Lake Como: the Abbey of Piona, St Lucia (Perledo) and the via di Pino

 During a recent holiday to Lake Como - our first overseas visit since the pandemic - Zero and I visited three places of Catholic interest.

The first was the Cistercian abbey of Piona, towards the northern end of the Lake. The road to the abbey is somewhat involved, and the last kilometre or so is a pebbled road. This site gives a better account of the Abbey in English than wikipedia; the abbey's own website is in Italian: Abbazia di Piona. A page of the abbey's site contains a range of photographs which give an idea of the environment at the Abbey. Two of these photographs show the tabernacle positioned on the altar of the church, an arrangement which on previous visits to the Abbey had struck me as being particularly suitable for the praying of the Divine Office. Both the monks sitting in the sanctuary "behind" the altar and the lay faithful in the nave would have an orientation towards the Lord in their prayer.

From the sanctuary looking towards the nave 

From the nave looking towards the sanctuary

However, at the time of this visit the tabernacle has been moved from the altar and is now situated at the side of the sanctuary - roughly in the place of the lectern shown at the right hand side of the first picture above. The effect is to reduce the sense of the centrality of the Eucharistic presence in the Church. 

On the eve of the solemnity of the Ascension of the Lord (though in Italy the solemnity was celebrated on the following Sunday), we attended Mass in the small village of Perledo above Varenna. We have stayed in Perledo on previous visits to Lake Como, and it has spectacular views across the lake. Weekday Mass was celebrated in the small chapel of St Lucia, with Zero and I making the congregation up from three to five. Mass was nicely celebrated, and the thought that weekday Mass was celebrated here three times during the week for such a small congregation was moving.

During this visit we stayed in a locality called Pino, south of Varenna and above Fiumelatte. A five minute walk along the via di Pino from where we were staying there was a roadside shrine to Our Lady. Nearby was a restaurant where we ate on two evenings, and it was from the restaurant that we first heard the Rosary being recited by the shrine. It was rather lovely on our last evening to join the twenty or so people who had gathered each evening in May for the Rosary, and to see a road side shrine being decorated with flowers as the focus of this devotion.

Both our experience in Perledo and on the via di Pino reminded me of Pope Francis' observation, made at an early point in his pontificate, that popular devotion represents the inculturation of the Gospel.

Corpus Christi by Lake Como

I recall that, early in his pontificate, Pope Francis observed that it is popular devotions that represent the inculturation of the Gospel in a particular place. I was reminded of this last week when Zero and I were able to take part in the celebration of the Solemnity of Corpus Christi in the town of Bellano on Lake Como. We had noticed earlier in the week a notice of the celebration of the feast to take place on the Thursday at the Church of Saints Nazaro and Celso in the town square.

A solemn Mass, at a level that might have been typical of a reasonably capable parish, was celebrated at 8 pm. Ambrosian Rite (scroll down the page to find an account of the differences of the Ambrosian Rite from the Roman Rite), including with the particular Eucharistic Prayer that that rite has for the celebration of Maundy Thursday and other Eucharistic feasts. I particularly noticed the manner of the incensations (you can't really miss it!) and the blessing of the readers.

As Zero expressed it, the parish priest was someone who visibly communicated the joy of Christ (I'm not sure how well I translated that into Italian for him at the end of the procession!). The first communion children and their families were out in force, and there was a comfortably full Church. There was a choir, and three concelebrating priests. Parishioners seemed to be very familiar with the hymns being sung.

At the end of Mass we all moved out of the Church to form up outside for the Eucharistic procession. This was well organised - we were organised to walk in two lines at either side of the road, led by a cross and candles, with the town band about half way down the procession and the Blessed Sacrament carried under its canopy towards the rear. Loudspeakers carried on poles ensured that all could hear the meditations (on Gospel accounts of the meetings of Jesus with people on the roads), and the band played gentle music during times of our own meditations. The procession followed a loop around the town, including along the main lake side provincial road which was closed for half an hour or so. At the lake, there was a pause while the lake was blessed with the Blessed Sacrament, and a prayer offered of both thanksgiving for the lake and sorrow for those who have died in accidents on the lake.

And then back to the Church, through the narrow lanes of the town, for concluding prayers and Benediction. As we all left the Church, the town band played a short concert in the square outside.

