Then there were four

I visited the Prinknash Abbey estate today, for the first time in years. In 2005/6 I briefly worked in the gift shop there, so it holds memories, but I'd recommend the place to anyone who wants a walk or a tranquil day out in Gloucestershire.

Let's just say that visit came about because of a pair of socks. I'd borrowed them on a very cold outdoor event night, from my friend J. When they'd been washed and re-paired, I phoned and suggested we meet for coffee. This morphed into a suggestion for a day out. I was happy to oblige.

After walking down the drive, observing the contrast between sunshine and shadow; green grass and frosted blades, we viewed the walled gardens at our leisure. J was particularly struck by the arches of pear and apple trees.


Eventually we took the path from the 1970s base to the Tudor building, the site of the current monastery at St Peter's Grange. We stopped by the chapel, which has a recent-ish extension, and then took the hard-to-find path to the cemetery. This is the burial place for monks and Oblates (lay members of the congregation). These recent graves at the far end are for monks. I mentioned going to Father Damian's funeral in April: he's buried there, and the mound without a cross is for Brother Aldhelm, who died in October. He loved birdwatching, and used to come into the shop with his binoculars on, and tell me what he'd seen. All the grave markers are the same, in serried rows. It feels a little like a war cemetery, in its uniformity only. Babies and stillborn children are buried there too, with miniature markers. These were the heartbreakers for me. My own elder brother, Liam, was a short-lived soul. I never knew him, because he died after just two days, in 1959.

We made our way back to the shop and cafe, which was incredibly busy, and had lunch and a short shop-browsing session. It's all so much nicer and more inviting han when I worked there!

Then it was time to slog back up the driveway, collecting black, frozen conkers, to wait in subzero temperatures for the no..66 bus back. At the cinema in Stroud we parted company: J to catch the 63 to B&Q, and I to walk home to prepare for a staff night out at the Corner House restaurant.

PS there's isn't really a lake.







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