Holy Island, Part 1

May 9-13, 2022

Hello Friends,

I made it to Holy Island! It is wonderful to be back here once again. I arrived here a couple of days ago after leaving the QM2. The journey here took two days, but I took my time. After disembarking at 7:00 AM Sunday morning, I took a taxi to Birmingham, about an hour and a half away. I could have taken the train, however; it was an early Sunday morning and the train station was unmanned. The only way to get a ticket was to get one out of a machine and I am not comfortable with using my card in machines. Plus, the first train going to Birmingham would not come through until three hours later. So, I found a taxi arriving at the Macdonald Burlington Hotel Birmingham at 10:30 AM.

By this time, I was very hungry, not having had any breakfast yet, and decided I would have a “Full English Breakfast”. First, however, I checked into the hotel, which was historical and elegant. Dark, heavy wood framed the doors, with high ceilings, and large rooms with ornate, but comfy furniture. I booked this hotel because it was close to the train station and was in fact one of those lovely historical train station hotels that I seem to be drawn to lately. My room obviously was not ready yet, and so they stored my luggage for me, then I headed into the hotel restaurant.

I usually only have one Full English Breakfast each trip to England, and so I figured this would be it. It was delicious- one perfectly fried egg with no brown edges, two pork sausages, back bacon, baked beans, fried mushrooms, a grilled tomato, potato cake, and toast with real butter and orange marmalade. Fattening? You bet. Delicious? Oh, yes! Now, there is a difference between British and American breakfasts. First, the egg is done in such a way that the white is completely cooked and the yolk is cooked only on the edges, leaving the center soft to dip toast in. I have not been able to figure out how they do this perfectly every time, but they seem to. Also, there is never a brown crusty edge on the eggs. The sausage is different as well. The texture is more like a hotdog but with a “familiar to Americans” crispy casing. The back bacon is more like thin Canadian bacon, not at all like our bacon. However, the baked beans are very like our pork and beans. So, I ask, who is the inventor of pork and beans? I am not sure, but my British friends assure me they are.

I spent the day collecting a few items I would need for Holy Island, including my train ticket for the next day. I needed some craft items for my scrapbook, as well, mostly stickers that were British-made. Then at 5:00 PM, I went to Evensong (Sung Prayer Service, usually out of the Book of Psalms) at St. Martin-in-the-Bull Ring Birmingham Parish Church and then dinner at the hotel.

I had what is called “half board” at the hotel. For those who do not know what this is, it is where your room, breakfast, and a 2 or 3-course dinner are included in the price. When traveling in the United Kingdom, this option is often available, and I usually take it. This is because my meal then is already prepaid and I only need to purchase my drink. On this particular set menu, I had two appetizers, three entrees, and two desserts to choose from. Out of these options, I could choose from two courses. I chose a beet and goat cheese salad with walnuts and thinly sliced watermelon for my appetizer, and Sea Bass for my entrée.

The next morning after breakfast I took the train to Berwick- Upon- Tweed, arriving mid-afternoon and then a taxi to Holy Island. This journey had to be pre-planned in advance because of the tides around the island. Twice a day (sometimes more times each day) the tide comes in and washes over the road leading to the island so that it is not possible to cross. The tides are such that crossing over by ferry is not an option and so at least twice a day the island is cut off from the mainland.

On May 9, the day I arrived at Holy Island, I knew a taxi could take me across when I arrived on the train. I knew this because they have the times of the tides for each day of the year and you can look this up on the Internet. I knew also that the day I needed to leave Holy Island, I would have to leave by 11:00 AM to get back across to the mainland before the tide came in.

I have only been to Holy Island once and that was twenty-two years ago. It had been December then and I had been the only one on the bus, a bus that only came and went one day a week. The island then had been very quiet with no traffic or tourists. Everything had been closed except one restaurant and a small grocery store. This time, however, the island was swathed with tourists. As the taxi drove up onto the island, I saw lines of people walking along Pilgrims Way and up from the car park, filing into little shops and restaurants. I wondered how they would fit inside the tiny stores.

The cab dropped me off at the Manor House Hotel and I walked inside where there was a pub. It was mid-afternoon and fairly quiet except for a family who had been out walking and had come in for a cup of tea. Their Border Collie looked up as the door behind me closed, and I saw then a young woman behind the bar. She smiled and I asked her where I could check-in.

“Right here,” she said. “You must be Jody. You have the nicest room in the hotel. Top floor, but wait till you see the view!”

I followed her up three flights of stairs and into the room. A canopied bed stood against one wall and out the window directly in front of me I could see the ruins of the Lindisfarne Priory, right outside my window. I gasped at the sight and the young woman laughed a bit. “Yes,” she said. “Many people have the same reaction.”

Then I turned to my left and out of that window, I could see Lindisfarne Castle and the North Sea.
“Wow!” I said, “Beautiful!” The young woman grinned. “Yes, you see why this is the favorite room. I hope you enjoy it.”

Smiling, I spent the next hour unpacking and settling in. I arranged my art pencils and scrape book in one area, my journal next to my bed, then hung up my clothes before going down to the pub for a half-pint of local beer. I had ahead of me three full days of spiritual quiet and bliss. What would I do with them?
I will tell you in the next letter. Until next week! God Bless- Jody