The Pilling Report - some thoughts

The Pilling Report - observations by a Methodist Minister

The following views are my own. They are my own reflections, thoughts and feelings as a result of reading the report. They do not necessarily represent the official views of either the Church of England or the Methodist Church of Great Britain, though I hope that both denominations, and others, will at least take notice of them in their future deliberations.

You may well ask what a Methodist minister in Wales is doing reading the Pilling report, a discussion document for the Church of England. Well, we are certainly not disinterested. The Methodist Church of Great Britain works closely with our ecumenical partners, and indeed, there is a covenant between the Methodist Church and the Church of England. It’s never been fully explained quite how this works with those parts of British Methodism which are outside England, but that’s another matter!

It is certainly useful for the Methodist Church to know what is being discussed by the Church of England, as the Methodist Conference is having similar discussions, and this may help influence the decision one way or another.

Pilling begins by drawing on earlier Anglican reports on human sexuality, going back to 1988 Lambeth Conference which urged members of the Anglican Communion to listen to those who identify as LGBT. Pilling concludes that there has been no systematic listening in the quarter-century since then. (p4) My initial reaction on reading that was to think “Surprise, surprise”. To be fair, I think the key word here is “Systematic” -  am sure that there has been some good listening done by Bishops, clergy and many others, but I guess that this is the exception rather than the rule.

Pastorally, the Church of England’s attitude to LGBT people (and in many areas, the attitude of the wider church) has been a disaster. Again, there are exceptions to the rule, but on the whole, it leaves a lot to be desired. We are not dealing with issues here, but with people, real-life people, people who feel hurt, and, in many instances, who feel that the church inflicts further hurt rather than seeks to heal them. Such a lack of affirmation often leads to low self-esteem, a sense that they are “dirty” or “unclean”, and there are far too many instances of suicide. Surely the church is able to treat people better than this

The report is repentant in tone in several places, it acknowledges that the Anglican Communion has let the LGBT community down, and it expresses a desire to do better.

So what has caused this change in tone? Amongst other things, the passage of the same-sex marriage Bill in the House of Lords. The debate in Parliament, but especially in the Lords showed a sea-change in society’s attitudes to the extent that it is hardly an issue at all for under 35s. The greatest opposition to the Bill in the Lords was from the House of Bishops, and it made them look like dinosaurs of the church. Speaking at the General Synod about the House of Lords debate, Archbishop Justin said,

“The cultural and political ground is changing. There is a revolution. Anyone who listened, as I did, to much of the Same sex Marriage Bill Second Reading debate in the House of Lords could not fail to be struck by the overwhelming change of cultural hinterland. Predictable attitudes were no longer there. The opposition to the Bill, which included me and many other bishops, was utterly overwhelmed, with amongst the largest attendance in the House and participation in the debate, and majority, since 1945. There was noticeable hostility to the view of the churches.

I am not proposing new policy, but what I felt than and feel now is that some of what was said by those supporting the Bill was uncomfortably close to the bone…. We may or may not like it, but we must accept that there is a revolution in the area of sexuality, and we have not fully heard it” (p10)

Of course, some people will respond by saying, “But Scripture says…” Well, it’s true that a face-value reading of certain passages of Scripture may not seem to be good news for the gay community. The report calls on textual experts and those who know their New Testament Greek far better than I do to deal with this from page 67 onwards. What I will say is that Jesus said that the first and greatest commandment is to love the Lord your God, and the second is to love your neighbour as yourself (Matthew 22:37-40) If all the law and prophets hang on these commandments of Jesus, some of the intolerance and even homophobia and hatred from some sections of the church need to be re-visited in the light of this.

The report is right to say that not every argument against homosexuality is to be seen as homophobia. (p102) Indeed, there are difficulties with the word homophobia, as it is a –phobia and not an –ism. Attempts to find a better word have, so far, all failed.

Yes, there is genuine homophobia, and the church, even some sections of the church which might be seen to be against homosexuality are also making a very firm stand against this. Indeed, there is cause to cheer, as the report notes that the Archbishop of Canterbury has committed the Church to combatting homophobic bullying in Church of England schools. (p59) This is to be welcomed on so many levels.

Yet despite repeatedly trying to say that it is not homophobic, the House of Lords debate on same-sex marriage caused the church to ask some difficult questions of itself to see if this really was perceived to be the case. Again, speaking to Synod about the debate, the archbishop of Canterbury says

The majority of the population rightly detests homophobic behaviour or anything that looks like it. And sometimes they look at us and see what they don’t like. I don’t like saying that. I’ve resisted that thought. But in that debate, I heard it, and I could not walk away from it. (p54)

What a sad contrast from half a century ago and the publication of the Wolfenden report. There, the then Bishop of Durham, Michael Ramsey (later Archbishop of Canterbury) was at the forefront of the campaign to decriminalise homosexuality. Now, the Bishops are not being seen as leading the fight for equality, but rather as trying to maintain inequality and injustice.

Much has been made of the Church of England’s stance that there seems to be one rule for clergy and one for laity. Yes, it’s true that clergy are expected to display – well, display what? Higher standards? Well, perhaps, but aren’t we all human? I’m not advocating “Anything goes” for clergy, I’m not advocating that for anyone. The recent example of Paul Flowers has shown what can happen when things get out of control, but the recommendation that there be no more unnecessary intrusive questioning of candidates & ordinands (p114) is to be welcomed. Yet the church does need to be a voice against the anything goes attitude of society.

Perhaps at least some of this could have been avoided if the church had given better teaching and guidance on the matter of singleness. Whilst the Roman Catholic Church insists on celibacy for its clergy, the teaching of the early church of the superiority of celibacy to marriage has largely been reversed, especially, it seems to me, the more Protestant one goes. That is another subject which, as a single male Methodist Minister I could write at length, but I don’t want to get too distracted with a discussion of that here.

