Centenary Pilgrimage: A reconstruction based on my notes from the first three days of my self-directed tour of England and Wales, August 19-September 1,1997
Day One: London to Fakenham
My second pilgrim journey began around 10AM on Tuesday, August 19. 1997. The night before was spent feverishly packing my belongings for storage and/or posting back home. I was up until 3AM stuffing boxes, pulling them down to reception, and from there to the vault. With Kenny's help (I freely admit he did the bulk of the work, once I got everything downstairs) I managed to consolidate my various boxes of assorted size into just 2 large ones. I sacked out in the student lounge, waking up around 10. I piddled around with last minute packing and unpacking, took my winter coat to the Post Office to be mailed overseas, surface rate, and after hanging around for a long time, unwilling to take that first step from the Centre, that place I had known as home for 8 months, and the people I had come to call friends, I finally made for the Underground just after 2; this time I made it to the correct stations the first time around. It got so at one point that the receptionist remarked that it looked like I didn't want to go, and truth be told, she was almost right. Arriving at the station I made for the ticket counters because I had to validate my Young Persons Britrail pass. I made the train at King's
Cross with just three minutes to spare, the lines at the ticket counter were slow: normal time being stretched by the humidity. Moreover, what I had thought to be a simple procedure took
longer than I expected; evidentially the ticket clerk didn't know how to validate the pass and had to call a supervisor for help.
As before, on my way to Norwich, I made a traveling companion, even if only briefly. Moving through the cars, shuffling my bags in front of me, I finally found an empty set of seats (about the third car from where I got on), and was presently joined by Matt, a graphics-design student on holiday from the University in Sumerset. He was on his way to Ipswich to visit a friend, and gave me a bit of helpful, and colorful history of the town, in case I visit it. We got along famously, as the saying goes, swapping backgrounds and other small talk to pass the time away.
My journey nearly ended almost before it began, however, thanks to the shaky train ride from London to Norwich. About halfway to Ipswich, the train began sputtering. It died a couple
of times, and we barely managed to pull into Stowmarket. There we learned that the engine had overheated -it was hot outside- and that a replacement was being called up, requiring a 15
minute wait. Fortunately, however, the engine cooled down and recovered enough to make it to Norwich on its own power. However, the wait did give me time to get caught up in my travel
journal, so it wasn't a complete waste of time. While we were waiting for the replacement engine I popped outside for some cooler air, and visited the gift shop to pick up a postcard to send home. I found a spot relatively free from smoke (all the smokers had stepped outside for a smoke it seemed) and there I stayed until the conductor announced that the engine had cooled sufficiently for us to have another go at it.
Once in Norwich again, I decided to walk, rather than pay for a taxi ride. I covered a lot of ground and only got turned around once or twice. After walking around in a circle, I finally built
the courage to flag down a passerby and ask for directions. Following the directions, I eventually ended up at the bus station, this time at the bottom of the station, instead of the top
when the taxi dropped me off the first time. Still, I was able to see more of Norwich than last time, even if I still didn't get to see Norwich Cathedral and Lady Julian's Cell -there just wasn't
enough time. Arriving around 4:45 I found myself in line for the ticket booth, but eventually learned that I didn't need to be there, albeit after the fact. Once the ticketlines opened, the line
flowed rather quickly, and I got to a service clerk in 5 minutes. Getting the information I needed, and having another half hour, I bundled my bags along with me and picked up a sandwich and drink at the local Booths . Scurrying back to the station, I witnessed a conversation between a grandmother out shopping for the day, and a German (or French?) girl who was trying
to get directions to somewhere along the route. Afterwards the grandmother and I exchanged pleasantries until the coach arrived. The journey to Fakenham proved uneventful, this time, I was able to observe more of the scenery, since I did not have a particular time-table. At around 6:25, the coach dropped me off in the centre of Fakenham -the same place I got money from my last visit- stopped to get my bearings, and prepared to move on.