Over the years, Zero and I have taken part in several Eucharistic processions during our holidays - one year at Rivotorto parish during a visit to Assisi and on another occasion at the International Eucharistic Congress in Quebec in 2008. Bellano provided an experience as moving as any of them.

Visit to Berlin - an exercise in (n)ostalgia

It is impossible to visit Berlin without being prompted to reflect on how a city should remember its past (whilst at the same time allowing its citizens to live their present time); and also being prompted to reflect on the meaning of freedom. As you might aim to visit one particular location, you inevitably encounter others that are full of meaning. I am sure that Zero and I missed much of significance.

In the crypt of the Catholic Cathedral of St Hedwig, located in a square just off the Unter den Linden, there is a chapel with the tomb of Fr Bernhard Lichtenberg. The display case at the right hand side contains a dedication from the Yad Vashem memorial, recognising Fr Lichtenberg as a "righteous among the nations". His story can be found at their site here. Fr Lichtenberg was beatified by Pope John Paul II.

The Memorial to the Murdered Jews of Europe is very much on the tourist trail, being just a few steps from the Brandenburg Gate. The nature of the field of stelae, and its immediate position in a square surrounded by ordinary life, is such that people interact with it in widely different ways - climbing up, walking among the slabs, taking in the sun lying atop the lower slabs. Towards the outskirts of the city, but I suspect more moving to visit, is the "Gleiss 17" memorial at Grunewald S-Bahn station. This marks the railway platform from which the Jews of Berlin were deported to concentration camps. The edge of the platforms record the date of each transport.

We did come across the Kaiser Wilhelm Memorial Church on our way elsewhere, but it is well worth a visit. The remains of the old church, badly damaged during the Second World War, stand alongside a very modern new church; and the closeness of the location to the most prosperous streets of Berlin is thought provoking (Kurfurstendamm is just a couple of blocks away). There is a particular link between the Memorial Church and Coventry Cathedral (and see here), both new buildings being consecrated on the same day. The Memorial Church contains the original "Stalingrad Madonna", which is quite moving to visit in the visual atmosphere created by the stained glass of the modern church. The Church represents a striking symbol of reconciliation in the particular circumstances of the aftermath of the Second World War - but it also prompts a contemporary reflection as to whether, in comparable circumstances now, that attitude of forgiveness and reconciliation prevails over hatred and fear.

It is tempting to say that one cannot escape an encounter with the Berlin Wall during a visit to present day Berlin. I think that is true - but I think there is also a sense in which it is possible to visit Berlin and ignore the Wall. The double row of cobble stones that in many places marks where the wall once stood does not attract much attention. Traffic drives over it in the roads on the western side of the Brandenburg Gate, and even at Checkpoint Charlie the precise line of the Wall is almost ignored by visitors to a location that has something of a theme park atmosphere to it. Alexanderplatz, now a busy transport and shopping hub in what used to be East Berlin, through which Zero and I passed regularly during our visit, was the scene just days before the Berlin Wall came down of a huge rally calling for political change in East Germany. The memorial to Peter Fechter, which is just two minutes walk along Zimmerstrasse from Checkpoint Charlie, is visited by very few of those who form a kind of procession from the Unter den Linden down Friedrichstrasse to the former crossing point itself. I left Zero in a nearby bar while I went off to find the memorial, with the aid of a search via my mobile phone. The present day memorial is not the original (see here). The double line of cobble stones marks the position of the Wall when Peter Fechter died in 1962, and the circular slab in the ground the point where he died. The memorial pillar is in what would in 1962 have been West Berlin; the image below is taken from what would have been the death strip on the East Berlin side of the Wall.

Whilst near the centre of Berlin, the Berlin Wall Memorial is not directly in the normal path of tourist visitors. I think it will be to visit on another occasion.

A visit to the Olympic Stadium had a personal interest as well as a historic interest. The stadium is still used by Hertha BSC football club; and, when Zero and I visited, the former Olympic swimming pool was being used by local families, with that unique sound of children playing in water reaching the visitors to the stadium proper. That this resource is still used by the local community rather than being discarded because of its associations with the Nazi regime, suggests a city that has not forgotten its past, but which does wish to live in its present. The stadium underwent a major renovation between 2000 and 2004.

The personal connection came, not from the stadium itself, but from one of the administrative buildings in the Olympic park. This now houses an exhibition relating to the history of German sport, administrative offices supporting German sport and the offices of Hertha BSC football club.  Today it looks like this:

In 1956/57, it looked like this:

Apart from its occupants, the only difference is the stone in front of the flag pole which commemorates the use of the building as the Headquarters of the British Military Government and of the British Garrison in Berlin between 1945 and 1994.