The Church of England does not stand alone. It has to look to other branches of the world-wide Anglican Communion and its ecumenical partners. That is referred to on page 23, and is also used as an argument in a dissenting statement by the Bishop of Birkenhead on page 142. This is a valid point, but such discussions have to be 2-way traffic. In the dissenting statement, the Bishop of Birkenhead lists a number of denominations he believes it would damage the Church of England’s relationship with, but interestingly, the Methodist Church and other mainline Protestant churches do not get a mention there. Perhaps he doesn’t care to know what we think? But then, the same argument has been used by the Church of England about the ordination of women, women in the Episcopate and other arguments in church life.

There clearly needs to be a way forward, and there is pressure both within the church and from other sources for an end to the status quo. It looks as if a “Conscience clause” could be a solution. This is what the Church of Scotland has for clergy in same-sex relationships, and what the Methodist Church has for the remarriage of divorcees. Indeed, it is what I and others are advocating for a way forward for the Methodist Church.

I believe that broadly speaking, this is a report to be welcomed. There is much discussion still to be had, and rightly so. In many ways, these reflections do not do it justice. You may be able to pick holes in my arguments, and better theologians than me will be able to discuss the finer points with far more depth and clarity. It’s just my four penn’orth, and all I ask is that in any discussion, you keep it civil. It does provoke strong feelings on all sides, but, writing as I am in the middle of December with the Season of Goodwill fast approaching, may we in all this be able to see more what we have in common than the things which would try to divide us.

Walk on Wales

Freshwater East to Saundersfoot

These 2 days of the walk were rather different in a number of ways. The most important difference being that here I had company. There is a team of Welsh Guards, ex-Welsh Guards, colleagues, friends and supporters who are currently walking the Wales coast path for the Welsh Guards benevolent fund and the charity “Combat stress”. Back in August I saw them on their way at Chester racecourse, and here, Freshwater East, is where their walk reaches the stage I have got to, and as I am free for the next 2 days, our paths can cross here.

Having left the car at Lamphey station, I met up with the walkers back at Freshwater East where we walked along the bay and then headed onto the cliffs. Some of the towns and villages came and went pretty quickly, there was a chance to get our breath at Manorbier, and, about 4 miles further along the coast, a coffee stop at Lydstep. Unfortunately, by this stage, one of the walkers had suffered a sprained ankle and had to continue on the journey by car. The last I heard was that it’s nothing too serious, and he is recovering well.

Another few headlands later, and there were views of Caldey Island from Penally. I don’t know much about the island other than it is the home of a monastery and a community of Cistercian monks. Perhaps a retreat there at a later date might be an option, but I have no plans for that at present.

Another view offered from here was the view across the sands to Tenby. 

To say that I was last here when I was 12, it didn’t bring back as many memories as I thought it might. I remember the holiday, but from what I saw of the town, no, sorry, there wasn’t anything that jogged my memory further. Walking across the sands reminded me of the opening to “Chariots of Fire” I don’t know why it should, we were walking, not jogging and that part of the film was made in Scotland, not Wales, but all the same, the vast expanse of sand was not dis-similar.

Lunch had been provided by one of the cafés (thank-you), then, after a visit to the lifeboat station, there was a slight detour from the official coastal path to go through the High Street.

For the second time in as many stages of the walk, someone stopped me and said “Are you a Methodist Minister?” I can’t go anywhere without being recognised. This lady attended one of my colleague’s churches in Liverpool when I was in another part of the circuit. She was visiting family in S Wales, but all the same, it was quite something for us to both be in Tenby High Street on the same afternoon.

Actually, I was quite glad of the diversion away from my fellow walkers for a moment or two – and I say that for the best of reasons. As the walk passed through the High Street, a record shop played “The British Grenadiers” and “Men of Harlech” through its tannoy. That led to the good people of Tenby applauding the walkers – and very well-deserved applause it was too. Given the stories that I had heard that day, I was happy to be a step removed from the walkers. What reason did I have to receive applause? OK, the walk around the coast path is quite an achievement, but unlike some of the fellow walkers, I haven’t served in Iraq or Afghanistan, I haven’t lost a son in the Falklands It was good to be spending 2 days walking with them, but it was also good to step aside for a moment and join in the applause of them as well.

There had been some hills along the coast path this morning – this is Pembrokeshire after all! There was one particularly steep hill to come for the final push into Saundersfoot. Not only was it steep, but there were a number of steps added to the path. I’m sure these did help, but it was an extra effort. It was very pleasant to make the descent to Saundersfoot where yet another café offered coffee to the walkers. Thank-you.

From there it was a lift to Saundersfoot station (which is nowhere near the town centre!) for the train back to Lamphey before spending a final night at the Travelodge, Pembroke Dock

Day 2 - Saundersfoot to Laugharne.

I began the day by driving to Laugharne and meeting up with the Walk on Wales minibus for the journey back to Saundersfoot.

After meeting my fellow walkers, some of who had joined today, the walk began with a relatively flat stretch to Amroth, which isn’t a big place, but it was emormously significant. It is the town which marks the end of the Pembrokeshire Coast Path. After 13 months, over 180 miles and goodness knows how many feet of ascent and descent along the cliffs, I had done it! It was a great sense of achievement, but this was not even the end of today’s stage of the walk, much less the end of the Wales Coast path, There are still about 200 miles to cover between here and Chepstow.

Anyway, it is an achievement, so there is cause to celebrate. However, celebrations are short-lived, as 3 killer hills to welcome you to Carmarthenshire. Now this is one place where there was a distinct dis-advantage to being part of a large group. It is, of course, only right and proper that we all wait for the slowest walkers before getting too far ahead. 

