Unexpected pleasure

On Saturday we took our friends Phil and Julia along to see Beverley Minster, the glorious church at the centre of our local town. Since moving up here in September we hadn't ventured in. Perhaps there was some subconscious resentment: we spent the night before Rachael's job interview within earshot of the bells, which chimed every 15 minutes throughout the night. Rachael went to her job interview made alert by several cans of Red Bull: we think the panel may have been too frightened not to appoint her.

Anyhow, we learnt that dropping into the Cathedral ought to have been the first thing we did. It's quite glorious; such an unexpected treat in a small town. If course, Beverley wasn't always such a quiet little place. In the 13th century when the Cathedral was built, Beverley was the 11th largest town in England, a centre of the international wool trade.

Julia engaged in conversation with a verger, who blossomed with enthusiasm, and armed with his torch began pointing out the most wonderful architectural detail. Our guide has a particular interest in the signatures that stone masons left in the walls, and is currently cataloguing them - a life's work. He knows nothing personally of each mason, but from their marks, he can identify each individual, and learn how the church was built and when. That, then, tells us much about the economic conditions of the time.

As does its graffiti. Etched into the stone are the marks of hundreds of years of informative vandalism, from 13th century monks to Civil War soldiers, to the lout they had to throw out last week. All tell a story.

The detailed masonry that has survived is quite extraordinary. Beverley Minster's beauty was twice protected: firstly from Roundhead iconoclasts, reputedly because Cromwell's General Fairfax had some personal connection and ordered that it be not touched, and then, because of its rural location, the stonework has not felt the ravages of more modern eroding pollution.

What a gem to have just down the road from where I now sit.