In 1956/57, my mother (far right, in the photo below) was serving as a clerk with the Allied Staff Berlin, whose offices were somewhere at the back of the building. I haven't been able to work out exactly which unit my father (sitting next to mother in the photo) belonged to at this time. 

Our last visit in Berlin was somewhat quirky. The Café Sybille on Karl Marx Allee. Karl Marx Allee really is very sleepy and quiet, though only two U-bahn stops from Alexanderplatz. Café Sybille is a decidedly retro venue, with a small exhibition of the history of the now Karl Marx Allee, AKA Stalin-Allee (before the latter's fall from grace - both the man himself and his statue on this street). There are sufficient English commentaries attached to the displays to make a visit worthwhile, but an ability to read the full German language displays would have been an advantage.

Again, Karl Marx Allee is one of those places in Berlin with a history that is easily missed during a tourist visit. It was the workers building along this street in 1953 who first began the protests that became the 17th June uprising in East Germany - the first uprising against the Communist powers in a satellite country after the Second World War. It was put down with the help of Soviet tanks, after the workers had marched from what is now Karl Marx Allee to the area of the Potsdamer Platz.

Which perhaps exemplifies my first thought in this post - that you cannot visit Berlin without reflecting on the ideas of memory and freedom.







Recently visited ..... Leicester and Richard III

Whilst Leicester itself is not the most attractive of cities, the area around Leicester Cathedral is more amenable to the visitor. There is a largely traffic free shopping area known as "The Lanes", with small shops and cafes/restaurants. (Further from the Cathedral is a less attractive shopping area which does have some big name shops and a market that appeared to be strong on fruit and veg. If you are into retail therapy you might enjoy...).

Just opposite the Cathedral there is now a visitor centre, marking the place at which King Richard III's body was discovered. The centre has been very well designed, and, if you are doing your pilgrimage in honour of Richard III, you should go to the visitor centre. It tells the story of King Richard's reign and death at the Battle of Bosworth (ground floor) and the archaeological search for the Greyfriars and King Richard's body (first floor) in a very exciting way. It might be as well to pre-book your ticket - Zero and I found the centre comfortably busy when we visited on a Saturday afternoon. The visitor centre website gives a good impression of the centre.


At the end of your visit, you are able to look down through a glass floor to view the excavated site of Richard III's burial. Lighting shows how the bones of Richard's body were laid out when the burial was uncovered. This is a separate room, slightly apart from the rest of the visitor centre, and succeeds in giving a sense of reverence in the presence of the burial place of a King. As the website of the visitor centre says:

Visitors return to the ground floor to complete their experience with a visit to the site of King Richard’s burial, preserved in a quiet, respectful setting and with a contemplative atmosphere, fitting for the last resting place of a slain warrior and anointed monarch.

From the visitor centre it is just a few steps to Leicester Cathedral and a visit to King Richard's tomb - when Zero and I visited there was a 5 or 10 minute wait in a queue to visit.  The Cathedral is a very light building (on a sunny day, at least) and the tomb has been presented very well. The bridge across which Richard's body was returned to Leicester after the Battle of Bosworth is a 5 minute walk away.

The satellite image on Google maps is, of course, a few years out of date .... and shows the social services car park that used to cover the site of the Greyfriars and Richard III's burial place.

Confessors for the Faith

Fr Tim drew attention to this article by Simon Caldwell a day or so ago.

Two weeks ago , Zero and I visited Vienna. On the Sunday morning, we joined the Vienna English Speaking Catholic Community - a kind of "personal parish" meeting the needs of English speaking Catholics in the city - for Mass. As it happened, St Francis of Assisi Church was just 5 minutes walk from the hotel we were staying in. It was quite an impressive Church building, though Mexikoplatz in which it was located was a bit untidy in appearance. The apse end of the Church overlooks the Danube river in quite an imposing kind of view. The square is named as it is because Mexico was, according to a stone in the square, the only country to speak out against Adolf Hitler's annexation of Austria. Five minutes in the other direction from our hotel was the Prater - but that was for later in the day, with the Reisenrad and Praeterturm as highlights.

