In the Netherlands, you are never out of sight of a church steeple - the evergreen landscape is dotted with them. Villages have modest churches; cities have cathedrals.
Dordrecht's cathedral is on the Leuvehaven about ten minutes walk from our apartment. It is grand gothic. You can climb the 270 stairs to the 1600s clock-tower. The steps are narrow,winding and steep.
The pigeons-eye views of all Dordrecht and the river junction and its traffic are fantastic. Like most of Holland. Dordrecht and its cathedral sit on silty sand, with the water-table near the surface. Combine that with medieval foundations and some uneven settling is probable. The apparent tilt of the tower, viewed from a distance is no optical illusion. The Dordrecht Cathedral tower is 2.75 meters off vertical. This is common - and many soaring towers have distinct kinks as the builders corrected their heavenly probes for settling footings.
Inside, the cathedral is vast, ornately decorated and imposing. It can be pin-drop quiet. And it can thunder with hell-raising organ music. The tombs of prominent Dordrechtians who died 400 years ago dot the black marble floor. Prominent trade guilds bought side chapels and naves for their own services and decorated them prominently. Like a corporate sponsor's box at the footy.
When Napoleon rampaged through Europe, Dordrecht was occupied. The cathedral was where Napoleon stabled his horses and bedded his troops. There is evidence of the nails and rings used to tether horses in the pews.
You can't hang out in cathedrals as much as we have done this month without reflecting on the human condition. What beautiful, convincing, symbols of power these big boys are.
I find myself agog at our ability, our yearning to believe. But it's one thing to sustain a belief in fairies, the easter bunny and father christmas through childhood, reinforced by money, chocolate and presents. To leave milk teeth bedside for cash, place carrots and milk, decorate trees and leave biscuits and beer. But build cathedrals? For eternal life? Mosques for ad lib virgins? Ok, I'm in, where's the trowel?
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