When we had to close the church building at Dibley we thought long and hard about how it ought to be redeveloped.  One of the greatest fears people had was that it would end up as a carpet warehouse or suffer the fate of the ex-Primitive Methodist church down the hill which was generally termed 'the funny shop'.  We concluded that we would prefer to see the church/chapel demolished and refer to 'where our church used to be' rather than some monstrosity 'that used to be our church.'

Yesterday through the post I received some photos of the finished development 'where our church used to be.'  The development has been very tastefully done, and the pair of cottages between my old manse the the listed cottage blend remarkably well.  I was even amused to note that hte former local councillor who lived opposite and objected to the development has managed to get himself a designated parking space on the 'private drive' which the council said must be kept free of parked cars...  The joys of local politics.

So, here is a picture of the new cottages (cream doors) with the manse far left (just before the 16th century white timbered cottage).  The matching of the new bricks with the old is remarkably good, and the fake chimneys make me smile!

Photos of new build (c) Roger & Susan Wick.

The view from the rear of the manse has altered radically from open countryside and a (latterly near derelict) Victorian chapel to the 'bat house'* and new cottages...

From this

To this

(The bat house is on what was originally part of the manse garden!)

I hope that those who live in the new houses will find them to be places of happiness, love and fulfilment, consistent with the church's desire that the land serve the local community for a new generation.

* The bat house had to be built from reclaimed materials so that the bats who hung out in the church (groan) would feel at home.  Whether they returned or converted to Anglicanism up the road, who knows?!

Evidently these are the words used by the Archbish of Canterbury to describe the series Rev which aired its last episode last night.

It was, I think, an important episode, expressing, albiet in a very over-the-top way, one of the real tensions of the ministerial life which, every now and then, affects all ministers who are honest enough to admit to it.  Upset by a bad review from the 'mystery worshipper' on a website that wasn't quite Ship of Fools but we all know it was really, assigning him -1 for his sermon, Adam Smallbones (the vicar) has a crisis of calling and of faith.  He goes off on a bender, stops being nice to people and voices the questions that plague him from time to time.  At the end he is dragged off, against his will, to administer last rites to a dying parishioner and in the act rediscovers who and what he is.  In conversation with a police officer, he quotes verses from Isaiah read at his (and any Methodist, Anglican or Catholic) ordination 'here I am, send me.'  In a rare moment of empathy between people whose work involves entering the dark places, the policeman offers him a drink from the flask hidden inside his uniform, which he declines because now he is 'all right.'

It seemed to me a good place for the series to end - and to remain as a six-weeker only.

Life here in Glasgow is great, I am enjoying my ministry greatly, and feeling affirmed and secure in my calling.  It isn't alway so.  All ministers have their 'dark nights', their crises of confidence and moments of doubt.  Watching the ending of the episode I found a sense of resonance... how often it is in the occasional offices, the moments of entering others' dark places, that our sense of vocation is renewed.

Whom shall we send, and who will go for us?

Here I am, Lord, send me...

Although I had reservations about this series, suspect it may be much misunderstood, and has annoyed and offended not a few along the way, I am minded to agree with Rowan Williams that actually, for those with eyes to see and ears to hear, it has been, in the end, 'really rather good.'

Saw this postcard on Simon Woodman's blog here

The Great Glen Way being a relatively easy walk is better served with places for refreshment than many long distance footpaths, though on some stretches they remain equally few and far between.  We had quite a few stops for tea and treats along the way but were conscious the final day was essentially cross-country (apart from two VERY boring stretches of road walking, albeit in the middle of nowhere) and we would probably have to depend on water and our 'squirrel bars' (generic term we invented a few years back for muesli bars).

After the incredibly long four-plus mile climb through the forest and a more pleasant stretch at high level, we entered a coppiced area where vertical signs announced 'cafe @ campsite'.  Hurrah, we thought.  After another mile or so of no more signs, and wondering if we'd missed it a whole series of similar signs announced 'beans on toast', 'hot chocolate', 'tea and coffee.'  By now dreading discovering a 'closed' sign when we arrived, we finally spotted a cut-out 'chef' pointing into a gap between some trees.  A dog barked loudly as we followed the faint track between the trees and a bonny (NW England meaning as well as NE England/Scotland meaning) highland woman came striding out to greet us accompanied by an enormous husky, just one of several we would meet.  "Welcome," she said, "Do you want to sit under the trees or in the woodshed?"  We opted for the latter - just the beginning of the most quirky cafe I've ever been in!!

So, here we are, with our steaming mugs of tea and incredibly generous hunks of cake.  Anouk, one of the huskies, seemed to like me and settled down at my feet so relaxed that she failed to bark at the next set of customers!

Our order of 'a slice of cake' turned out to be two think slices each along with butter and two varieties of homemade jam.  Small wonder I gained weight this walk!!  Homemade ginger cake with proper stem ginger - it was fantastic.

As we were getting ready to leave a French-Canadian walker also there asked if there was 'a bathroom' she could use before setting off.  The hostess looked at her for a moment, then said, "there is a toilet, I'll show you."  We thought this sounded a good idea and followed.

We walked back along the trail before turning aside between the trees to where a corrugated iron hut stood.  Unlatching the bungy, the Canadian girl was shown a dry compost toilet and received an explanation of how it worked.  Much amused she then filmed it for posterity - and my friend photographed it.

The experience was certainly entertaining, but the facilities were spotlessly clean and odour free - unlike many bus station loos I have known over the years.

Whilst we wondered what the environmental health officer would make of it (though s/he must have inspected at some point) we also commented on how many people in parts of Africa or Asia would be thrilled to have such a toilet).

Refreshed and relieved, we set off for the remaining miles into Inverness.

The little cafe seems to be a popular stopping off point, and the hosts were generous and humorous.  Sitting in a woodshed with a husky at your feet and hens hoping for cake crumbs is not exactly an everyday experience - any more than the 'fairy at the bottom of the garden' (a term my family always use for outdoor toilets) - but it certainly added entertainment, and a bit of 'pause for thought', to our holiday.

If you Google 'Abriachan Cafe' you can find other walkers' reflections on this quirky yet wonderful place, or Abriachan Campsite for the official website.

Just a few words - I am pleasantly weary from five days of walking.  Mostly the weather was dry - and very warm - and for a flat walk there are a couple of significant uphill stretches, notably on the final day when you have to do 18/19 miles (depending which guide you believe) of which at least four are a single uphill climb.  It was fun and we enjoyed stunning scenery along the way as well as a little time in Fort Augustus, Invermorriston and Drumnadrochit.

So, for your amusement a few of the photos...