Unfortunately, the group spread out by quite some way over these hills, causing quite a wait for the faster walkers after hill number 2. I was about mid-way, so I simply took advantage of the time to get my breath back, but I could sense a bit of unease. Some were keen to get on, and  have to admit, had I been walking on my own, I would not have been here for this length of time. However, we all met up again eventually, and one of the slower walkers who was also suffering a bit from asthma decided to call it a day and support from the car for the rest of the day.

From hill number 3, there were stunning views of Pendine and the sands. That was followed by a lovely drop down into the town and lunch.

It looked as if the easiest way to continue the coast walk was to simply walk along the beach. Unfortunately, the sands are MOD-owned, so there had to be a diversion inland. It began as a good pavement alongside a road, w hich was not too bad, but then it turned to muddy fields – including cows walking with us at one point (!) and then a short stretch on a road with no pavement, some blind bends and some quite hairy moments with the traffic.

Eventually, though, there came the final turn off for the path. There had been a bit of an incline on the road, and we thought that was the hill which the leaders had been talking about earlier. Unfortunately, no, that was still to come, but it did offer great views of Laugharne.

Yesterday, the weather was lovely. Today was a mixture of sunshine and heavy showers. To be fair, that was better than the forecast which promised non-stop, torrential rain. Unfortunately, they were the conditions which greeted us on arrival in Laugharne, so it was some very brief goodbyes, then into the car to dry off and start the journey home.

That will almost certainly conclude the coastal walk for another year. I am actually slightly ahead of schedule, which was to finish the Pembrokeshire coast by Christmas. There will be more to come, and, all being well, the conclusion of the journey round Wales in 2014

Going Great Guns

I left Pembroke Dock via the town trail, and in so doing, I saw rather more of the town than I had originally intended. All was going well until I came to the point where the path first leads off the road and into the fields. Looking over the gate and along the path, I could see that there were goats in the way! Now this was a new one on me. I have come across various animals on the path up to this point, and with them I know what to expect. For instance, cows are usually ok, but as I haven’t forgotten being chased last February, I am wary of them and try to keep my distance if at all possible. The same goes for horses, and sheep are fine as they just run away from you. But goats? I don’t know. I did know that I didn’t like the look of their horns, so I decided to play it safe and take the diversion by road. As a result, it took an hour to get to Pembroke.

After passing through Pembroke, another Welsh town totally dwarfed by its castle, the journey continued through Monkton and then followed the electricity pylons to the nearby power station. This theme continued as it was then round the oil refinery. I couldn’t help but wonder if this was the same oil refinery I saw last June from Dale? From there I could see back to St Anne’s Head, where I was 3 months ago, and which was only 5 miles or so away across the water. I felt as if I was going in the wrong direction.

From heading East, the path round the peninsula sun turned west again, and I found myself walking round Angle Bay to Angle, a pleasant place, and a place which I decided would be a good spot to have a pub lunch. It is a nice village, and there was a village feel to it. There were people talking to each other outside the post office and a sense of community. OK, maybe that’s a bit of an idealistic view of the village, but it was nice to see.

I did have to wonder though, something which I have thought more than once on this coastal walk – am I likely to be passing this way again? I have passed so many lovely places since departing from Chester over 2 years ago, and so many times, I have thought “I must spend more time there one of these days”. Yet time has passed, and nearly all of these return visits have yet to take place. I still hope they will one day, but one thing I do know is that I am grateful for the opportunity to see some of the places and the scenery which the Wales coast path offers.

Fortified by fish and chips, the walk continued round Angle Head, then the coast path kicked in again, there were some pretty steep ups and downs to Freshwater west. One of the areas of the path, I was later to discover, has been nicknamed "The Giant's Toilet"!

The view of Freshwater west was quite something

From there, the last 3 miles or so were on the road to Castlemartin. Whilst walking along, I heard the sound of gunfire. I wasn’t alarmed – I had done my research, and I knew that this was close to an MOD firing range. More on that in tomorrow’s adventure!

I arrived in Castlemartin 5 minutes before the bus back to Pembroke Dock did!

Day 2

I drove to Freshwater East and then took the bus back to Castlemartin. Bus? It was a van. That’s public transport in the countryside for you!

I was unable to follow the coast path all the way, and had to take a diversion inland – the coast path was closed as the MOD were firing. Quite a lot of gunfire could be heard, but at least people are warned about it.

The diversion meant a lot of walking on roads, and the scenery was not exactly stunning - it was mainly fields fenced off with barbed wire and warnings of the dangers of military debris.

This diversion meant that I came to the village of Bosherston where it would have been rude not to stop for a coffee and scone. As I was applying an extra layer of sun screen to my arms (this is very unusual for Wales in September!), a guy seated at a nearby table came over and asked if I had been to St John’s. I puzzled over which St John's he meant for a moment, until he clarified – St John’s College, Nottingham. Well, I have visited the place, but never been enrolled as a student there. He remembered me from that week-long course I did there nearly 20 years ago, though as we got talking, it turns out that we do also know each other from “Easter People”.

The alternative coastal path and the official coastal path finally re-converge in Broad Haven. No, this is not the Broad Haven I was in 15 miles or so after leaving St Davids. There’s another one, and it’s in the same county. Confused? So am I. Oh well, back to the path and back onto the cliff-tops. Fair play, once on the top of the cliffs, the path stayed relatively flat. I was hoping that it would stay this way, but no, there were more ups and downs to come later.

From the tops, there were stunning views of Freshwater East just before arrival there. I stopped and ate a sandwich on the beach, then walked into the sea!

The Cross in the closet

There aren’t many books which I have read more than once, but Tim Kurek’s “The Cross in the closet” is one of the exceptions to the rule.

