The Holy Island of Lindisfarne

The Holy Island of Lindisfarne is one of those strange, mythical places that until relatively recently I knew very little about. Of course I'd heard of the Lindisfarne Gospel (as a long time illuminated manuscript fanatic) but honestly I knew little else about this distant place.
A good friend of mine recommended visiting Holy Island and sang its praises as an amazing place to visit. Also, after watching the fantastic TV series 'Vikings' I gained a little more basic knowledge about Lindisfarne and its role in history. A few documentaries later and a bit more basic reading later and my appetite was suitably wetted.

Nothing had in actuality quite prepared me for Lindisfarne. I wasn't expecting what this incredible place had to offer or how it would make me feel. It was honestly nothing short of magical. And in reality, I cant wholly explain why.
The approach across the miles of causeway was in itself an unusual experience and felt like the beginning of an adventure. Knowing that the times of the tide are crucial and how quickly the causeway is lost to the sea there was a mixture of fear and excitement about it all.

The landscape itself was increasingly breathtaking the further from the mainland you go. This incredible swathe of low land which looks as though it could be washed away in an instant. Sand that goes on for miles, but you know it wont be that way for long. And there it was, on a mound of land erupting from the sea, Lindisfarne Castle. Everywhere around heather and wildflowers dance in the breeze and the grass which is pale as straw seems to sway with the sea. The sandy shores seem reflected in the buttery stone of the old ruins of the Priory which the Vikings plundered centuries ago.

I can't deny that Holy Island had a special feeling. Ancient, deep rooted, celtic. At the edge of England and the farthest North I've ever travelled in the UK I felt strangely at home. This rugged coast line is not something a landlocked Nottinghamshire lass gets to see very often, and it was just perfection. 

And to top it all off, as with most great places people have lived, there was a lovely graveyard. Perched behind the Priory ruins surrounding the quaint little church sit many graves of varying age. Looking out to the sea almost surrounding it I never fail to see some beautifully poetic, hopelessly romantic aspect about being beside the sea for all eternity.
Seaside graves are always interesting. 'Lost at sea' 'Died in a great storm' 'Shipwrecked' are often some of the untimely deaths recorded, and generally stones decorated with anchors and ships pepper the cemeteries, showing the importance of the sea to these people, in life, and death.

My only regrets regarding Lindisfarne are that I did not visit this otherworldly place sooner, and that I did not get to spend more time in it on this occasion (down to the timing of the tide unfortunately). Lindisfarne was one of those rare places that before you have even left, you're planning your return. I desperately hope to make it back to Holy Island in 2019 and explore more of this breathtaking place.

For me The Holy Island of Lindisfarne felt like my own little Summerisle, only, I'm no Sergent Howie ...

Tomb of Francois II Duc de Bretagne

During my visit to Nantes earlier in the year I was lucky enough to visit a number of stunning churches and cathedrals. My favourite was Cathedrale de Saint-Pierre et Saint-Paul, its sheer scale and quiet, tranquil atmosphere was beautiful in itself, yet there were so many incredible details and unique elements to be seen within the Cathedral. One of these incredible sights to behold was the Tomb of Francois II Duc de Bretagne and his wife Marguerite de Foix.

I suppose in the vast grandness of the Cathedral it might be easy to pass by a tomb, even one as elaborate as this. However I'm not one to carelessly pass by any monument to the macabre. My ongoing interest in Gisants is always well satisfied in France, and the Duc de Bretagne's Tomb was no exception.
Instantly I was struck by the stunning sculptures which made up the massive monument. At each corner of the Tomb stands one of the four cardinal virtues, each with its own symbolic elements representing each virtue. Courage stands armor clad forcing a mighty dragon from the tower cracking under her might. The great serpent figure represents Satan and the root of evil. Temperance holds reigns and a clock, representing restraint, balance and self control. Justice holds a double edged sword and the book of law with balanced scales upon it, both representing balanced, fair judgement. And lastly, my favourite of the sculptures, is Prudence. The image looks to have been closely modeled to resemble the daughter of Francois II, Anne de Bretagne. She gazes into a looking glass, holding a pair of compasses, representing self discipline, guidance through wisdom and reason. At her feet sits a snake, which along with the mirror is the symbolism typically associated with this virtue and used in many personifications of 'Prudentia'. Most intriguingly the face of an emotionless old man sits within her hood, staring blankly towards the Gisants of the dead. The old man, perhaps, represents the inner wisdom of Anne de Bretagne.

The Gisant's of Francois and Marguerite lay recumbent in in their state of eternal rest, looked upon by angels and protected by the most loyal creatures at their feet. A Lion lays by the feet of the Duke, a symbol of his dynasty and adorned with his coat of arms, while a Greyhound wears his wife's heraldic shield.
Around the Tomb itself stand mourners, the 12 apostles and the patron saints of the deceased. Each one in carved in tiny scale and incredible detail, just one of the many exquisite details of the Tomb.

The craftsmanship of the Tomb is second to none. It was commissioned in 1499 by Anne and her new husband King Louis XII of France. The Tomb took 8 years to complete and was designed and created by the most skilled, talented craftsmen of the time. Michael Colombe sculpted the Tomb from the finest Marble sourced by an Italian artisan. The Tomb has survived being moved, the revolution and over 500 years of history, but now rests back in the Cathedral at Nantes where Anne wanted a fitting monument to her parents to honour their memory forever.

The Tomb is one of the finest examples of sculpture I have seen outside of a museum. With an incredible fineness and haunting realism the ghostly white marble faces look out through history mourning what must have been two truly loved people.

Courage

Temperance

Prudence

Justice

Norwich Cathedral

A spontaneous visit to Norwich Cathedral this week provided me with the opportunity to view some incredibly interesting and inspirational ecclesiastical architecture. Norwich's cathedral is famed for its beauty, however having never visited East Anglia before I was keen to experience the charms of the city.

The Cathedral certainly has an eventful history. Began in 1046, the Cathedral was built on the site of two Saxon churches, but after completion it was struck by lightening, damaged in riots, lost its spire to high winds, had works halted by the arrival of the Black Death and was defaced and partly demolished by a Puritan mob.

The building which stands today is certainly an impressive piece of ecclesiastical architecture, with the second tallest spire and second largest cloisters in England the scale of the Cathedral is as grand and pompous as its decorative details.
My favourite part of the Cathedral was its moody cloisters encircling a grassy courtyard. The beautiful stained glass windows look out to the insular labyrinth, while the graves of the dead pave the floor and their coat of arms line the walls, faded and forgotten.

At the Graves

Saint Lawrence Church in Eyam is a fairly typical English church, with most of the features you would expect to see in a modern Anglican church. However Eyams plague history means that among the hundreds of graves are a rare few of those who lost their lives to the plague. The graveyard is one of the most charming I have visited in England, with many beautiful old headstones, long forgotten and untended. The churchyard is dominated by an 8th Century Saxon Cross, which combines a mixture of Pagan and Christian imagery in its carvings and the tomb of Catherine Mompesson, wife of the Churches Reverend, whom died of the plague in 1666.