Our Time at Lindisfarne Priory
Much Better Without the Crowds
We'd visited Holy Island a few weeks earlier and, if we're truthful, hadn't fallen in love with it.
August had brought cars, queues and crowds. This time we'd deliberately arrived as the crossing window was closing, knowing we'd be staying on the island until the tide released us again.
The difference was remarkable.
By the time we reached the Priory, Holy Island was becoming wonderfully quiet.
Why Here?
The ruins are beautiful, but it was the location that caught us.
Lucy had been reading about St Aidan establishing the monastery here in the seventh century and I kept coming back to the same question:
Why here?
Stand among the ruins with the North Sea around you and it's easy to forget how remote this place must once have seemed. Even today, once the tide covers the causeway, there's a very definite sense that you've left the mainland behind.
A dark cloud passed across the sun while we were there and the temperature seemed to drop in seconds.
Perhaps we'd been discussing ancient beliefs a little too enthusiastically.
Either way, Lucy decided we'd seen enough.
Give It Time
That's probably our biggest recommendation.
Don't treat the Priory as something to tick off between the village and the castle.
Walk slowly. Look through the arches. Notice the changing light on the old stone. Then turn around and look out across the water towards the Northumberland coast.
Holy Island makes much more sense when you stop rushing around it.
Heather & Sand verdict: Lindisfarne Priory is undoubtedly one of Holy Island's headline attractions, but visit when it's quieter and it becomes something more than another historic ruin. The combination of ancient stone, sea, sky and the knowledge that the tide can temporarily cut you off from the mainland gives it an atmosphere that's difficult to manufacture. Very much worth slowing down for.
Read the full story from our visit: Where Is Everybody? — A Strange Afternoon on Holy Island
