Revolt

Mister E and I made a trip to Durham last week. It is somewhere that I have visited frequently throughout my life, but this was the first occasion on which I have used the Park and Ride facility. As retirement is the time for new experiences, instead of heading into the City to trawl the multi storey car-parks for a space charged by the hour, we parked the car in a spacious outdoor facility adjacent to the motorway from where we were able to head into the centre by bus. Amazingly there was no charge for parking and whilst there is a fee for the bus ride, Mister E who holds a senior citizen's bus pass (I am still too young and as the age for eligibility keeps being postponed may never  qualify) was even exempt from this. 

All in all we found the process most convenient and will not hesitate to make use of it again. 

Although next time I shall make a much better effort at remembering where I have placed the return bus ticket and so spare myself the embarrassment of unpacking my handbag in public view.

Living in the countryside and driving a car, I rarely travel by bus and indeed associate such with hopper facilities at airports. As a result entering Durham on one almost conjured up the excitement of a holiday although fortunately I had left my luggage behind.

Tourists were certainly the dominant traffic along the narrow pedestrianised streets and, as the sun was shining, ice-creams and strappy tops were on display in both the Market Square and on Palace Green. 

Our purpose was to view the Magna Carta on display in a special exhibition timed to coincide with the 800th anniversary of the sealing of the original by the King and Barons at Runnymede in 1215.

The copy held by Durham Cathedral is actually of the later 1216 version of the Charter which was signed on behalf of King John's successor, his son Henry III, the original having been declared null and void by the Pope shortly after its completion. It may be a year younger but its condition was amazing; it was almost impossible to believe the age of either the vellum or ink. More surprising was its size which was nowhere near as large as I had imagined, although the 1216 version did omit a number of clauses that were in the original. Of course, I could not read any of it, in light of the stylised script and the Latin shorthand used.

The Exhibition itself which runs until the end of August is entitled "Magna Carta and the Changing Face of Revolt." It tells the history of the right of the individual to speak out and act against authority and raises the question whether the common good can justify rebellion. Leaving the exhibition all visitors are asked to post a plastic token to indicate what they might consider protesting about; restrictions on privacy and free speech seemed to be winning the day, although four content or alternatively cowardly souls had placed their voting tokens in the receptacle marked: "I would never protest."

Life has certainly come a long way since those Barons sought to extract for themselves and other free men what we might consider as very basic human rights. However, they started a process which has endured throughout the centuries of a balance between rebellion and political engagement. I am certainly grateful to  be able to have attained and enjoy a retirement in which I can exploit the many freedoms that those who came before me agitated, protested, and made sacrifices to achieve.