88. St Magnus Cathedral, Kirkwall, Orkney

You have to be serious about cathedrals to tick this one off your list. It’s a good ferry ride off the top of Scotland and then, depending on where you land, a bus ride or cycle across the island of Orkney. Unless you’re lucky enough to own your own boat or plane it’s going to take more than a day even from the far north of the mainland. 

Fortunately (for me at least) my mother took her marital separation seriously enough to set up home on the island and, in my student years, I spent many a happy time there. She lived in Stromness, destination of the small ferry service which took you from the far end of the rail and road network over the often choppy waters, past the Old Man of Hoy and into the grey harbour. 

It was, to me 40 years ago, and probably remains another world. Insular and basic, living among its ancient history with little separation and - during the winter months - rarely blessed by more than a yellow, peat-smoke stained half-light. I went to the cathedral a few times during those years and loved its dark red gothic solidity - a solidity it needed whenever the traditional Ba’ Game brought hundreds of brawling men right onto its front steps. 

A generous helping of cathedral website footage from the streets around leads me to think that, while some things will inevitably have changed, the atmosphere and the muted palette of the colours would probably be the same. Unchanged too is the beautiful softness of the island accent, still infused with its Scandinavian heritage. A world away indeed.

But remoteness is only relative and the lockdown has certainly levelled things to the point where all churches and cathedrals are equally accessible from my laptop. With news that, from tomorrow, church doors  can reopen for private prayer and socially-distanced worship, this is a fine chance to round up this online exile with a return visit I’d love to remake, but probably never will.

This morning’s service - to a characteristically Orcadian soundtrack of accordion and fiddle - opens with shots of the boats in Kirkwall harbour, a reminder of the islands’ reliance on the sea for communication. 

And the theme for the day is, poignantly, the need for all of us to break down or overcome all the barriers that prevent our communication. Ubuntu, the African philosophy of establishing humanity by recognising each other as human, forms part of the sermon. 

The more familiar tenet that ‘no man is an island’ also makes an appearance in reminding us that Christians have to remove the unnecessary distinctions between people and treat us all alike. 

It’s a very moving sermon and speaks to us in the crowded, angry, confused world of today all the more clearly for coming from one of our nation’s genuine outposts. 

I shall enjoy returning to the real world of actually visiting places as soon as I it becomes practical. That, after all, is the purpose behind all this. But I have enjoyed visiting a few places separated from me not just be distance but by the passing of many years. And I will still hold these islands and this cathedral high on the list of places I won’t yet lose hope of revisiting.