To summarise, Tim, a straight, evangelical Christian spent a year living in the guise of a gay man to see what reaction he would get from his family, friends and church, and to see how his understanding of the gay community – and his faith – would be affected as a result.

I won’t say too much about what happened to him - you can read that for yourselves – but there were ways in which I could relate to what he discovered.

There were times when I found myself laughing out loud – not the best thing to do if you happen to be travelling in the quiet zone of a train at the time! In the early chapters, when he begins to try and see what sort of a world gay man live in, the stories he recalls from experiences in the gay bars would make a brilliant stand-up comedy routine.

Not that the book is a laugh-a-minute. There are times when I felt angry towards some self-righteous people who get a mention, and the last chapter always has me in tears

One of the things which Tim discovered is that you cannot change your sexual orientation by adopting the lifestyle of someone of the opposite orientation. Living as a gay man did not make him gay. Trying to act straight does not make one straight either.

Throughout this year, Tim was on a pilgrimage. He was walking a year in a gay man’s shoes, and perhaps more significantly, in a gay Christian’s shoes. That is particularly brave, as it can easily attract opposition from both communities. In doing so, he met Christ in some unexpected places and had some incredible conversations as a result.

Read this book if you are gay. Red this book if you are a Christian. May it form part of our pilgrimage, and help us understand where people who hold different viewpoints to us are coming from.

7 Miles, 5 bridges

This was only a short stretch of the Wales coast path, but it was an important one – quite strategic for what is to come later. It was achievable over the course of an afternoon, which meant that I could spend the morning travelling to Milford haven. Indeed, on the train there, it became clear that the family sitting near me were also walking the Pembrokeshire coast – but they were going in a different direction, so I wouldn't be having any walking companions today.

Starting out along the prom at Milford Haven, it quickly became clear that something was happening on the sea-front. It turned out to be the conclusion of a service to unveil a memorial to the victims of an oil refinery blast. I didn't realise this at the time, and people were starting to leave as I walked by, so I can't really claim to have “been there”, but it was still good to know what was going on. More information can be found here http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/uk-wales-23511233

After going through Milford Haven, I came to the first bridge of the day, the one that leads out of town. Unfortunately, for a short while after that, it is main roads with some blind bends. It really is not good terrain for walkers.

This doesn't last too long, though, after going up the hill a little way, there is a right turn for Venn farm, then it is back on the coastal path proper. Just after the farm, I came to a field with the warning “Bull in field” but happily, it wasn't in the field, and I crossed in peace.

The path leads round the back of an oil refinery, and here bridge no 2 crosses some of the refinery's pipes.

Soon, you are on bridge no 3, a metal bridge over the approach road to the refinery. With a metal mesh floor, this bridge is not good if you don't have a head for heights! Then again, the Pembrokeshire coast path as a whole is not good if you don't have a head for heights!

The off-road path didn't last too long, after this bridge it dropped and rejoined a small road at Llanstedwell, where I called into the church for a few minutes' breather. I'm still puzzled by the fact that on a side-table in one of the transepts, there were cups and a jug set out, but no water. OK, so I had drinks of my own, (this was a warm day in July) but this just seemed odd. There's a sermon there about seeming to offer hospitality, but then not doing. After all, if nothing had been set out, I wouldn't have given it a second thought, but to seem to offer hospitality, but then lack the vital ingredient?

From Llanstedwell, the road soon leads into Neyland where it follows river Daugleddau. Just after the marina, a set of park benches in a side road overlook the Cleddau Bridge. Going down this side road, the path goes under smaller Cleddau bridge, then sharply uphill on a mountain-bike route to get onto the bridge.

After crossing the smaller bridge, the next bit is main road but with good pavement, and it leads to the main Cleddau Bridge. That was exhilerating. There were great views, and I also had the wind whistling round me. As mentioned earlier, this was a warm day, now about tea-time, and a bit of a breeze was blowing. I wouldn't like to do with with the wind howling and the rain lashing down.

After the bridge, there was a picnic area where I finished my energy drink. Also, as the view of the bridge was good, it was a photo opportunity. From there, a couple of streets led to the Travelodge where I was to spend the night.

This was only a short walk, but hopefully it will be quite a help for the coming peninsula.

2 years

A few more thoughts about the latest stage of the Wales coast walk.

This is a project I have been working on now for just over 2 years. I reckon that it is going to take at least another year to complete.

Some people do long-distance walks all in one go, others take longer. To be honest, I don't suppose it matters.

Whilst walking to Dale the other day, I had a brief chat on the way with a couple who said that they were walking Offa's Dyke (I know that this was the Pembrokeshire coast path, but don't worry, they hadn't taken a wrong turning!) They were doing Offa's Dyke in stages, because their grandchildren wanted to do it. It had taken 2 years so far as they had been limited to school holidays.

In Dale, the couple who run the B&B where I stayed also commented that they had walked the Pembrokeshire Coast path, and that it had taken them 2 years. Again, they must have been doing it in stages as and when they could fit it in.

What was refreshing about this was that I could tell people I was walking the coast of Wales, and they replied as if it was the most natural thing in the world to be doing. Indeed, a German couple who were staying in the B&B the same night even went so far as to ask if I was walking the coast of the UK! No! This contrasts greatly with the reaction I get back home when people tend to look at me as if I have gone mad. Perhaps I have. If that is the case, then it was good to meet with other mad people for these couple of days.

If this is mad, then I'd hate to be normal!

Dale, Pembrokeshire

It's been over 2 months since I last walked any of the Wales coast path. This is partly because I have taken a diversion to walk the coast of the Isle of Man and partly because of work and other commitments. Anyway, there is a window of opportunity here, so on we go again.

It was sunny when I left Broad Haven last April, and sunny again when I returned. The evening before this section of the walk started, it was lovely to have a walk up and down the beach after having fish and chips, an evening of relaxation before the serious walking starts again tomorrow.