Evening
The end of my first day found me in the spare bedroom of a hospitable elderly Catholic couple
here in Falenham, and in a bed with sheets for the first time since my last
Walsingham pilgrimage. It is a blessed relief and right now I feel warm and safe and secure. God
is watching over His well intentioned, but careless son, I think. I cannot wait to return to
Walsingham, to see the Shrine again and to finally visit the Catholic Shrine, to take pictures, and
to feel her presence of waiting, the presence of waiting and of silence -even with all the noise of
the Pilgrimage- and above all the Presence of the Holy Spirit.
Now that I was back in Fakenham, though, I saw little choice but to find a hostel for the evening if I could, not relishing the thought of having to walk to Walsingham again, not having
made any prior arrangements this time. This journey, unlike my last time, would be completely off the cuff. Once my initial confusion from being in a strange place alone had passed, I started walking away from the City Centre towards an area where I hoped I could find a hostel, having absolutely no experience in looking for them. After getting turned around a couple of times, by sheerest luck I was overtaken by a smartly dressed man briskly walking the same direction I was headed. Upon seeing my bags, he stopped to ask if I was a Walsingham Walker. Not having the faintest clue (I had no as yet read the pamphlet "The Walsingham Way", which would have explained much to me), I replied that I had just arrived by coach from Norwich, but that I was headed to Walsingham. I asked him if he knew of any Bed and Breakfasts or hostels in the area. He mentioned one which I doubt I could have found, but as he was in a hurry to get to
Benediction, I asked to join him, and we walked together to St. Anthony's Parish, Roman Catholic as it turned out (I should have realized it was a Catholic church he was going to from the
beginning, I was going to the Catholic Centenary Celebration afterall.)
We arrived at St. Anthony's in plenty of time, as yet there were no cars there; and we were only the second group to arrive. Moreover, we were waiting for the coach carrying the Walsingham Walkers and the Statue of Our Lady to arrive before we began. So there was plenty of time to get acquainted. I realized during the wait for the walkers, that St. Anthony's (of Padua) was a RC church, yet I was accepted as a fellow pilgrim. The congregation was very hospitable and genteel, It was here that I learned about the Shrine at Fernyhalgh -the Ladyewell- founded in the 14th century by a merchant in gratitude and response for his rescue from a storm in the Irish Sea. Here also, my predicament was spoken of by the kindly gentleman who had brought me to church, and various suggestions were made, the end result was to wait and see what others said after the service: it was even suggested that I might be able to walk to Walsingham with the walkers.
The walkers finally arrived, the statue being carried by one of the members, the panolopy it was normally carried on having been disassembled for the day. We went in for Benediction, which was a plain, simple, no frills service with congregation singing, yet still one full of reverence, and deep awe at the Presence of the Risen Lord amidst us. It was similiar to the service of Evensong and Solemn Benediction, minus the Evensong, at All Saints, Maragret Street in London. After
the service, I was introduced to more people, and my plight bandied about some more: I was finally taken in by a friendly, hospitable Catholic couple, Mr.and Mrs.J Edwards -who incidentally ran a Catholic audio tape apostolate- which was more than I had expected. Needless to say I was extremely grateful! Not only did they take me in for the night, though, but they fed me a light supper and breakfast the next morning, and Mr. Edwards gave me two books outright from his library, and loaned me a third. I was very touched by their generosity, and had no qualms in telling them. But that was not the end of their generosity: Mr.Edwards gave me a tape on Walsingham part of a series entitled "Marian Shrines of England" which they distributed through the apsotolate. We also had a very informative talk about Michael Davies, a traditionalist Catholic
writer whose writings on the changes in the Roman Mass I have read. Tomorrow (Day Two) will describe the walk to Walsingham and the Ceteneary Mass.
You may be wondering what all this travelogue has to do with a spiritual pilgrimage to Walsingham. It has lots, because I did not go through all this just to get to Walsingham: True, I
was here for the Roman Catholic Centenary Pilgrimage, yet Walsingham was just the beginning of a two week tour of England. There is a certain amount of symmetry involved in the fact that I began my tour with a Shrine, and I ended it with a Shrine
Description -- Part I --
Part II --
Part III --
Day Two --
Day Three 
Site Features -- 
-- Walsingham 
-- Shrine Prayers
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