There's no place like Durham

Yesterday, I headed north to Durham via Peterborough. The first train departed at 5:59 a.m., and much to my surprise I made it, having avoided the big bad wolf on my dark and lonely walk through the fens to the Station. Three and half hours of training before sunrise requires a nappy-poo, sort of. . .the nod and jerk awake again sort that gives you a sore neck. I also did quite a bit of reading.

From the Durham station, I took a quick walk about, but went more or less directly to the Palace Green Library which is. . .well, on the palace green between the castle and the cathedral.

I spent four to five hours studying Cosin MS V. ii. 13; I hope my notes still make sense to me, but if not I’ll just need to go back. I had the extraordinary good luck to meet briefly with Professor A. I. Doyle, who is so brilliant and generous. He answered several of my questions, and found my line of inquiry "curiously interesting”–at least he didn’t tell me to throw myself off the bell tower.

From the library, I went straight across the green to the cathedral which sits atop a quasi-island promontory of bedrock. It screams "Sanctuary!"
No photographs are allowed of the interior, and it is off-season so there are no guided tours. . .upon hearing which, I gave my best Willy Sheep Dog pout, and one of the guides said she could take me for a quick ten-minute look-see. An hour and a half later, we were still chatting. She explained the history of Norman “prince-prelates” brilliantly. This Norman/Romanesque structure is both inspiring and reassuring. The roof (72'9" up) is supposedly the first attempt to provide a stone roof which mandated a transition to Gothic vaulting–I smells an H2P lecture brewing. I saw the replacement (Boo Henry VIII!) shrine of Cuthbert and the tomb of Bede. I even was taken literally through an Early Modern clock (which still works) at the end of south crossing through the "slype" and into the chapter house which is off-limits to the public.

Reluctantly leaving, I crossed the green again to the Castle which was “closed” in the sense that it is used as a college of the University of Durham. Between terms, however, including most of the summer, you can rent rooms in the castle for surprisingly low costs.

Then, home again without incident–except for the train being overrun at Peterborough by hordes of college-age girls apparently planning the cold and damp Euro-equivalent of Spring Break. They reminded me of Catherine, and I wanted to tell them all to stay home with their parents. . .but silently accepted that they wouldn’t listen either.