The next day began by walking along the road to Little Haven There isn't much to say about the road, but the village itself is a pleasant enough little place. The path then leaves the road and follows a few headlands round to Mill Haven, and just a little beyond that, at St Brides, I realised that I was making good progress.

I was told that the walk to Dale, today's destination, is not exactly strenuous as far as hills are concerned. This is true. There are a few ups and downs to contend with, but they are nothing compared to the Cardigan to Fishguard stretch at the beginning of the Pembrokeshire coast.

Yet a few more headlands, and the first of today's beaches, Musselwick Sands, is reached. Whilst a day on the beach would be very nice, and whilst there is absolutely no pressure of time, it's not a beach holiday, though I will visit a beach or two along the way I'm sure.

The walk had been reasonably quiet up to this stage, though not deserted. The summer had brought some people out – I certainly met more people in June than I did last February! Indeed, there was a whole crowd of people at Martins Haven. They were waiting for boat to Skomer and Skokholm. Yes, I had to read that twice as well. The name of an island just off the coast here does sound and look very similar to the name of the Swedish capital!

I can't say that the Welsh language is similar to Swedish, but there are a few similarities here and there. Not only in some place names, but also, last year in Stockholm (and this time I do mean the Swedish capital!), I noticed that the Swedish for “Market” was “Marknad”, only a letter different from the Welsh “Marchnad” (ch is one letter in Welsh!)

I decided not to go round the deer park, it's not part of the official coast path, it only brings you back to where you started and it didn't seem to contain any deer, so I tried to follow the official coast path – I say tried to, but the route was blocked by cows lying down, so I took a diversion through the car-park. The good thing about that, though, was that I passed the ticket shop for the boat trips – and I was able to get a coffee there!

The next bit really was a delight. From the cliff-tops the views down onto sandy beaches such as Albion Sands are quite beautiful. At Marloes Sands I decided that it was time for lunch. I also couldn't resist the opportunity to have a paddle!

If that had been a delight, the next 5 miles or so were sheer torture. The problem began at Westdale Bay, from where I could see Dale, about a mile or so away across country, but to get there via the coast path meant that there were still 5 miles to go.

The highlight of these 5 miles should have been St Ann's Head. I suppose it was the highlight in a way, but as I was getting my phone out to take a photo of the lighthouse, the battery ran out. I really would have liked it to have been working a mile or so further on when I came to the bay where Harri Tudur landed in the 15^th century. Harri Tudur? He's better known to the English-speaking world as Henry Tudor, who, after landing here and raising an army, was victorious at the battle of Bosworth in 1485 and became King Henry VII.

The approach to Dale was on road. I'm not quite sure why. I was following the path, but somehow lost it when it came to a field. Trying to correct myself, I came to the road, checked the map and realised that I was on the approach to Dale, so decided that this would do. It was mainly downhill as well, which helped!

I like Dale. It's a pleasant little place, and the B&B was lovely. In the village pub, the fish menu boasted that all the fish had been caught in the bay, so I had a look out across the blue waters of the bay – and started straight at the oil refinery. Oh well, I suppose fish and oil do tend to go together! I opted for the skate, so you could say I was living on a wing and a prayer!

The next day was purely functional and, unfortunately, entirely on roads. Part of it had to be. At high tide, the official path is flooded and the inland diversion has to be taken. When I set out, it was an hour before high tide. But also, it was becoming apparent that work was mounting up back at home. Indeed, before getting back home later that day, it became clear that I would be having 3 funerals to deal with on my return. One of them I knew about, but the other 2 had come my way whilst I was down here. So when the diversion came to an end and I reached the official path again, I spotted a sign saying that it was only 1½ miles to Milford Haven. I decided to take that path and get to the station. Apart from anything else, the rucksack I was using was starting to come apart, and when I reached Milford Haven, it started to rain. It was not the sort of day that I like to spend when walking, but it became a case of get to Milford Haven, then get home as soon as possible.

The journey will continue, hopefully at a more leisurely pace....

Raad ny Foillan - the conclusion

Day 5 – Onchen to Castletown

There's one thing to do today before I take a step anywhere – get my name down for the ballot for next year's London Marathon!

After that, the day began with a lift back to tram stop / car park near Onchan. The path followed the road for a short while before diverting round the back of Millionaire's Row, some of the grandest housess on the island. They say money talks – it certainly does. There were several signs reminding walkers that this was private property, it was nothing like as friendly as the nature reserve last Saturday. That was private property, but the feeling of welcome could not have been more different.

Back on the road for the approach to Douglas, the island's capital.

 I still can't decide of it reminded me more of Aberystwyth or Llandudno. Suffice to say that if you like either of these Welsh resorts, you will like Douglas. It really is a lovely place. The prom lasts for 2 miles. This is not the height of the summer season, so it was not exactly at its busiest, but it was still a bustling metropolis in comparison to some stages of the walk!

At the end of the prom, the Steam Packet terminal is passed all too soon, then there's a flight of steps and before you know it. Raad ny Foillan continues along Marine Drive. At this point, the weather didn't know what to do. There was a breeze, so my coat went on for warmth, then it started to rain, so the waterproof trousers went on, then it was fine so off they came and so on. Also, the crowds (!) had again disappeared by this point. This is about as far as people tend to get if they are visiting Douglas and decide to have “a bit of a walk”

The road drops down to car park at Port Soderic, then the path through the glen really is a very pleasant bit of coast. Then, there's more road, which is not so pleasant, before heading back to the coast and the cliff paths.