After Mass we were asked to greet a Syrian family who had recently begun to attend Mass with the community. It is one thing to have followed the stories of the persecution of Christians in Syria and Iraq, but it is quite another to meet a family that have themselves experienced that persecution. Fortunately, Zero kept herself rather more together than I did .... Though this experience was totally unexpected, it was certainly an irreplaceable part of our visit to Vienna.

A Letter from Lake Como

Romano Guardini's Letters from Lake Como were written as a series of articles, the first appearing at Pentecost 1923 and the last in 1925. In late 1926, they were first published in a book with the aforementioned title; Guardini's preface has the dateline "Varenna on Lake Como, September 1926". The theme of the Letters is the relationship of technology to human culture; Guardini suggests that we face the danger of our adoption of technology creating such distance between us and the natural world around us that it constitutes a domination of that nature rather than the collaboration with it that makes for a genuinely human culture.

A particular passage from Guardini's book has always struck me, a passage in which he compares the (former) sail boats that would have plied the lake to the diesel engine boats of more recent provenance:

.... in the finished sailing vessel, a certain distance from nature has already occurred. We have both withdrawn from nature and mastered it. Our relation to it is now cooler and more alien. Only in this way can any work of culture, of mind and spirit, be done. Yet do you not see how natural the work remains? The lines and proportions of the ship are still in profound harmony with the pressure of the wind and waves and the vital human measure. Those who control this ship are still very closely related to the wind and waves. They are breast to breast with their force. Eye and hand and whole body brace against them. We have here real culture - elevation above nature, yet decisive nearness to it.

Perhaps more than a sailing vessel, this is true of the traditional fishing boats of Lake Como, rowed from a standing position. Zero and I did see one of these boats on the lake during our recent visit.

Guardini goes on to contrast the sailing vessel with diesel engine boats:

... It grieves me when I see built into one of these vessels, these noble creations, a gasoline engine, so that with upright mast but no sails the vessel clatters through the waves like a ghost of itself.... In the sailing ship we had a natural existence, for all the presence of mind and spirit in the situation. We had our being in a natural culture. In the modern steamer, however, we are in an artificial situation; measured by the vital elastic human limits, nature has been decisively eliminated .

In the twenty-first century, Lake Como is criss-crossed by ferries such as that shown in the picture above. We might not now see them as being alien to a human culture in the way that Guardini did. One might instead apply his analysis to the numerous speed boats that move noisily around the lake during weekends, or to the servizio rapido. Whilst the ferries do at least respect the zig-zag geography of the lake and its landing stages, the hydrofoil appears (at least seen from above the lake on the road that runs down its western side) to challenge that geography, trying its best to simply forge a straight line from one end to the other.

On one day of our stay, Zero and I took the conventional ferry from Caddenabia down the western arm of the lake to Como. It is a wonderful way to appreciate the lake. If you do a Google search for "Lake Como" and select images, you will see something of the beauty of the lake and its shores. Como itself has a lovely mediaeval centre and a Cathedral. It is the home city of Alessandro Volta, and there is a museum near the harbour dedicated to him (I missed this - I should have read the tourist guide ...but have since been advised by a fellow physics teacher that it is actually worth missing).

On another day, we went on an excursion on the Bernina express railway. Views were spectacular. Movies here (short) and here (long, but with more views). St Moritz ... we can say we have been there now but, out of the ski-ing season, there is not a lot happening there. At the Italian side, the railway begins at a town called Tirano, which has a Marian shrine in the centre of its main square. The Church itself is baroque-to-be-missed; the guide for our excursion diplomatically advised us of the primitive nature of the public "facilities" in the square.

During a visit to Milan, the Cathedral was a joy - Gothic not baroque. The arrangements for the celebration of the mid-day Mass (a rather temporary arrangement of chapel, altar and Tabernacle hidden behind the main sanctuary) lacked inspiration. The opportunity to recognise the subtleties of the Ambrosian Rite was spoilt by a priest who appeared, so far as I could tell at least, to ad-lib all round everything that was specific to that Rite.

Around the central part of the lake itself, it was easy enough to take a short ferry ride to visit other places along the lake for a walk or a sit and read of a book. It is a beautiful place to spend some time ...

Olympics Week One

Saturday 12.30: depart East London
Saturday 18.00: arrive Llangattock, dinner at the Red Lion Llangynidr.

