Going batty in the belfry

The cannonball shot through
the cathedral roof by Cromwell

After several months of waiting, Portsmouth Cathedral opened its doors for me to climb the bell-tower. First we saw all the antique silver and a wide array of vestments, dalmatics, stoles, preaching tabards and chasubles. The Sisters of Bethany (bunch of nuns) had made many splendidly colourful altar drapes but they wouldn't let us take pictures because they want to sell their book of designs. Then, at the allotted time, a nice campanologist took us and 2 random chaps on the tour. It started in the bell-ringing room with its wall plaques and awards and certificates and a chart of all the dings and dongs that they did once in a special round that took 3 1/2 hours, I'm sure the neighbours were well chuffed. This hatchway goes all the way along the loft space above the choir and is the bellringers' fire escape, although most of them can't fit through it, slight issue there.

The bellroom itself was full of girders and wobbly walking planks, cramped with 10 bells of different sizes, even the smallest cost £7,000. Then we went up even more to the cupola (built 1698) and one at a time we visited the little lantern bit right at the very top - the only thing higher than us was the weathervane.

Descending the little narrow rickety ladders (avoid copious pigeonpoo here) we went back through the bellroom and up again to the square walkway around the top of the tower but below the dome. The guide said that was their other fire escape, although also not effective as the fire department haven't got a ladder long enough to reach it. I guess when you're in that business you can rely on god to pluck you off the top anyway.

It's got a great view and you can look down at all the people sunbathing on their hidden roof terraces and stuff. It was a very good tower, I haven't towered in ages. On our way out the man said I could ring one of the bells. So, because I was listening to his lecture earlier, I didn't just pull it once, I kept pulling more and more and I managed to ring it! Everyone cheered, not kidding. Then he said I could have a go at the biggest bell (1 ton) and obviously I couldn't even move it, I just hung there on the rope, but at least everyone had a good laugh, he says it takes 2 of them to dong it. Overall it was a grade A tour, clearly health and safety is difficult in cramped medieval architecture but I only tripped over the clock adjustment wires once and I wasn't scared, more than can be said for the other visitors.

 So here in the picture you can see victorious me: the top of the square stone bit of tower is where I was in the picture above, blinking in the sunlight. The white octagon with the shutters is the bellroom, the dome is the pigeonpoo room with the little windows and the tiny pagoda with the weathervane on top is where I was!
On his run he saw someone else in the tiny pagoda so tower tours were still going.

Once he'd got back we did the long-promised trip to Clarence Pier and the Pirate golf course. A nice woman in the car park gave us a ticket that had lots of time still on it so we golfed and jived to the hip and funky music blaring out of the rollercoasters. I got my trousers wet in the sea. Then I took them off and got my pants wet in the sea. Fortunately there's a huge amount of rubbish in the car including some emergency clothes (not including pants) in case of mishaps. I had an ice cream and watched the ferries and then wasted some money in the arcades.

Tonight I am promised a Youtube video of Hawaiian volcanoes creating islands.