Day 15: Hutton-le-Hole and Home

Our final day together - event that is tenuous as some pilgrims slipped off early (before the rest were awake) to get transport home. For many, the 8 o'clock rise was a shock after the celebrations of the night before, but even Anthony got up eventually (after a brief excursion via the back door of the hall).

After breakfast, packing. Most of us hadn't unpacked very much - there wasn't space. There was a chance for the quicker packers to take a stroll up through this delightful village before Mass.

There was a reminder why we were here

Some found the gift shop (in the old school building?) but it was closed.

I checked that our coach had arrived, and got a glimpse of that elusive moorland.

Other just chilled out - the lull before the storm!

Our final Mass together followed, surrounded in luggage already sorted by destination for loading in the bus. We filled the hall with songs reflecting the need to take the pilgrimage with us into life - Go Tell Everyone! The service concluded with a recital by Fr Rob of an entertaining poem with a serious message.

Mass over, our transport was waiting. Monica and the driver planned the loading sequence to facilitate the various drop offs en route, then we filled the hold (and some seats) with our luggage.

The coach was parked outside the little church of St Chad's, and we had a brief opportunity to pop in before departure.

Well, we did depart, but a bit later than planned (OK, an hour later). We wiggled down the country lanes, queued through Pickering, and joined a procession down the road to York. But on the M1 we got going, and reached our lunch stop only 75 minutes late.

It was all laid out, which was great but had the effect of separating the "coach people" from the others. But a good lunch was enjoyed - we were going to need it.

An hour down the M1, asleep on the back seat of the coach, my phone rang. Patrick with an "incoming at 6 o'clock" warning. Peering over the back seat, I saw the truck come up behind us, pull out, and overtake us.

Well, time passed. We stopped at some services for 30 minutes, then dropped pilgrims at Hemel Hempstead, then joined the M25. So far so good, but Patrick called to warn of a big delay ahead. They were in the queue, and we soon joined it. There was no practical alternative but to sit and be patient, which we did, and eventually we cleared the accident site and pulled off into Redhill.

Most of the pilgrims left on the bus alighted at Redhill, and there were heartfelt farewells before we headed south again for Hove, arriving at 21:30 - yes, it was longer than a walking day. Luckily, Patrick brought his car to collect a few of us, and Pat and I were back chez Reeves by 22:15. Time for a quick cuppa before bed, then Patrick says "8:30 rise to unpack the van!". So I'd better get up!