in a wonder without aim.
It is a shame that I will be leaving before the Christmas service as buildings are built for the kind of show that will take place. Religious or not it is hard not to admire such an event.
When walking down to the cathedral there was the most almighty of downpours, but now sat in the building I have come all this way, light is flooding in through the high windows. The few stained glass panels are spreading light like a kaleidoscope.
The seats are filling up with anticipation. People are either reading books or magazines. While others sit and chat or quietly reflecting. The murmur of people talking is starting to make the walls echo. The odd excited child can be heard.
The best place to look in a cathedral is up. It seems self evident when you consider the nature of the building is to look upto not just God but the people who built the place. A Norman church built with French stone it is imposing now as it must of been to the people who saw it when it was first completed.
The cathedral was started in 1090, replacing a Saxon settlement in a way that would have excited town planners even today. The fact it has been here for over 900 years is a wonder. Even more so is it doesn’t seem to have suffered the same amount of set backs as some other cathedrals and is probably why is is one of my favourites.
That isn’t an easy claim to make. However when I have taken friends and family they have been just as impressed. This did include trying to find the oldest piece of graffiti with a couple of friends; which Flog It tried to make out was quite difficult.
One of the most famous people associated with the cathedral is Sir Thomas Erpingham. He was a Norfolk nobleman during the uneasy period at the end of the fourteenth century and the start of the fifteenth. He is perhaps best known from William Shakespeare’s play Henry V where he was a trusted part of Henry's army.
One of the gates is named after the bearded gent. It also contains a small statue of Sir Thomas knelling in prayer. He is even buried somewhere in the cathedral, although no one is exactly sure whereabouts.
In the end I am starting to get in the way, although no one says so. One of the cathedral staff even invites me to stay for the service. I however have a train to catch, and just as the singing of songs would be getting underway.
I take one last walk around the building and slip out into the cloisters still looking up. The sun is back out before it is due to set. The walk to the railway station is done in a kind of mournful silence, but I know I'll be back and as I cross the River Wensum I look forward to seeing this old city again.
