Sad day of loss

We woke up to find the sky no longer overcast, the sun peering through clouds and almost no wind. not a continuation of yesterday's weather, as expected. After breakfast, we set out to walk to church with enough time to get to All Saints Oystermouth Parish church for the ten o'clock Eucharist, a walk of just under a mile to cover in twenty minutes. Google Maps took us along the coast path to Rotherslade cove, bur we were a uncertain about where the pedestrian route was meant to ascend to the main road. After checking we walked up the main street to the junction, which gave us a choice of roads. 

The layout of the digital map with a pedestrian route overlay was unclear and we missed a turning going in the right direction to start with, then got hopelessly lost. At quarter past ten we retraced our steps to the junction, having walked for three quarters of an hour, and missing the service altogether. I was, to say the least upset and angry with myself and with Google Maps which on this occasion was more of a hindrance than a help. Mumbles isn't good at way-marking pedestrian routes anyway, and the newer outskirts of the town are extensive streets of suburban housing which hide landscape features to navigate by.

I had resisted taking the car, preferring to walk, not knowing if there'd be anywhere to leave it while we were in church, parking near a town centre without preliminary reconnaisance a risk not worth taking if you have a set time to be there, before rather than after the church bell stops ringing. Anyway, when we got back to the apartment, I took the car into the town centre, too late for church, but we needed fruit and bread. I'd seen a couple of supermarkets when we arrived yesterday and supposed they'd be open, so I was able to find parking in side street near Tesco's and buy what we needed.

Then I checked on Google Maps were I was in relation to All Sains' church and found it was only five minutes walk away, so I went to inspect. It sits just above the main coast road shopping street, visible from afar. As I entered a group of people were chatting with the priest celebrant over coffee in the area around the baptismal font. A lady welcomer greeted me and we chatted about the church. When she left for home another came and chatted with me. Both were proud of the church and spoke with affection of Archbishop Rowan, a local boy growing up as a choirboy and altar server there, and the beginnings of his call to be a priest and theologian.

The building is on an interesting site, occupied by a centurion's sea shore villa in Roman times, with a small church there from Norman times, built before Oystermouth castle to serve the fisher folk who lived and worked from the shore. This forms the south east Lady chapel of today's large handsome edifice dating from the early twentieth century. Obviously a lively outgoing congregation with strong links to the community it serves, and its holiday visitors. 

I may have missed Mass today, but I was glad to have had a glimpse into the life of a conventional parish congregation that still alive and well if, like most others diminished in number. It was interesting to see above the large west porch a modest suite of rooms had been constructed in restrained modern style bringing the church hall inside the building in effect. It's unusual, but imitates a feature often found in larger mediaeval churches, providing accomodation for the virger or sexton.

The weather was kind enough to enable us to eat lunch at an outdoor table on the sea facing terrace. Then we went for a walk on the coast path as far as the entry to Caswell Bay, stopping for tea at a brasserie on the beach. The further west we went on the undulating concrete cliff side path, the more windy it became, so we turned and retraced our steps.

A massage arrived from cousin Dianne to say that cousin Godfrey died yesterday, aged eighty five. Of the fifteen cousins, he's the fifth to die. All eight aunts and uncles who were Kimber siblings are gone too. Each loss is another sadness. Godfrey was the first of us to graduate with a degree. I followed his example in choosing Bristol University. He married a North Walian, Jean, and settled in Bethesda, learning Welsh and teaching Physics and Maths through the medium of Welsh. He was a committed socialist involving himself in local politics, and was a Labour County Councillor for Gwynedd well after retirement. He's had prostate cancer and his heart trouble meant surgery was too risky. He know this shortly after visiting us at home last year, when we had a lovely catch-up session after many years. He was active also in his local Welsh Baptist church. His religion and politics were inseparable and natural. There aren't many around these days to succeed him in life of public service lived as an outcome of his faith. May he rest in peace. 

After supper we watched 'Frozen Planet II' and then I watched the penultimate episode of 'Bloodlands'. Neither of them left much room for optimism about human nature or the future of the planet. Altogether a sad day of loss.