The necessity of an early start got me in bed by eleven, but I lost an hour's sleep, waking up at six to a blue sky just before dawn. I walked to the station by seven and caught an 18 bus from Cowbridge Road to ease the effort and get me there with extra time to spare. The seven forty five train to Derby left punctually and arrived on time. Going north east, the sun was in my face throughout the journey but not unpleasantly so. The train wasn't full when we left, but filled up completely from Gloucester onwards with students and staff commuting to Birmingham University. Then it filled with another batch of commuters leaving Brum for stations up the line to its Nottingham destination.
When I emerged from Derby station with the 20min walk to the Cathedral I had Google Maps open on my phone. I still can't work out what went wrong, but when I followed the instructions given it took me in the opposite direction. It gave me names of streets but on half of them no street name signs were visible. A townscape of industrial warehouses and five storey buildings on flat terrain made it impossible to see the Cathedral's 200 foot early sixteenth century tower on a 30 foot rise above the level of the river, at any time while I walked for half an hour. I thought I was following the prompt on the map, but evidently not, despite checking several times as I walked.
When Google told me eventually that I had forty five minutes to walk, it meant I would arrive after Geoff's funeral had started. There were very few people on my route to ask for directions. I stopped at a refreshments van called Sarah's Kitchen parked on the forecourt of a Howden's kitchen depot to confirm the grim truth. In distress I explained to the lady in charge why I had to be at the Cathedral by noon.
"Can you afford a taxi?" she asked. "I'll call one for you." Kitchen service halted while Sarah and her work mate Ali rang several taxi firms to find one which would be free to pick get me to the Cathedral urgently. After several tries, she looked up, said "Five minutes" smiled and returned to sandwich making. Five minutes later I was on my way for the ten minute drive around the ring road and back into the city centre. After crossing the river Derwent was I able to see the Cathedral tower on the promontory above for the first time. Thankfully, I was half an hour early. Geoff's friends and associates were already arriving. We were well over a hundred in the congregation, with Bishop David Hamid presiding of the Requiem Mass for Geoff, a former colleague and good friend. His eulogy did Geoff justice. The service was beautifully conceived with the Cathedral choir singing the Kontakion for the Departed as part of the Commendatio Animae at the end.
Apart from Bishop David and Judith, former churchwarden of Nerja where Geoff's European chaplaincy ministry started, his wife Carol and his children Becky and Simon, there was nobody there I knew. After I'd greeted them all, I wasn't in the mood for looking at the city centre or trusting myself to wander around town in the extra hour I had before my bargain train ticket determined I should travel on. I returned to the station to get something to eat at the Gregg's snack bar there, looking for and not finding street name signs on the way, asking passers to check I was going in the right direction.
At least this time the map gave me an overview that made sense but at first sight it was tricky to relate it to what I could see. I thought that routes from city centre to train station would be way-marked adequately. Vehicles yes, but pedestrian signs not as obvious. Cycling signage was fit for purpose and that saved me from taking a wrong turn. I was hungry, thirsty and stressed out by the time I reached the station. Vegan and veggie options were scarce and had to be hunted for on the lower shelves of the display rack. Strange I thought in a city with a strong second and third generation East Asian component of the population, whose kids also eat European fast foods. I got by with a vegetarian sausage roll and a curried veggie pastry slice, waiting more than an hour for the appointed train.
Delays were announced for other trains headed south west. Commuters with more flexible fares than mine piled on to the train after I'd found a seat, filling the aisles to capacity as far as Birmingham, then re-filling for the second leg to Cardiff, despite the number of students getting off at the University stop. I made the wrong choice of seat as I had the setting sun in my eyes all the way to Cardiff. The young man opposite, as well as being tall like me took up floor space between our feet with his travel bag and laptop, reluctant it seems to entrust them to the overhead rack despite the exhortation over the tannoy to do just this. It wasn't a comfortable trip, but I did listen to a couple of episodes of the weekly Archers podcast meanwhile. And there was a 61 bus home within minutes of arriving at Cardiff Central. I walked into the house as tonight's episode of The Archers was starting.
After a light supper I went out for a short walk at sunset to de-stress myself then went to bed, tired at ten. I'm so used to navigating my way around any new place relying on what I can see in the environment as well as a map, that today's experience was distressing. Not something I want to repeat. On the positive side, I experienced the kindness of two strangers going out of their way to get me to the church on time to say goodbye to a dear friend and fellow pilgrim, from the Halesown where we met, to the Costa del Sol. May he rest in peace.
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