To Ely

August 18, 2024

Ho hum, another day in the Fens. Flat, uneventful, no drama, few compelling reasons to stop for photos as long as you know the GoPro is humming along keeping a record behind your back. Its a little windier today than yesterday and our route is a little busier (a quieter one was available if we wanted to add about seven miles), but over all it was a fine transition from Point A to Point B, nudging us a bit closer to our ferry to Holland.

As we bike past one flat cropland after another I try to envision what this must have been like when it was all a vast swampland with a few small islets rising above it enough to support a settlement. It creates a romantic image, like the moors. Imagine Holmes and Watson wading through this muck with a fearsome hound baying in the background, or Meryl Streep sinking into it swatting away mosquitoes waiting for her French Lieutenant to return.

I’m also doing my best to expel a pair of earworms that have accompanied me ever since we caught sight of the Boston Stump far out across the fens yesterday: one of the melodies from Sibelius’s Finlandia and then the opening lilt from his 2nd symphony pop into my head, surprising me that they’re still retrievable from up there after all this time.

Later I make a feeble and unsuccessful attempt to talking Rachael into using Finlandia as the sound track for today’s video, but she won’t have it. It’s a very clever idea though, one I’m sure you’d all enjoy and be impressed and amused by. Finlandia/Fenlandia, get it?

The view from the bridge. In a ride that didn’t compel many photo stops, I made the most of this one.

I liked this purple and white fringe edging a field of potatoes. What is this?

Crossing the New Bedford River. Like nearly all the waterways in the Fens it was straightened four hundred years ago in the draining project.

Video sound track: Ritooria, by Keith Jarrett

The big climbs of the day come right at the end. First there’s a thirty foot rise to Little Downham, one of the Fen Islands. And then we lose it all back before climbing way up to Ely (elev 85’) at the end. Ely, occupying the highest ground in the fens, Ely is an important historical city but a small one - it’s the second smallest city in England. It’s small enough that navigation is easy, and we have no trouble finding our way to the local Wildwood, where we enjoy the same butterflied sea bass dish we enjoyed two months ago back in Exeter.

While we sit at our windowside table I’m distracted by the full length mirror next to it that reflects back images of people on the sidewalk walking toward me from behind my back. I see them coming, and then I see the real person through the window instead of the mirror, and then they disappear when it looks like they should be walking straight into the mirror. It’s as startling when we leave as when we sat down.

Yup, definitely time to be looking for a barber shop.

Very disorienting. You can see the helmeted girl on her scooter approaching herself from both edges of the frame.

We’re staying in an enormous place at the Old Warehouse Apartments, a block from Main Street and three blocks from the cathedral we can see from our window. With two full bedrooms and an office space, it’s big enough for the Grampies and their son and the grandkids to fit in comfortably. Maybe I’ll take some shots of the place after we neaten it up when we pack to go, but for now at least here’s the view from our window:

The west tower of Ely Cathedral, the Ship of the Fens.

We stayed in Ely two years ago, and for three nights last time. Since I’ve already seen the town I planned to take a late afternoon walk to a nearby wetland to see if I could see an Egyptian goose or something new like that. I changed my mind when I neared the cathedral though and was awed enough by it that I spent the next hour and a half walking around it and admiring it.

And it’s a good thing I did, because later I’ll go back to read the earlier journal because I thought I’d reuse some words to describe it rather than starting fresh and I’m surprised to see that we hardly looked at the cathedral then. Instead we just went on long day rides and a hike to check out the ever-fascinating fens that we were seeing for the first time.

So the photos below are the one look you’ll get from me of the cathedral, and sadly they don’t include the interior because the doors were just shutting for the day when I arrived. A shame, because the photos of the interior look completely stunning. Sad to say, but I think I’ve missed my chance on this one - we’re not likely to return to Fenlandia a third time.

The view above the rooftops was enough to entice me to change my plans. From here it suggests to me one of the great chateaus along the Loire.

The east end of Ely Cathedral. A Norman construction built in the late 11th century, it replaced the Ely abbey founded four hundred years earlier.

A longer view, but still not including the east end and its tower, the one we saw from our apartment window. I was intrigued by the couple out there in an apparent staring contest. I was puzzled by them and looked to see if they had a hat out for donations.

A detail view of a corner that caught my interest. There could have been many. It’s a remarkable construction.

I was intrigued by this figure too, and sorry there wasn’t a plaque with information about it. And that couple still hasn’t moved yet!

The soaring east tower, visible for many miles across the fens. The cathedral is nicknamed the Ship of the Fens, which especially makes sense when you realize that at the time it was built Ely was an island.

Half an hour later and they’re still at it. I’m impressed.

And I’m an idiot too, I realize after I finally zoom in on the odd couple. You think I might have been tipped off by the other two statues.

Saint Mary’s Cottage, built around 1550.

Oliver Crmwell’s house from when he lived here between 1636 and 1646.

Behind Cromwell’s house is the churchyard of Saint Mary’s Church.

Church Lane. Saint Mary’s Church is off frame on the right, and on the left are walls of the cathedral grounds.

The Porta, the original entrance to the monastery.

I’ve found the Missin Gate! It’s right next to the Merchant’s House.

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Today's ride: 25 miles (40 km)
Total: 3,359 miles (5,406 km)

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Gregory GarceauAs a 1/4 Finlander, I appreciated your Finlandia/Fenlandia quip. Like England, Minnesota has an Ely too. With a population of 3,200, it's the biggest city in the Boundary Waters Wilderness Canoe Area. It doesn't look much like the England version though.
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2 months ago

Gregory GarceauTo Gregory GarceauMinnesota also has a town called Finlandia, which is a day's bike ride from Ely.
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2 months ago

Scott AndersonTo Gregory GarceauInteresting. So Minnesota has a foot in both the Finnish and the fennish camps.
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2 months ago

Gregory GarceauTo Scott AndersonGood one! I wish I had come up with that line.
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2 months ago

Jon AylingGlad you're enjoying the Fens - or at least relieved by their flatness, and glad the wind's being reasonable. Cambridgeshire is home ground to me as UK residence number 3 - several of these lanes, and particularly the crossing of the Bedford river, look awfully familiar!

Ely is a lovely little city and now a seriously prosperous satellite of Cambridge. For some of its strange history its worth looking up Hereward the Wake and the Saxon and Viking rebels that held "Eel Island" against the Normans - the intermittent causeways over the fens they used, like at Aldreth, still exist and are rideable (though can be *very* muddy and challenging).
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2 months ago