tintern abbey

As part of our look at old South Wales this Saturday, we stopped at Tintern Abbey. I was determined to see the place because it was the inspiration for one of my favourite bits of verse, which is in Wordsworth's "Lines Written a Few Miles above Tintern Abbey". We discovered a couple things there, the first and more mundane of which is that it is a great thing to take the self-directed audio tour offered at tourist sites. The one for the abbey was invaluable, with tastefully used gregorian chants and all, and the visit was probably infinitely better because we had them. You'll see them in the pictures. It might look like we're being strangely anti-social and listening to headphones individually while on a trip together, but, well, it was worth it.

The other thing we discovered is that attractions off the regular radar are fabulous and inspiring, especially when they come recommended by major literary figures, so to speak. The excerpt I love from Wordsworth's poem goes like this:

For I have learned
To look on nature, not as in the hour
Of thoughtless youth; but hearing oftentimes
The still, sad music of humanity,
Nor harsh nor grating, though of ample power
To chasten and subdue. And I have felt
A presence that disturbs me with the joy
Of elevated thoughts; a sense sublime
Of something far more deeply interfused,
Whose dwelling is the light of setting suns,
And the round ocean and the living air,
And the blue sky, and in the mind of man;
A motion and a spirit, that impels
All thinking things, all objects of all thought,
And rolls through all things. Therefore am I still
A lover of the meadows and the woods,
And mountains; and of all that we behold
From this green earth; of all the mighty world
Of eye, and ear,--both what they half create,
And what perceive; well pleased to recognise
In nature and the language of the sense,
The anchor of my purest thoughts, the nurse,
The guide, the guardian of my heart, and soul
Of all my moral being.

Maybe it was the kind of solemnity that comes from ruins of graceful and austere places, the drama of bird's nests and puddles between stone arches and walls, the contrast to the bulk and military air of the castle we'd visited that morning, or maybe just the threat of rain. Either way
we may not be quite as eloquent as old Will, but we were definitely a reflective pair that afternoon. And we loved the place. Here's a panorama view from the inside. Be sure to click on it (and the later pictures) to get the full effect.


And for your edification, in case you have always been longing to know more about Tintern Abbey, are otherwise interested in the ruins of British history, or just like looking at pictures, here are a few images. We start with the abbey, as seen from the (relatively recent) road that runs in front of it:


That road takes us to the gift shop and welcome area:


This was where we got our handy and fab audio guides. Joey put his on and immediately looked more pensive and devout.


I was more than a little excited about it all, especially when we got inside the church building itself.


What used to be an abbey as fancy as any others we'll blog about, now has grassy floor and windows and roofs open to the sky.


Here's Joey, contemplating his own verses, on the grass.


The west window, with me for scale.


The South window, same scale.


And the outside view, of course complete with wind and rain.


There you have it, ladies and gentlemen: the ruins at Tintern Abbey.