Sunday: lazy stroll along the bank of the River Usk, followed by evening Mass in Abergavenny. Don't do mornings on holiday. Below is the bridge across the Usk at Crickhowell, taken mid-afternoon. Please note my artistic catching of the sunlight on the small water fall just below the bridge.

Monday: Walk from Llangenny up Sugar Loaf Mountain and back. NOT a lazy walk! Lunch at the top, caught in a shower, but otherwise a good walk. Brilliant views. Top of Sugar Loaf Mountain before the shower:

Tuesday: Table Mountain. Easy after Sugar Loaf. Evening: dinner at Red Lion, as above, and watch first half of the womens Team GB football at Wembley - drive back to our "home" in time for second half. [PS: brother-in-law and three nephews/niece at Wembley for this game, on first tier above what was the Brazilian goal in the first half! They had a wonderful time.] Some photographs from Table Mountain, the first looking across to Sugar Loaf Mountain ... see the difference! The second was a picturesque spot on the (longer) way back down.

Wednesday: pilgrimage to Hay-on-Wye. Very restrained, only £38 spent. A history of the Trades Union Congress and a collection of articles on the unity of Christians by Cardinal Bea, published on the eve of the Second Vatican Council. As in reading some books on matters liturgical published at about the same time, it is interesting to see what was taken for granted before "the changes".

Thursday: A superb walk from the Brecon Beacons visitor centre. Brilliant views and very varied terrain. It wasn't quite as gentle as the blurb suggested, with a couple of sustained sections of steep-ish uphill. And about a mile out from the finish we were treated to a red kite sweeping across before us on the hunt for a late lunch or an early dinner. Rather less in keeping was the RAF helicopter which flew just 20 m or so above us about 10 minutes later!

Friday: Llangattock and the Craig y Cilau nature reserve. The walk we did took us on a downward loop into Llangattock village, a short stretch along the Brecon and Monmouth Canal .... and then a steep climb up to about half way up the escarpment. Part of our route was the path of the former tram way (ie single track horse drawn railway) used to bring limestone down from the cliffs to the canal. Lovely views from the top of this climb while we had our lunch. We got a bit confused at one point on the way along the escarpment and down into the valley again:

Saturday morning: a visit to the Big Pit at nearby Blaenavon. This is Wales' National Coal Mining museum. We found the undergound tour disappointing compared to that at the English National Coal Mining museum, but some of what is demonstrated undergound in the latter is shown in above ground exhibitions at the Big Pit. The exhibition in the pit head baths and the Mining Galleries are an important part of a visit to the Big Pit. The buildings have been preserved much as they were when the mine ceased operating, so the offices and lamp room have a dated feel! The canaries - used by mines rescue teams to detect poisonous gases - are still kept, too. The slag heaps, now to a large extent covered by vegetation, are visible on the hillside opposite the pit. The interest in mining arises from the fact that my father was Bevin Boy towards the end of the Second World War. He was able to march past the Cenotaph with the Bevin Boys Association on the first occasion that the Association was allowed to join the Remembrance Day parade.

[PS: two nephews at the morning session in the Olympic Stadium to see Jessica Ennis doing the javelin and 100 m heats with Usain Bolt et al, plus others. They were part of a group of competitors who had represented their borough in the 'mini'-marathon race that precedes the London Marathon each year.]

Saturday evening: back home.

Lourdes 3: a holiday as well as a pilgrimage

Our recent trip to Lourdes was intended as a holiday, as well as a pilgrimage, so we took a trip out one day to Pont d'Espagne, a well known resort in the High Pyrenees National Park. The drive up to Pont d'Espagne from the town of Les Cauterets takes you past some beautiful waterfalls. This is not my photograph - I was driving, after all.

From the car park at Pont d'Espagne there is a walk up to the Lac de Gaube, graded in the leaflet as "moderate". We managed it in the expect one hour and 15 minutes.  On the way up:

Once there, after refreshment at the "refuge", we scrambled up among the trees to find some shade and to eat our picnic. The amusement came as one of our nectarines bounced away down the hill, across the path in front of another visitor and on into the Lac de Gaube.

Before coming back down, we paddled our feet in the river flowing out from the lake. COLD - despite the warm looks of the sunny weather.

It was easier coming down. In classic Lake District style, we were able to watch the cloud coming down over the tops of the surrounding mountains as the afternoon wore on. By the time we had got down to the car park again, there was quite a bit of cloud cover.

We were blessed with a lovely day - warm sunshine but a cooling breeze and, at many points in the walk, the shade of trees.