Who said poetry was dead? :-)

At one point, the path goes through a field of cows. I really was not happy, and neither were they, but happily, they made their displeasure known by walking away from me rather than towards me! Thankfully, there were no major problems, then it was out of the field to the road at back of Ronaldsway airport. This was an odd feeling – between the airport and the sea. A metal road marked the path, and drops down onto the beach at one side and the airport fence on the other made sure you stuck to the path.

At that point, I thought that I had reached Castletown. I hadn't, I was only in Derby Haven, which is a pleasant enough place, but there were still 2 miles to go. These 2 miles took me past King William College before finally arriving in Castletown and meeting up with John at the memorial to John Wesley – where else!

In the evening – a meal with the friend I met up with yesterday afternoon.

Day 6 – Castletown to Port St Mary

In comparison with what has gone before, today was a stroll. The total distance was only about 7 miles, so it was a relaxed start. Most of today's walk was on road, though there was one diversion away from the road shortly after leaving Castletown and going past another Millionaire's Row. It was then back onto the main road which I have come to be so familiar with over recent days, being driven to one or other corner of the island, but I branched off the road just as Port St Mary's lower promenade comes into view. If that sounds short and sweet, it was, it only took a couple of hours and was not the most challenging day of the walk. Indeed, this was day 6, but really, I could have done this in 5 days had I really been pushing myself. There was another challenge in mind, though – before setting off, I entered next year's Brighton Marathon!

John met me on the prom and took some photos of me as I was reaching journey's end. At the end of prom, well, that's where the whole thing began last Tuesday. Raad ny Foillan - the way of the gull - had also become the way of the Robin!

I really don't know how I felt after completing it. It was strange. I was certainly pleased that I had done it, and it was a great sense of achievement, but in a much quieter way than wanting to punch the air and shout “Yes” as I usually do when I finish a Marathon. It was an odd feeling – good, but odd. When I had a photo taken to celebrate the accomplishment, I'm told I looked philosophical.

Anyway, there was some celebrating to do now before the boat home tomorrow. First of all, an organ crawl around some of the island's churches and chapels before seeing “The Sound of Music” at the Gaiety Theatre, Douglas, that evening. Maria von Trapp looked more like Cilla Black, but we'll let that pass.

What an amazing week. I have met some great people – some planned, some totally unexpectedly. Many, many thanks to John for being mine host, driver and all-round good guy, and his son Matthew for putting up with me. One thing I do know – it must not be another 43 years before I return to the island.

Ramsey to Onchan, then a day of rest!

Day 4 – Ramsey to Onchan

At last – a clear day without rain! There was still a bit of a breeze, but not as bad as yesterday!

The journey out of Ramsey was on the road. To an extent this is inevitable, but it was perhaps for longer than intended. If approaching Port e Vullen from the beach, check tide times first. As the tide was coming in, I decided to err on the side of caution. Looking at it from the other end, it appears I would actually have been ok after all.

Once on the path properly and away from the road, the views on the approach to Maughold were stunning – there was even a glimpse of Cumbria in the distance.

After following a few more contours around the cliffs after leaving Maughold, a lot of the next stretch is on road, criss-crossing the Manx electric railway. Ballajora station provided a brief chance to check the map and get some water on board. This bit was uphill, and it was starting to get hot! It was also interesting to see just how far inland this bit of the coast path was!

What goes up must come down, and after Cornaa, a very pleasant descent through the glen led to Port Cornaa – before going back up the equally pleasant other side!

More road to walk on, and more railway to walk alongside. Also, more walkers out today than I have previously seen. This is almost certainly because it is Saturday, but also, the Parish Walk is coming up next month, an 85-mile walk over 24 hours, and many people were training for that. Indeed, it's been commented that I move at a fair lick when I get going. Perhaps. Some of these race walkers, though, could, and did, leave me standing!

After Dhoon, I was passed by some walkers whilst having a sandwich. Once I got going again, I followed them for the next mile or so, but they were obviously in training and just disappeared further and further into the distance.

More minor roads, passing close to King Orry's Grave eventually give way to a drop through Old Laxey into Laxey, but only time for the briefest relaxey! No, I wasn't pushing myself unnecessarily - had that been the case I would have reached Peel, not Niarbyl on Day 1!

To be serious, I did have a little time to admire this seaside town. Even stopped at a cafe for a bottle of irn-bru to go, but, as has been mentioned earlier in this blog, this is a walking holiday, not a tea-shop holiday, so on we go.

If it had felt like all road up to now, the next section really was road – the A2 until Baldrine is almost reached. On the road, I met a cyclist going the other way, he asked how far it was to Laxey and was very relieved when I said it was 2 miles maximum! I think the heat was beginning to get to a couple of people by now!

After leaving the road, the path doesn't go where you expect it to when you reach Ballannette. It seems as if you turn left before a gate that seems to lead on to private property, but actually, what looks to be private isn't – at least, not right here, so it's forward onto this land before a right turn.

Actually, it is private property, but very welcoming to walkers and cyclists. The way is clearly marked, there are a couple of outside taps with notices inviting you to help yourself to drinking water. Well, of course I filled one of my bottles. There was even a loo a little further on with charity collecting tins on the windowsill! The helpful, welcoming, friendly nature of whoever designed this made this part of the walk a joy. If you are the owner of this estate, or if you are responsible for the facilities which help put a spring in a tired walker's step, thank-you.

I chose to make a detour after that, to Old Lonan's Kirk. Well worth a visit it is too. Apparently, in the day the local population were complaining that the church was too remote for them. It's partly in ruins these days, but not totally, and even the parts which are in ruins are well-preserved. For instance, I shouldn't have been surprised to see the font when I went through the door, but a roof might be useful unless you want the risk of everyone being baptised!

A seat in the churchyard proved a useful place to locate a car park on the map, a mile or so further on, and I texted John to make that today's meeting place. What happened next was positively barking!

