Georgi's Overseas Odessey: Sending m'self to Coventry

After catching up with that gorgeous bloke of mine, who has been working fearsome hard of late, we found a fantastic little guesthouse (plain but comfy rooms and nice touches, like real coffee and herbal tea at brekkie!). Next morning, I took myself off to Coventry in search of the country's newest Cathedral and a glimpse of the naked lady statue - this is, after all, Godiva territory.

I've always been curious to see the town that my Cuzin Tup called home for a couple of years. And it gave me a chance to add to my Cathedral tally (now at 8, plus 5 Abbeys) - although "Cov's" is the most unusual yet. The Church of St Stephen wasn’t actually a cathedral at all for most of its life – the ‘official’ cathedral of Coventry was nearby St Mary’s, although it never really recovered after the reformation… After surviving eight centuries of warfare, Reformation and the decay of old age, St Stephens was granted cathedral status in 1918, only to be firebombed by the Germans in November 1940 (Mum, in case you're interested, the unlucky day was the 14th...)

Ironically, reinforcing iron beams that had been installed just a few decades earlier to support the roof contributed to the building’s demise – as they warped in the heat they pulled the whole structure down in on itself.
The ruined building was cleared of rubble and cleaned, then left as a reminder of the war, in the same way that some churches in Germany have (the KaiserWilhelmGedachtsnichtKirke in Berlin springs to mind).

The nave now stands open to the sky, the windows still clinging to fragments of shattered stained glass, the only complete structure a bell tower.

Walking out what would have once been a left transept door, the whole building flows seamlessly into the new cathedral built next door. I hadn't, at first, intended to go in there, but it rained, so in I went.

It smells like an old church, and for a new building, it captures the majesty of buildings centuries older. Stark soaring stone, ribbed and membraned vaulted ceilings with cris-crossing stone and timber, modern takes on stained glass masterpieces, and behind the altar, vibrant from floor to arcing ceiling, a brilliant green, gold and grey tapestry of Christ lends warmth and colour to natures greys, browns and bronze. Above the choir stalls, spiky timber 'trees' hold lights - or are they doves of peace? I couldn't help but be impressed, although there were too many congregationists around to feel quite right taking photos. This was a place for the practicing of a thoroughly modern faith, and fundamentally holy. I took my leave.

Of course, Coventry is also famous for Lady Godiva, the Saxon queen whose husband said in jest that his wife would ride naked on horseback through the town before he would lower taxes. As someone with good experience in getting my kit off for a noble cause, I can only stand and applaud this one!