Looking for a tasty serving of eggs and toast? Or a bit more? Hoping our trials can help avoid your errors! My husband and I eat breakfast out each Thursday, our day off. We have moved to Salisbury from London, so now head out by foot into town or by car into the Wiltshire coutryside on the hunt for a Cafe (pronounced "caff"). We share our collected experiences, and keep you up to date with the new venues we discover each week. Here goes...

Monday, October 24, 2016

Breakfast in Durham -- in the company of Cuthbert

Breakfast in Durham...in the shadow of the cathedral.

As the sun creeps up over the horizon, over the North Sea, we drive south from Whitley Bay, Northumberland, through the Tyne Tunnel, to the Cathdral City, Durham, in County Durham.  Climbing the hill we find ourselves alone on the ancient ambling streets.   


The grey sky holds back any hint of the now-risen sun.  The great arch doors stand open, welcoming us to the 8:00 am communion service.  No photos allowed inside...


Dean, Canon and Monk guide us through the words of the ancestors, the words of today, the words of the Book of Common Prayer designated for this day, for this morning, for our ears.  The host is shared, and finished.  

The thick Norman pillars rise above us, as they have risen above the faithful for 850 years, their decorative patterns of dogtooth, chevron and lozenge a Durham innovation. The ribbed vaults cross-cross the ceiling, now a familiar architectural style, were first built here -- cutting edge in 1200.

The shrine of St Cuthbert, where his bones lie peacefully after their journey from Lindisfarne, fleeing the Vikings.  In company now it's the skull of King Oswald, great King of Northumberland.  The shrine once enjeweled and gilt with gold, now plain, stripped by King Henry VIII's henchmen.  The question on the sign board... Would you prefer the shrine be shiny with jewels or plain as it is?  

The choir for the later service enters, practicing their procession and recession patterns.  Voices lifted to heaven.  We find the tomb of The Bede, the 7th century writer of Christian history.  




This is a place of pilgrimage.  We add our footsteps to the procession of pilgrims who have trailed their fingertips in the folds of this curtain to the divine.  The procession that trails back almost 900 years to when these stones were raised in glory.

Fed in spirit, our bodies now need nourishment.  We find the local Wetherspoon pub and enjoy our shared large breakfast -- 2 sausage, 2 bacon, 3 hash browns, 4 fried eggs, 3 pieces of toast.  (Yes, we substitute 2 eggs and 1 toast for the mushrooms, tomatoes and beans.)



A stroll along the river, looking up to the castle begun in 1072 for William the Conquerer.  It seems he built the many castles to protect the many cathedrals (and the land he now claimed) that Henry VIII later took apart stone by stone.  One man's cathedral or monastery is another man's rock pile!  One person's extravagant gift to God is another person's source of funds when the treasury runs low.  

The windy streets of Durham have now filled with University students.  Nourished in body and soul, we take leave of this holy place, grateful to leave our footprint on these cobblestones and beside this river.