The two women on the path in front of me must have been walking at least a dozen dogs between them. There wasn't a lead to be seen. All it took was one bark, and before I knew what was happening, there were a dozen dogs running towards me, and two women yelling at them as if that was going to make any difference. Now fair play, these weren't dangerous dogs by any means, just little yappers, so I stopped, patted as many as I could reach and said “Hey, what's the fuss?” and was very soon allowed to continue with no further ado. But before I had reached the end of the road, someone else must have passed them, for I heard the barking and the yells of the women again and wondered what might happen should anything more serious than a passing walker distract the dogs' attention.

I reached the car-park no worse for my ordeal by dog (!) and sat in the shelter by the stop for the electric train opposite. Well, wouldn't it be the case that the train arrived at the same time as John did. So I was furiously waving to John trying to get his attention whilst waving to the driver of the train to say that I didn't require the train service, thank-you. Thankfully, it all worked out ok, and another day's walking was successfully completed.

Sunday – a day off walking. I preached at Port Erin Methodist Church in the morning, played the organ at St Mary's Parish Church, Port St Mary, in the afternoon, and later had an unexpected but very pleasant meeting with an old friend before preaching at Ballagarey Methodist Church in the evening. It was good to meet some of the Manx Methodists and see what life in the Methodist church is like in this corner of the Connexion.

Niarbyl - Peel - Point of Ayre - Ramsey

Day 2 – Niarbyl to Jurby

First of all, a correction to part 1. The cafe I mentioned is the Sound cafe, not the Sands cafe. It overlooks the Sound leading to the Calf of Man. My mistake.

Back to Niarbyl. Back to the rain. In fact, it was pouring down. The forecast was that this would clear, but it was going to take some clearing! First stop was the beach to see the white line on the rock where the earth's American plate meets the European plate.

There were more hills to begin with, but they were nothing like as bad as yesterday's. After following the road for a mile or so, the path veered off the road and down into Glen Maye. It was very pleasant with nice scenery, but when you reach the bottom, the bridge that looks like being the obvious place to cross isn't the place to cross! The crossing is a little way upstream, but the pleasant glen makes the walk through it fully worthwhile. After the glen, one final hill led to Peel. The views of Peel from the top were quite something, and the views of Peel Castle, like the view of Port Erin yesterday, would have been all the better had it not been raining!

I descended on the castle side of the hill, and didn't stop, as, in the rain, Peel looked wet and miserable (I visited it later when the sun was out and it looked much nicer), so I decided to press on.

Most of the route from Peel to Kirk Michael was on a disused railway track. It was muddy. By now, the rain had stopped, but I decided to keep the waterproof trousers on as they were making a good mudguard! In fact, this was quite a squelch all told!

The track suddenly stops, and a path leads to the road. After a brief visit to the beach, the village of Kirk Michael is reached. Now, prepare for a blast from the past. It was early closing! Remember that? That's a phrase I haven't heard for about 30 years! Fortunately, a garage was open, so I did get to top up my supplies of chocolate!

There had been a brief visit to the beach earlier. The next 22 miles were nearly all beach, covered over the rest of day 2 and going into day 3. More of that later. For now, what I noticed most was that the map and reality don't always bear a good resemblance to each other. I'm not saying that the map is inaccurate, but it does look to be a nice, long, smooth curve. The reality is that there are quite a few rocky headlands along the way. At least the weather was now fine, the waterproofs were off and I could enjoy an afternoon on the beach, even if it did mean 2 hours of walking rather than sunbathing!

On the headland, Jurby church could be seen. It sounds interesting, but my destination was just a little way beyond that, Sartfield. This was the pre-arranged meeting place with John, and happily, we arrived there at the same time. Something else that was pre-arranged was the need for a change of clothes in the car, as John had arranged for me to visit Peel Cathedral and have a go on the organ before evening prayer. Thanks to all who worked behind-the-scenes for that to happen :-)

Day 3 – Jurby to Ramsey

This was beach all the way, and also landmarks all the way. Although they didn't come thick and fast, they were always there in the distance. Indeed, after the initial excitement of seeing them had died down, you did wonder if they were ever going to get any closer!

An hours walking along the beach is an hours walking along the beach. It did, though, lead me to the Lhen Trench. Now the guidebook says that you need to jump it. It may be the case that the author of the guidebook is an experienced, award-winning long-jumper. If that is the case, good on her! There was no way I was prepared to take a running jump at that. So, being thankful that I had shorts on, I took my shoes and socks off and waded through. That woke me up! Some friendly dogs came to say hello as I was putting my shoes back on, and I did have a brief chat with their owner as well.

I said that this stretch is predominantly beach – the next bit is actually a combination of heathland and a concrete road just above the beach. It certainly makes the walk easier than if it was on soft sand all the way.

At this point I had my first glimpse of the Point of Ayre lighthouse – the northernmost point of the island. I had a glimpse of it for the next hour. With the terrain being flat, and with only grass and sand between me and it, conditions presented the optical illusion of landmarks appearing to be closer than they actually were.

On the final approach to the lighthouse, the weather worsened. I had seen a black cloud approaching for some time, and when the wind got up, I knew that it was here. On with the waterproofs! It was all over in 5 minutes – I'd also seen the blue sky behind the cloud approaching, but for those 5 minutes, it was a bracing, wet and windy time. Happily, the wind was at the back of me, so I wasn't battling against it, and whilst my back and left side were dripping wet, the front right side of my waterproof coat was bone dry!

The storm passed and the lighthouse was here. It's south all the way now! Not bad going to say that it was only 2 days ago I was at the Sound Cafe.

