Good Friday

I've told this story before, and no doubt I'll tell it again, but it's my favourite memory from Good Fridays of the past and from long before bear was born. 

I fail at going to church, but I felt the urge to go to the local church on Good Friday. When I was growing up, my local church had a tradition of a vigil all through Good Friday where people could come and go, but that wasn't happening at the local church and their service was over before I realised. DH very kindly offered to drive me to Leeds Minster, to see if there was a service there. 

Image from WikiCommons, taken by David Dixon and used under the Creative Commons Agreement

Of course, with my amazing timing, everyone was just coming out of the one short service that day. So I made the suggestion that perhaps we could go to Ripon Cathedral. It's a bit of a drive, but we've had some good times in Ripon. Besides, I liked Ripon Cathedral because it was a working church. A lot of cathedrals are all about the history and tourism, but this had crayon pictures from the Sunday School pinned up and a really good feeling about it. 

Image from Wiki Commons, taken by Michael D Beckwith who kindly released it into the public domain on the condition that it is not to be used for commercial purposes

So we headed up the A61 and were doing quite well until we hit Harrogate when we ran into gridlock. We inched along until we reached a junction and then, with absolutely no idea of where we were going or what we were doing, we turned left onto the A59.

I couldn't drive then, but I've had a look at the A59 and it's not necessarily an easy drive. It's the sort of drive, if I remember rightly, where you can see gaps in the wall where over confident drivers have driven through down to the river. It wasn't that long after DH had passed his test so it was a little nervewracking for him although he was awesome. But I saw the signs and it said that we were heading to Skipton. I said that there was a nice church there that may have something on, and that there may be something open on Good Friday for us to get a snack. I expected most places would be closed but there would probably be a petrol station or something. 

Image from WikiCommons taken by Caladon and used under the Creative Commons Agreement

The above image is the market, taken with Holy Trinity Church behind the camera and giving no sense of the absolute bedlam it was that day.

We drove into Skipton. Not only was nearly everything open but the place was absolutely packed. They have a market in the street and it was jammed with people. Cars were everywhere and parking anywhere near the church was impossible. We inched through to the local Morrisons supermarket and parked there. After we caught our breath, we bought the absolutely minimum in Morrisons to cover the parking and then we drove home. We'd picked up some snacky stuff for lunch and were more than ready for it by the time we drew up at home. We had spent maybe ten minutes outside the car thoughout the long journey.

DH looked at the dashboard, looked at me, sighed and said, "We've just driven 79 miles for a cornish pasty." 

My late mother told me that in her young days, the rule was that you couldn't leave your parish on Good Friday. After that cornish pasty, I've stuck firmly to that rule. 

Hugs and good health to all.