Lourdes 1: or, where have I been for the last week?

Zero and I have just returned from a 7 night stay in Lourdes, a stay intended as both a pilgirmage and a holiday. Our first day, spent in Pau, was somewhat damp to begin with and then got brighter.

In visiting the main Church in the town centre we found leaflets advertising perpetual adoration of the Blessed Sacrament at the Church of St Therese, and duly walked the kilometre or two to reach the said Church. Perpetual adoration was begun in November 2009 at the request of the Bishop of the diocese (Bayonne, Lescar and Orlon - Mgr Aillet), to pray particularly for priestly vocations.

When we arrived, there was no-one present before the Lord (oops! - and this despite what appeared to be an efficient system of regularly committed adorers and substitutes). We stayed for thirty minutes, and someone arrived to take over as we left. I signed the book they had for "occasional adorers", adding the word "Angleterre" after our names.

My own photograph of the exterior of the Church is below; there are some photographs of the interior of the Church here.

This is my photograph of the Adoration Chapel, accessible from the entrance area of the Church, on the right.

The leaflet for the perpetual adoration contains the following quotation from Cardinal Tauran, who is, I believe, the President of the Pontifical Council for Inter-religious Dialogue.

Un monde sans adoration, serait un monde a la seule mesure de l'homme ... Un monde sans adoration n'est pas seulement irreligieux; c'est un monde inhumain.  [A world without adoration, that would be a world whose only measure is man ... A world without adoration is not only irreligious; it is a world that is inhuman.]

After our time of adoration, we betook ourselves to C&A. The branch in Pau is housed in a modern shopping precinct and lacked the historic grandeur of the last C&A branch we visited - in Prague, on Wenceslaus Square. The balcony of the building that now houses C&A in Prague was the balcony on which Vaclav Havel and Dubcek appeared at a key moment in the "velvet revolution".

Now, which constituted the real pilgrimage - the walk out to St Therese and back or the visit to C&A - is a moot point!

Normandy (2): Corpus Christi in Lisieux

We spent the Solemnity of Corpus Christi in Lisieux, visiting the sites in Lisieux associated with St Therese. Given the huge popularity of Therese, and perhaps with an expectation created by the numbers of pilgrims who visit Lourdes, the number of pilgrims present seemed somewhat underwhelming. At Mass in the Basilica on Sunday morning there were groups from Poland, Tahiti and a local French school.

In the town itself, the main sign of devotion to Therese appeared to be a blue line. This line identified a walking route linking all the places in Lisieux associated with Therese. Our guide books suggested, quite unfairly we thought, that the town had been rebuilt in rather uninspiring manner after its destruction during the liberation of France in 1944. The roundabouts in the town had some character - the first one below appearing to have been sponsored by a well known low cost airline.

At Mass in the morning, the Rector of the Basilica took as his text a poem by St Therese. The poem had been printed out and was handed to those arriving for Mass, and we were referred to it during the homily. It was the poem "Mes Desirs aupres de Jesus cache dans sa Prison d'Amour", in which Therese reflects in turn on each of the Liturgical items that come into contact or proximity with the Eucharist. Each verse is represented in the mosaic roundels above the sanctuary of the Basilica. As Father preached, a server displayed the item and a spotlight shone on the relevant roundel. It really was, I thought, a very effective catechesis both on the Eucharist and on the decoration of the Basilica. Father concluded his homily by emphasising the need to receive Holy Communion with reverence and adoration, including when receiving in the hand. My attempt at summary/translations of the eight verses of the poem:

1. Little key, oh I envy you.

Because each day you can open

The prison of the Eucharist ...

2. I wish to be consumed in the Sanctuary close to my God

Like the Lampe of the Holy Place ...

3. Each dawn, I envy you

O Sacred Rock of the Altar.

Like in the blessed cowshed

Upon you will be born the Eternal ....

[At this point Father spoke about the altar stone, with its relics]

4. O Corporal ...

I see Jesus my only treasure

Change my heart, Virgin Mary

Into a Corporal pure and beautiful

To receive the white host

where is hidden your Sweet Lamb.

5. Holy Paten, I envy you

Upon you Jesus comes to rest..

6. Oh, how I envy the blessed Chalice

Where I adore the Divine Blood ...

7. Jesus, holy and sacred Vine...

I am a gilded grape

Who must dissapear for you ...