The sun was out all afternoon, but it was deceptive – there was also a cold wind blowing. It was also high tide, but I did have enough beach between the sea and the cliffs for me to not be in danger. Also, the tide was going out, so had the worst happened, all I would have needed to do is wait a while. Happily, it didn't come to that. After a brief stop for a sandwich and to take a phone call from Radio Wales (!) I could see Ramsey in the distance. Like the lighthouse this morning, it always seemed to be in the distance and never seemed to get any closer. It took a long time to get there, but, of course, I made it in the end.

Rendezvous with John today was in Gophers cafe. Mango and white chocolate scone while I wait? I don't mind if I do!

Raad ny Foillan - part 1

Raad Ny Foillan

Day 0 – Travel to and arrival on the Isle of Man

“Aberystwyth! Or Llandudno” My first thoughts on my first glimpse of Douglas Promenade from the boat were that it could be either of these Welsh resorts. Indeed, having now seen rather more of Douglas, I still think it's a cross between the two. Either way, it certainly made me feel at home, as did other parts of the island, but more of that in due course.

I was met off the boat by John, with whom I have been in contact for some time about walking the Isle of Man coastal path. After what must be about a year of planning, it seems as if the day is finally here. From the ferry, he drove me home where I met his son, and had a chance to chat over a cuppa, and then a meal.

Afterwards, the Raad ny Foillan started – but only very gently, a walk around Port St Mary from the end of the promenade to the harbour. Nothing too strenuous there! En route, I did see a Manx cat – usually taken as being a sign of luck, so I was rather pleased with that.

More chatting fairly late into the night (this was to become something of a pattern!) was followed by bed, ready for starting the walk properly the next day

Day 1 – Port St Mary to Niarbyl

Leaving Port St Mary via the harbour, along the sea-front and up into the hills. After the initial ascent, there was a shelter. It wasn't raining, I didn't need shelter, but I decided to use it to do a map check, have a sip of water and generally get my bearings. What I haven't admitted to anyone before now is that at this point, I thought that disaster had struck before I had really gone anywhere. There was one thing I had forgotten – the map! To be honest, I don't really know how I completed day 1 without getting ridiculously lost. Fortunately, I also had a guide book, and by paying even more careful to detail than usual to that, I was able to work out where I was and what was coming. Not to be recommended, especially in the light of what the afternoon had in store! That said, a useful guide is always “Keep the sea on your left”, and as the path was pretty clearly at t his stage, I decided to press on and see where I got. Perhaps not recommended, but what other option was there? Remember, quitting is not an option!

It was here where I realised what people had said about the path being right next to the cliff and a vertical drop. I'm not afraid of heights, but I do respect them. There were some places on the walk where path and cliff-top were just a bit too close for comfort.

Following the path a bit more, I reached the Sands cafe at the South-western corner of the island. Hat's a lovely place – I didn't have time for a cuppa – it would be lovely if I could make use of every cafe I pass, but whilst there will be an occasional cuppa here and there, this is a walking holiday, not a cafe crawl, so, one again, on we go!

Next stop was Port Erin, and this was a cafe stop for coffee and pastry. I knew I would need the energy – there are some steep hills to come this afternoon!

When I left the cafe, it was raining, and I couldn't see the top of the first hill, Bradda. To be fair, the worst of the weather did clear, but it was still a bit wet and misty up the tops. The first ascent took me to the Milner Tower, which I took to be the top of Bradda Hill. I was wrong. There was more to come. Basically, that set the pattern for the afternoon – when I thought I'd got to the top, there was a bit more to come. I'm sure that the views from the top are spectacular on a clear day. Port Erin in the mist from the Milner Tower was as good as it got for me!

The descent from Bradda Hill was rather steep. Unfortunately, the height lost has to be regained on the other side of a minor road at Fleshwick Bay for the ascent of Lhiattee ny Beinee. This is tough. It is steep, and I like to think that I'm reasonably fit, but when I had to stop for breath every few steps, I decided that it was time for a rest, a sandwich break and see if I could get some energy to get to the top. Well, yes, it did the trick, but once again, the hill had a trick of its own in store. The cairn I had set my eyes on, did not mark the top, and when I thought, “Oh no, that's higher” it was rather discouraging! However, I got there eventually.

What goes up must come down, and the descent from here seemed to be vertical at times. This was not nice – but when I met a couple of people trying to go up the path, perhaps I did have the easy option after all.

Like the descent from Bradda Hill, this descent finishes at a road, and, once again, the height that's lost has to be regained. It's not a drop quite down to sea level, and perhaps the next bit isn't quite as steep as the ascent to Lhiatee ny Beinee, but all the same, Cronk ny Arrey Laa stands before you, beckoning you on, perhaps in a bit of a menacing way – or was that just the mist which hadn't totally lifted?

Fair play, this ascent wasn't the worst of the day, but it is the highest. Indeed, it's the highest point of the entire Raad ny Foillan. Sitting by the cairn at the top was very comforting – it meant that whatever happened on the rest of the walk, no amount of hill-walking would take me to even half this height over the coming days.

Now this is where I'm not quite sure what happened. I think I got a bit lost. Not horrendously, but I just had to trust instinct more than anything else. I knew not to take the path that descended to the nearest road, so I didn't. I must have been right to that point. It was as the path descended and came to a minor road that I couldn't quite work out where the path went next. The guidebook was saying that I had to be broadly in the right direction – certainly the rather boggy, squelchy bracken-covered terrain which the guide book was talking about looked and felt to be a fair reflection of where I was, but if there was a path marking, I couldn't make it out, or missed it or something. The long and short of it is that I did make it to Niarbyl, but perhaps by not quite the recommended route. Anyway, that was quite enough for one day. I had made good progress, covered about 20 miles and done the worst of the hills. That's where I texted John and asked to be picked up from the nearest cafe! Well, it would be rude not to have 2 coffees and a scone after all that wouldn't it?