Evesham Abbey

There’s nothing like walking through ruins on a cold winter’s day

Evesham Abbey in its prime

A present day remnant

Abbey wall and its grounds, the surviving parish churches of St Lawrence, and Holy Saints.

A fragment: the Abbey Bell Tower

The 110 ft Bell Tower, built between 1524 and 1532 was the work of Clement Lichfield, the last Abbot of Evesham. The gateway through its base led from the Parish churchyard  to the monks’ graveyard.

Monks were buried in a shroud, placed on a wooden board and placed in a grave with a simple wooden marker. Abbots and rich benefactors were buried in the Abbey along with their regalia.

 The clock at the top of the tower once had an elaborate panorama showing the phases of the moon. Above it were two wooden figures designed to strike a bell every 15 minutes.

Some buildings seem to linger in between worlds as if here on temporary loan. It was a bit like that walking through the remains of one of the great abbeys of medieval England. 

Maybe Eof the swineherd experienced a similar feeling towards the end of the C7^th  when he experienced a vision of the Virgin Mary. There he was, peacefully minding his own business and pigs when Mary appeared in front of him. 

Regaining his composure, Eof  rushed off to Ecgwin. bishop of Worcester. When Ecgwin accompanied Eof to the forested bend in the river, he too saw the apparition of the Virgin Mary and persuaded the king of Mercia, Ethelred, to found a monastery in that exact spot.

 And thus Evesham Abbey was founded, named after a Saxon swineherd and the Saxon word ‘hamm’ meaning land in the bend of a river. Ecgwin for his troubles became a saint.

 All Saints Church side view

Within the grounds of the Abbey, St Lawrence, and All Saints have served as parish churches for the town of Evesham since the C12^th.  They were built for ordinary folk as Evesham grew into an important market town. The Abbey Church was reserved primarily for the use of the monastery and has now vanished along with the monks.

The two churches survived the Reformation, the wonderful stained glass windows a later installation.

In its early years, the Abbey became known for its miracles and grew wealthy from pilgrims. It also had powerful patrons, including Lady Godiva who, presumably fully clothed, gifted a new church to the Abbey. 

Over the next 800 years the abbey grew in wealth and power, until in 1540 it was blown away in a puff of wind—or less poetically—when Henry VIII turfed the monks out in the middle of their Vespers. Little remains of the monastery now, other than the Bell tower, the cloister arch and remnants of walls. Much of the stone was cannibalised by local townsfolk some of which you can spot in the houses nearby.  

Entering the abbey grounds

Remnants of original Norman stone work

                                                      Adjoining lane and buildings

                                                                     And coffee!

 

Lisbon

The ship berthed in Lisbon at a time when the city’s extensive drainage network was being repaired and, as a result, cranes rather than churches dominated the landscape. Carthaginian, Roman, Moorish, it has quite a history despite its infernal hills.

We had a bare three hours in Lisbon, which limited what we could do. Organised coach trips could have taken us to some very picturesque places outside of Lisbon but these involved two hours of travelling , so it hardly seemed worth it. We could have walked into Lisbon from the ship, but my feet still ached from the memory of its never-ending hills. So, with some reservation, we settled on a coach tour of the city. As decisions go, it ranks with Hitler’s invasion of Russia. The coach was small and hot and seemingly immovable blinds blocked much of window, allowing us the narrowest of views. It was like being in a burka on wheels. I saw the bobbing heads of pedestrians as the enthusiastic tour guide enthused on the invisible baroque skyline, colourful frescos, tiles and complex stucco work. Eventually I gave up and dug out my kindle. Unfortunately reading proved impossible, the commentary so loud and overwhelming. We did at least get to see the incredible Jeronimos Monastery—but only for ten minutes and that from the outside.  

 

In 1487, Vasco da Gama and his men spent the night in a run-down church reputedly in prayer before setting off on a voyage that would change the world. His voyage down the coast of Africa, around the Cape of Good Hope—and some years later India—broke the Muslim monopoly on Eastern trade and encouraged the great maritime empires of Western Europe. To mark this, the original run-down church was replaced by the beautifully ornate Jeronimos Monastery begun on January 6^th 1501 and completed a hundred years later. A 5% tax on the African and Indian trade brought in a 150 lb of gold per annum, which meant no money was spared in its construction. 

In 1880, Vasco da Gama’s remains were reburied in their new home.

Freed from the burka, sailing from Lisbon was liberating. Sea and sky, the great River Tagus and four stunning monuments. 

The Monument of the Explorers celebrates Prince Henry the Navigator and the explorers whose discoveries created a maritime empire and made Portugal fabulously wealthy. It’s a 184 ft slab carved in the shape of a caravel with Prince Henry leading thirty three sculptures of explorers and cartographers on the sides of the ship. It is huge. Its interior, which we didn’t see from our ship, has space for an auditorium, two exhibition halls, and rooms above that. 