Under the press of suffering

8. Ah, what joy, I am chosen

From among the grains of pure Wheat

Who lose their life for Jesus

The last, and central, roundel above the Sanctuary of the Basilica does not display an image from the poem. Instead - and most interestingly - it shows an image of a priest and the words written by Therese about the vocation of the priest as she was expressing her aspiration to be and to live every vocation in the Church (these words are sometimes cited, quite unfairly, to suggest that Therese wanted to be a priest as such). These words have a particular resonance as we come to the end of the Year for Priests:

...how lovingly I'd carry you in my hands when you came down from heaven at my call; how lovingly I'd bestow you upon men's souls!

After some lunch, we visited the Carmelite Convent where (most of - there are relics in the Basilica and in a reliquary that visits around the world) Therese's body is preserved. The buildings of Carmel somewhat miraculously survived the bombardments of 6-7th June 1944, which hit the nearby railway station and caused a severe fire in the very street in which the Convent exists.

This was followed by a visit to Therese's family home at Les Buissonets. This was a lovely spot, with a small but steady stream of visitors during the afternoon. We just beat the school pilgrimage, who were being divided into smaller groups for their visit. The sculpture below shows Therese asking her Father for permission to enter Carmel.

And then back to the Basilica for Vespers and a procession of the Blessed Sacrament. Numbers were disappointing for this, so I made a point afterwards of thanking the Rector for the procession, explaining (in my best French, of course) that we had come from England and had seen the notice the procession on the website. Father's reply was "Vive l'internet!". Benediction was given from the altar at the Stations of the Cross behind the Basilica, everything having been done with a splendid degree of care and devotion.

Normandy (1): D-day Festival

That our visit to Normandy coincided with the celebrations of the 66th anniversary of the D-day landings was a complete accident. We arrived by ferry at Ouistreham-Caen on Friday 4th June, stayed in Lisieux for the following three nights, and then finished off staying in Bayeux for the Monday and Tuesday nights. We did not therefore take part in any of the D-day Festival events, but were able to follow the extensive coverage in the local newspapers, and were accompanied on both the outward and return ferry journeys by people visiting for the anniversary.

Impressions?

1. The people of Normandy do celebrate the anniversary of the D-day landings, and do so in a very big way. There is still very much a sense of gratitude to the soldiers who liberated them. Events take place along the whole length of the Normandy coast on which the landings took place. In Arromanche, for example, the principle Mass on the Sunday was celebrate out of doors in front of the D-day museum on the sea-front of this small town. This then integrated with the civic ceremonies of the morning. The newspaper reports of similar events suggested that a ceremony like this would have been attended to two or three thousand people. Another event that caught my eye was a picnic along the sea front - I can't remember where exactly it was. Tables and chairs were set up along a considerable length of the sea wall, and an open invitation extended to residents and visitors to bring along their own picnic. Apparently those arriving a little late rather than early had to perch themselves on the sea wall etc.

2. In Normandy, the events of the D-day landings and the subsequent Battle of Normandy are still very much seen as events that restored to France their freedom. There is a strong recognition of the sacrifice of those who died or were injured during the landings as being a sacrifice made in order to secure freedom, and particularly the freedom of France. The gratitude addressed towards the nations whose soldiers landed on D-day appeared to me to be as strong as ever it was. This is something that I wonder at, given the extent of French civilian casualties caused by Allied bombardments of towns such as Caen and Lisieux.

3. The scale of the D-day landings is brought home when you realise that, for a length of some 80 km along the coast of Normandy, there is hardly a stretch of beach that was not part of one or other of the Allied landing beaches. And that is before you take account of the airborne landings which took place at either flank of the sea borne landings.  Each significant town has its own museum of the events, and memorials dedicated to the military units that landed there.

4. We visited three museums during our time on the Normandy coast. The third was the 360 degree cinema at Arromanches. This cinema is arranged with nine screens forming a complete circle around the audience, who watch the film standing. The film shown is entitled "The Price of Freedom" and blends news reel film and still photographs from the 1944 landings with present day film of the same locations as those shown in 1944. There is no commentary.  One striking sequence shows a farm building that was used as field hospital during the Battle of Normandy. Another striking sequence, filmed I suspect from a helicopter, travels up to what is recognisable as Omaha beach if you have visited it before seeing the film. The sequence takes the audience up the beach, across the sand dunes behind the beach and on up the bluff behind the beach, and then over the large American cemetery that overlooks the beach. Circling over the cemetery, you gain the impression of a never ending field of crosses, each marking a grave. The second was the visitors centre at the American Cemetery overlooking Omaha beach. As well as telling something of the story of the landings themeselves, the centre also includes a number of individual stories. This is well worth a visit. The first museum we visited was that at Ranville, where British glider borne troops succeeded in capturing intact two key bridges at the very beginning of the D-day assault.

