There is a moment on pilgrimages called the Mont Joie in French, Monte de Gozo in Spanish. It’s the point when the pilgrim gets their first sight of the building they have come to worship in – on the Camino de Santiago, it’s about five miles from the end and you get a fine view over the city with the towers of the cathedral at its heart.
I had a more modest Mont Joie moment this afternoon, when the spire of Salisbury Cathedral suddenly emerged ahead of us, as we came down from woods outside the city. We were nearing the end of a two day walk from Winchester Cathedral, following the Clarendon Way, which runs for about 26 miles between the two, crossing the River Test and the Hampshire-Wiltshire boundary in the process.
As with the Santiago trip, I had a number of motives for this walk. Exercise was one: it’s a good workout over undulating ground, without feeling like a test to get into the army. Covid-19 put paid to our plans to walk the Ridgeway in the spring, so it was nice to do at least a couple of days instead. We were also able to spend our first night in a hotel for five months, at the White Hart in Stockbridge, a bit off the route but very comfortable.
There’s always interest in seeing a different part of the country. We’ve been to both Winchester and Salisbury several times, but not seen the area in between. It looks a pretty affluent part of the world on the whole – not to say that there won’t be pockets of poverty, but plenty of very nice properties, thatched rooves, roses round the door, lovely. Stockbridge itself has some nice shops: we patronised the Thyme and Tides deli for lunch – smoked trout pate, a local specialty with one guidebook saying that this stretch of the River Test had the best trout fishing in southern England. When we looked down onto the Test from a bridge later in the morning, it was very clear, but not a fish in sight, big or small, though there was a heron in the distance.
The two cathedral cities are clearly rich in history, and we will come back another time to explore them properly. The route between the two was a Roman road, and the Clarendon Way follows that for quite a bit of the time, though it’s hard to discern now exactly where the soldiers would have marched. The route does pass through ancient woodlands, and the remains of Clarendon Palace, a favourite royal hunting lodge from the medieval period, which gives the Way its name. And as usual, there are some surprises and things you spot for yourself: the decoration round the west door at Broughton Church, for instance, dates back to the early 13th century, not world-leading craftsmanship but evocative of its era.
Out in the open air, you can forget the virus still dominating so much of national life, but in the towns and villages it’s never far away. Winchester and Salisbury were both pretty busy actually; not so Waterloo or the tube journey to get there. Local pubs were well geared up for social distancing, and at least most were open.
The main attraction for me, however, came at the end. From my first visit as a teenager, Salisbury Cathedral has been one of my favourite buildings in the world, and of course I’m far from alone. There’s the physical beauty, in the colour of the stone, the proportions, the decoration, and of course the scale and profile of the spire. The setting is wonderful too: the epitome of an English cathedral close, peaceful but open to the public to enjoy, and with some modern sculpture so that it’s not frozen in a previous century. I also find the building inspiring: without sharing the faith that drove the builders, I can admire their ambition and achievement. Worth a long walk, and sent me off with renewed energy which lasts beyond the journey home.