There and back again…

Good morning!

Actually it’s good afternoon as I’ve slept late today. I was planning on a “pilgrimmage” out to Canterbury today but I started my laundry last night at 10:30pm and it took a lot longer than I expected. No worries though, I’ll have another weekend to go. All is not lost.

I’ve done so much in the past few days and I’ve forgotten to write about it, so let me recall everything I’ve done and give you the abbreviated account of my activities.

I’ll rewind to the weekend of the 15th and 16th of July. On Saturday I took the tube north to Notting Hill Gate. I walked a bit, the famous market doesn’t begin for several blocks. Once you see pastel painted houses and antique shops, though, you know you’re in the right place. The market stretches the length of Portabello Road on Saturdays and Sundays with vendors selling sorts of strange items from their tables and stalls. One man was selling a collection of wartime and military paraphenalia. He had offciers’ caps and jackets from all sorts of countries- mostly Soviet. He also had a selection of medals. I could have purchased a purple heart for £25 if I’d felt so inclined. I resisted the urge. If I’d bought it I’d probably have had to go all the way and run for president or something.

I picked up some souvenirs for friends and family. I will write about these later as some of them are surprise gifts. I paced up and down the 50 or so blocks of the market until Chris and Frankie showed up to meet me for dinner. I must have walked miles that day. They finally found me in the Castle sipping a pint, but Chris is frugal and Frankie is picky so they opted for the Subway restaurant next door. I sat in the pub enjoying my fish and chips and they had subs next door. I had two beers with my meal, a tall handsome Erdinger and a Fruli, a strawberry lambic that i really enjoyed.

The next day I decided to go to mass. My grandest option was Westminster Cathedral. I was a little down on it when I finally got there. It was enormous, a huge interior space that belied its exterior dimensions, but right off I decided that it was a horrible place to have mass. I’d visited Westminster Abbey first, but imediately decided that I’d seen them in the wrong order. Like I said, this was a terrible place for mass. One of the main problems with all cavernous churches is poor acoustics. This is a common problem that I’ve witnessed everywhere. Rows of pews stretch for miles and by the time the sound from the priest’s mouth reaches the back, it’s a muddled mess. On top of that there, pipe organ music seemed to come from two different locations. The choir would sing from behind and above the altar, but by the time the notes traveled the football field length of the cathedral to the organist in the back, he was already half a beat off. The whole thing was really dreadful and offputting.

I looked up, expecting to see gorgeously adorned ceilings but saw nothing. It was all just dirty bricks. The dome itself was impressive and magnificent in its size, but there was no decoration. One mosaic was arranged on the floor waiting to be epoxied to the ceiling of a side chapel, but that was the only sign I saw of any decoration. I recall many masses and weddings I’ve attended in Saint Bernard’s Church in Mount Lebanon in Pittsburgh, an enourmous church plagued with the same acoustical problems. I remembered that Saint Bernard’s was more lavishly decorated than this, an important Catholic church in London. The church has gold tiled ceilings and a colorful dome that puts many others to shame.

As I sat in this ugly cathedral in England I thought back to churches at home. I guess I didn’t realize that some of the best things can be just inside your own backyard. I might be starting to miss home, just a little.

Regards,

Zack