 

The Belem Tower was built in the early C16th to celebrate Portuguese power and to guard the Tagus and strengthen Lisbon’s defence from any attack from the sea. If you look carefully, you will see the ornate flourishes of the Manueline style and a Moorish influence in its minarets. Without them it would just be a thirty metre four storey tower. 

 

The Sanctuary of Christ the King was inspired by the Christ the Redeemer statue in Rio de Janeiro in Brazil and erected in 1959 in thanksgiving for Portugal’s neutrality during World War II and its consequent escape from destruction.

The 25^th April Bridge is based upon the two bridges in San Francisco. For nerds and quizzers alike, it was once the fifth largest suspension bridge in the world, and the longest outside of the USA. It has since sunk to the 48th longest suspension bridge in the world.

As you sail beneath it, it’s hard to image the six lanes of traffic and a double rail track immediately above 

The Bay of Biscay, uncharacteristically calm

And home at last. Liverpool. God's own city.

Cartagena

 

It was wonderful sailing into Cartagena ( Carthago Nova or New Carthage) knowing we were seeing what ancient Carthaginians and Romans would have seen as they approached, even perhaps, the harbour, from a distance at least. Even the sleek yachts and sail boats, the technology essentially unchanged.

And as you walked the streets, you quickly sensed and saw the slow decomposition of past civilisations, one built upon the other. 

It was founded in 227BC by  Hasdrubal the Fair and named Qart Hadasht, Phoenician for New Town. Nothing good lasts for ever. Eighteen years later, in 209 BC it was attacked by the Roman general, Scipio Africanus. 

Even today, Scipio is recognised as a supreme strategist, one of the greatest in history and taught as such in military schools. He launched a determined coastal attack which despite their strong defences alarmed the Carthaginians—to the extent they withdrew their troops from their northern wall to withstand the attack. It was what Scipio was waiting for. Mago, the Carthaginian general, calculated, mistakenly, the northern wall was safe enough, protected as it was by a wide lagoon. Scipio, however, had learned that the lagoon was quite shallow and ebbed with the tide. (He conned his soldiers, Neptune had personally informed him of this in a dream.) With the fighting focused on the coastal wall, five hundred Romans waded through the lagoon, clambered the walls and opened the gates. 

Renamed Carthago Nova, Cartagena became one of the great cities of the Roman empire, much of its wealth derived from its silver mines. The dream ended in 425 AD when the city was sacked by the Vandals. Some years later the Byzantines took it over, and in 714 AD the city fell under Arab control. Cartagena remained Muslim until 1245 AD when Christian armies swept in and claimed it for Castile. 

After years of prosperity the city was in steep decline by the early C20th, still evident in some of the streets. It was the rediscovery of its past that has brought Cartagena renewed prosperity. ‘What have the Romans ever done for us?’ as they say.

The old city is very walkable, a short stroll from the harbour takes you to the gleaming marble paved Calle Mayor, its beautiful baroque buildings a powerful reminder of its golden age of prosperity, at least for the rich. 

The Gran Hotel

And who wouldn't like to stay in a hotel like this?

Traditionally the Cathedral of Viega Santa Maria was founded by the apostle St James, who landed here in 1st century AD spreading the word of Christ. When, in the C13th, Christian kings drove out the Moors, a new Cathedral was commissioned on the original site. During the Spanish Civil War 1936-39 the cathedral and surrounding buildings were largely destroyed by arial bombardment, and the future was reclaimed by the past. In clearing the devastation, they discovered the ruins of a vast Roman complex built upon by Vandals, Arabs and later, Christians. As you enter the rediscovered Roman theatre you walk through the bombed cathedral’s foundations.

The Rediscovered Roman Theatre

It was customary for the rich to sit near the front and the poor to enter and exit from the top and farther away. The two smallish holes at the top of these two photos above were called Vomitaria deriving from the latin Vomere -- 'to spew forth.'  A nice visual image. 

And as you look out from the theatre you realise how much of Rome lies beneath the modern city. 

An archaeologist was asked by a student where would she suggest investigating. Her answer was succinct. ‘Throw a stone and start digging.’ And this is a tribute to Cartagena, in marked contrast to Carthage (see previous post) Their past is everywhere, and everywhere treasured. You can visit recently excavated Roman baths, temple, street and houses and from there see the stuff just outside yet to be excavated. You can walk the streets and see Roman columns in an elegant sprawl. You can browse in a nondescript thrift store and glimpse the past beneath your feet. 

In this thrift store you can walk over glass panels showing its Roman substructure. Note my elegant trainers

Below the excavated baths, temple, buildings and street.

Part of a wall fresco

Below, the overspill.

And  broken columns lining the street.

And ending on a sweet note, we discovered a new way to serve coffee – but only for the non-diabetic and those with sweet teeth.  Read how to make it and weep, or alternatively try it.

 

                                                           All in all, one of our favourite cities