mmoa_writes

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Durham was, of course, wonderful. The weather was fine (I quite like rain of which there wasn't nearly enough *shrugs*; there was plenty of sun and dryness) and people were as pleasant as Northerners can be to the eyes of a jaded Londoner (it's one of those frequent cases where the stereotype is not only true, but determinedly slaps you in the face... repeatedly). It is actually just a Cathedral city, so it really is little more than a glorified village with a massive hunk of sandstone and native black marble on top of some ancient earth fortifications. Ergo, it is impossible to get lost in. Unless you are an Idiot. No, really - more likely you'll just go round in concentric circles. Which is not quite the same as, like some lesser Hell from Dante's comedy, you will recognise exactly where you are... Small towns are really quite vindictive. Learn from this.

Unfortunately, like all old cities, it is going through 'rejuvenation'. Yes, that's right, government/Council spin for soulless (ie unimaginative, dull, eye-dimming and literally soulless as I tend to find they house personalities... no, humans equally devoid of a collective made up of a healthy mind and body) modern architecture built up using bricks identical in shape and hue. Eurgh. Victoriana is the way to go, with a Gerogian-inspired tower blocks based. Modernism is actually horribly expensive to do right, but well worth it, if you can.

Visited a few museums, took a few pictures, and actually got on okay with my mother (we do try) although I found it a bit jarring being on close quarters with someone else for longer periods of time than I would consider healthy.

As for the, ah, massive hunk of sandstone and native black marble... it is incredibly beautiful. Durham Cathedral was, after all, one of the first attempts at building on such a huge scale. What got me was the fact that if you are in the know, it becomes all the more fascinating rather than... intimidating. I mean, some of the pillars made from Dorset marble is actually eroded into horrible streaks of pitted rock... effectively because of acid rain. Actual sulphuric acid formed from the carbon doxide past congregations exhaled with the soot from burning coal fires. Then there are the hundreds of dainty masons' marks on the walls, and the barely perceptible thousand year old paint...

It makes me realise that Philip Larkin had it right. When a place of worship is so beautiful, if you were alone, you would probably let yourself get swept up with it, in a sort of ecstasy. The problem is the other dozens of people, ('believers', I suppose), who also get swept up along with you.

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And I have an interview for a job on the 21st, and there is the possibility that I will continue with A2 Ancient Greek as I did much better than I thought I would in the AS and terribly in Chemistry, so Ancient Greek may well take the place of the third A level. Either that or... I could just take an OU course which would mean I can write and study at the same time. Only January can tell.