June 30
Bradford: The Cathedral Church of St. Peter

After Saltaire, I dropped my traveling companion back at the hotel (the wife of one of Dave’s colleagues: Helen) and decided to go and see some stained glass. I was going through withdrawal after all of Italy’s cathedrals and basilicas.

The main church was about 3 blocks from our hotel and is called The Cathedral Church of St. Peter. It’s Anglican, and has a simplicity about it that allowed me to engage in a way I didn’t in the large cathedrals in Italy, although they are probably more showy.

I walked through the church close (church grounds) past this window. Although I love stained glass windows, sometimes the outsides, with the structure of the window more evident are just as intriguing.

The stained glass in this church seemed less of a gloriously framed decoration and more of a chance to look on the art and think. What a worshipper might think about would depend on the window they were studying, I guess. I have always loved this verse that begins: “Let us now praise famous men.”

They had several panels in this small chapel and I liked how the light fell on this chair.

The faces and the detail in the clothing was pronounced, like a picture drawn in inks. I have thought about this and wondered if it was because the glass was so close to me–I could have touched it. Most other glasses are so far away.

Mary and Martha with Jesus–a parable I’ve wrestled with more than once. Busy by inclination in my younger years, I would retort that someone had to get the meal ready. But maybe this parable could reference one woman, but at different ages of her life: the busy years–with Christ reminding that woman to take time to study and drink of the Living Water–and the later years–when contemplation takes more of a center stage as the capacity for busy-ness wanes.

William Morris has three windows in this cathedral. Contasted with the other stained glass, his are “simpler,” more linear.

Of course, all this thinking about gospel themes, led by the windows, was enhanced by the choir and organ practicing for Evensong later that afternoon.

I tried and tried to get this window captured, but failed every time. It’s a triptych with a choir of angels holding a banner that has similar words to one of my favorite hymns:

Every house should have one.

June 30 (and into July 1st)
Bradford England was once the center of the wool trade for England, even rivaling London for importance. I have also learned that all England’s larger cities say this at least once in their tourist information. But because of its location to water, people, and most importantly, the sheep, I do think Bradford had an edge on this category, at least for a while.

But first, getting the car. Dave is not standing on the wrong side of the car–it’s the English driving thing–steering wheel on the right side of the car.

From here we went down to the parking garage’s next level and drove around there, practiced pulling into a space, then out of a space, then down to the next level where there were more cars, etc until we (he) felt brave enough to try a real road. Kind of like Driver’s Training all over again.

The motorways are really nice. We had no problems getting to our destination until we got off of them, then Good Luck. Street signs seem to be absent nearly everywhere. If you do see one, it’s on the street that intersects yours. You’re supposed to know what street you’re on–difficult.

Bradford’s buildings are solid-looking brick buildings, built in the last century. This is City Hall.

Love the names of the streets here.

Boys in Bradford.
This place is one of those dying cities, the prime of the wool trade long past and no new infusion of cash or a viable industry.

The old Wool Center building–rather gothic-y at the top. Now it’s a bank.

Dave’s smiling because at long last–we have clean clothes!
We ran into a tour guide operator in Bergamo Italy and I asked him for tips on travel. “Febreeze,” he said. I laughed, but after 8 days of traveling, if we hadn’t found a laundromat, I would have bought some to freshen up our clothing.

June 29
Travel Day from Milan to Manchester, via Brussels airport

When we came out of the subway to the heat and noise and bright afternoon sun, the Duomo was sparkling white. This shot is taken late in the afternoon, when the cathedral assumes the rose colors of the descending sun.

The Duomo inside is rather dark, with deep gray stone (although if it had light, it might look differently). We focused on the light: Dave’s shot of the stained glass is clear and vivid.

I liked the two brilliant yellow spots, as well as the “pomegranate” Christ in the lower center.

As per our niece Alice’s advice, we took to the roof–in an ascenseur (or elevator). This is atop the nave, looking from one end to the other.

A very Gothic place, this roof. No wonder it took them hundreds of year to complete this thing.

Back down on the ground, and after dinner, we looked more closely at the closed doors. Dave captured the nativity.

I was intrigued by where the bronze had been shined up by pilgrims’–and tourists’–hands.

June 28, 2008
Milan is Big City, Big Noise (courtesy of the radio station broadcasting from portable tents in the Duomo main square), Big Heat & Humidity, Big Cathedral (4th largest in the world), Big Shopping.

This is the entrance to the shopping arcade, famous for its famous brandware, and famous because it was the first covered shopping mall in the world–the Vittorio Emanuelle II.