5. A bit by accident (I had missed the turning I wanted to take to get to Cabourg), we visited the British and German military cemeteries just outside Lisieux. This is a beautiful spot in the middle of farmland, set a little back from the main road. An interesting feature of these cemeteries is the "peace way", a smartly arranged path way that links the two cemeteries. Mid-way between the two cemeteries is a monument dedicated to reconciliation, indicating that the initiative for this path way came from a range of local French civil organisations. The German cemetery is, in part, maintained by volunteers from Germany on summer camps.

6. At a time when British and American service men are seeing action in Afghanistan, a visit to Normandy does prompt a reflection on how one might understand and value the work that these service men undertake.

County Mayo - or, where I went during my blog break

For an utterly obsessive planner of trips, this was all a bit last minute, or rather, last second. Zero and I booked the flights a mere nine days ahead, and the B+B just four days ahead. Stansted to Ireland West-Knock, and then a hire car. We stayed in Newport. It was a little wet, or, if I am completely honest, absolutely saturatingly wet.

First call on arrival was Knock - the village, not the shrine - with the purpose of breakfast. After meandering round the countryside - my map reading, Zero's driving, we weren't lost, we just couldn't find where we were looking for - we had a walk in the grounds of Westport House.

These are two views of Newport - looking down stream from the road bridge (our B+B is among the houses on the right) and looking up stream (the railway no longer runs across the bridge, the Church is dedicated to ... you guessed, St Patrick). Pub where we had our evening meals is behind you as you look at these pictures.

The next morning, from my bedroom window:

Walking looked off for the day, so Zero drove us down to Linane, where it was still raining. It was possible to, quite literally, see the water pouring off the hill sides as we drove towards Linane.

After a coffee break, our next destination was a town called Cong, where a film called "The Quiet Man" was filmed. Or, so a conversation with a couple of local residents revealed, one scene was filmed. Other scenes were filmed at a cottage in or near Cross, a nearby village - cottage now no longer surviving. Never mind, Cong still lives on the glory of John Wayne and Maureen O'Hara. By now, the rain had stopped and off we went walking in the grounds of Ashford Castle and in the woods near Cong.

[Zero's nostalgia, having had her photo taken at this point in her youth]

The next morning from my bedroom window:

But it did brighten up enough by the time we had finished our breakfast (10 am - ish) for us to get out on a walk.

The three walks at Derradda are only 5 minutes drive from Newport; we did the green one - not because it was the "easy" one, but because it was the only one that didn't involve walking along the main road for a stretch. After negotiating a flock of sheep coming the other way as we started (we were, I think, less of a problem than the two dogs who had come out of nearby garden to greet us), we ended up with one of the dogs as a companion for the walk.

Setting off ...

Windswept ...

Cutting peat ...

Our companion, and the views southwards ...

Back to the hillside to the north ...

Feeding the dog at the end of the walk ...

From here we drove on to Achill, and Achill Sound. From this point - no photos, but we both saw him more than once - we spent about an hour watching a seal. Apparently there is an island full of seals out in Clew Bay, and they come up into the rivers in the area following the salmon on their way to spawning grounds.

Sunday was Knock, for Mass. Now, the day before had been all excitement at Knock (the content of this report is not quite as cynical as the headline), but the Sunday was quite calm. Mass struck me as expressing Irish Catholicism at its best - a very strong devotion on the part of the faithful - and at its worst - a complete lack of any real sense on the part of the clergy that this was Liturgy and was due some objective sense of honour. I am now reading a book about the apparition there.

The representation of the apparition in the statues at the place at which they occurred suggests a tremendous theological richness - the Lamb on the altar, surrounded by the adoring angels speaks of a Liturgy that is essentially an event of Heaven before it becomes an event of Earth in the celebration of the Church. St Joseph and St John the Evangelist accompany the person of the Virgin Mary, whose hands are held in an attitude of prayer.

And, finally, Zero squeezing everything into one bag at the airport ...