Cycle Norfolk - 3

Not much cycling today, as we were homeward bound. We had a happy overnight stay with good friends, still living in the house where we got engaged 38 years ago. They don't look much older, whereas...

The house has grounds all round, including an enormous walled garden, now mostly down to grass (and sprouting mushrooms when we inspected it this morning). At £20 a go in petrol alone, you can tell there's a lot of mowing. We share their dilemma of knowing when to move, and where to. Who wants our big brown furniture? And as for pictures...

You can't drive that way, but the cycle path back into Norwich runs attractively along the West bank of the Yare - once past an enormous sewage farm. There was time to visit St Peter Mancroft, and collect another sundial photograph, the "hand" being St Peter's keys in this instance. What a church! It stands alone, a stone building amongst the city's many other churches, which are flint. From the West end, you are dazzled both by the impression of light and by the gold of Seddon's reredos beneath the East window - the central figure of which is Comper's seated, beardless Christ, with something of the look of a Greek God about him.

In London, we ran into rain again. Before Liverpool Street, we passed the Olympic stadium etc., seen for the first time. Then in amongst the forest of skyscrapers which make Wren's steeples look as if they have strayed from a model village.

Legacy

A friend has been sharing with some of his wide circle thoughts about the relative greatness of Thomas Jefferson and William Jefferson Clinton. After some delay, I responded to him today.

"My younger friends," I said, "never stop telling me how, now I’m retired, my life must just be one long holiday. When however your stimulating message arrived, I was not sufficiently in holiday mode to give it the considered reply it deserves.

"Today being the closing day of the Olympics, I would bracket the names you mention, Jefferson and Clinton, with those of our new sporting heroes, in order to reflect on the true nature of leadership. I’m the greatest belongs to someone illness has since ravaged – we saw him of course at the opening ceremony – but the sentiment has been echoed by others on their own behalf in the past fortnight. Instinctively, though, don’t we all know that authentic leadership lies with those who are most modest about their achievement? We think of the Queen, for instance, but look also at Mo Farah: his first Gold was celebrated immediately by an embrace for the runner up, then by kneeling in prayer.

"All of us on your circulation list are or have no doubt been leaders one way or another – even if it’s only within the circle of our families. We are deservedly proud of our successes, but we also need to reflect on what we might have done better. As a lawyer, for instance, did I at times put the interests of the firm (i.e. myself) ahead of those of my clients?

"With the golden anniversary of matriculation coming up, we ‘62ers have been asked to reflect – in writing – upon our respective careers and indeed lives, so I’m currently dwelling on the past rather more than on the future. But it’s the future which – as a society – we must plan for. Courage is never more needed: difficult choices face us and the generations for which we most care. What style of a just life awaits them? Does our lifestyle provide an authentic model?

"A couple of months ago, I completed the last section of the main French Compostela route. Doing it solo, I had time to think, and what I was most grateful for was to be living in the here and now. That’s both the now, the reality of putting one foot down after another, come solid rain or searing sun; and the here – enjoying a beautiful part of the world, not fretting about communication with the world outside it, however easy that has become. Is it too pompous to claim I found a rule for life?"

Competition

We picnicked at Guiting Power on Friday night, before the opening concert of its annual music festival: not exactly Glyndebourne-come-to-Gloucestershire, but pretty perfect on a sunlit evening. On previous occasions we have used the one and only table, stationed by the swings, but this year it had been spirited away - I spotted it, across by the Hall: though we were there early, I felt that its removal might not go unremarked. Anyway the rug was all that was really needed.

Probyn Miers, Chairman of the Festival committee, thanked the audience for turning out despite the "competition" elsewhere. But was this really necessary, given the quality of what was respectively on offer - at Guiting and in the Olympic stadium?

In the intimate surroundings of Guiting Village Hall, Joanna MacGregor gave us characterful takes on two contrasting Beethoven sonatas - the Pastorale and Waldstein; and then joined with the Heath Quartet for the always thrilling Shostakovich piano quintet. High definition performances. In Stratford East - we caught up with the ceremony on the iPlayer this afternoon - Danny Boyle laid on his spectacularly quirky melange of Britishness to precede the athletes' parade etc. - an incredibly-long drawn out affair, which must have exhausted everyone in the arena, participators and spectators alike. It was certainly amusing in parts, but it tired me out, watching it even with the benefit of the fast forward facility.

At the back of my mind was the ever-resent [I'm leaving this typo: too good to change] thought: this ceremony has set us back £27m. Jonathon Porritt, Chair of the London 2012 Sustainability Ambassadors, happened to be dining here last night: he was at pains to set the minds of those of us present at rest about the Games' overall... sustainability - given that we accept the Olympics are a good thing in principle.

The Romans were appeased by panem et circenses, bread and circuses: for us it's circuses, sponsored by McDonalds. Those without bread will have to await David Cameron's Hunger Summit.

"Weltethos"

Last September, our Town Hall hosted the première of Richard Blackford's "Not in our time": yesterday evening, we went to Birmingham for the UK première of Jonathan Harvey's "Weltethos" on a somewhat similar theme - seeking common ground between the world's main religions on the basis of their shared ethical principles and values. Blackford's focus, a decade on from 9/11, was on peace. Harvey - brought in by the Berlin Phil. to flesh out musically the thoughts of theologian Hans Küng - is operating on a broader canvas: his six "movements" are humanity, the Golden Rule, non-violence, justice, truth and partnership.

You may think this a worthy event for the opening of the London 2012 Festival and Cultural Olympiad. We had both been looking forward to the evening for many months: it's certainly a thrill to visit Birmingham's Symphony Hall, particularly on a big occasion. And after all, isn’t peaceful coexistence what the Olympics are about - individuals competing against each other in sport unburdened by politics?

I was glad we arrived in time for Simon Halsey's pre-performance talk: otherwise the scheme of this ambitious work would have been impenetrable. As it was, I found the 90 minutes dragged, notwithstanding the diversion of watching two conductors, a huge orchestra (there were six percussionists), with the three separate choirs bobbing up and down. I liked the idea of a children's choir to plead for us to plan for the future; but does the awfully dull music of their refrain really bear six repetitions? (Judge for yourself: the piece was broadcast live, so you can ListenAgain.)

There just wasn't sufficient variety between the sections, nor did the work arrive at a significant conclusion. Its appeal is to the head, not the heart; and what's more it is to the Westerner's head, notwithstanding the aspiration of Küng (who was in the audience) to address people of faith throughout the world.

I've been an admirer of Küng since I heard him around thirty years ago, in St George's Chapel, Windsor, eloquently expounding his belief that all the Abrahamic religions should and could work together against the real enemy of our time, materialism. Jonathan Harvey has been a good friend to Cheltenham, visiting often for early performances of his work: much of it I have appreciated in a way that I rarely do with modern classical music. Nor could you wish to meet a milder man. My criticism should not take away from the achievement of bringing together this new piece and the huge forces needed to perform it. But Simon Halsey, methinks, doth protest too much when he mentions it in the same breath alongside "Elijah" and Britten's "War Requiem".

One of the versions of the Prayer of St Francis contains the words "Lord, make me a channel of thy peace;... that where there is discord, I may bring harmony." Ultimately, "Weltethos" wont last because it lacks tunes.

The Torch

The phrase "blink and you miss it" might have been invented for the passing of the Olympic torch by the end of our road. After the waiting came the police outriders, then the buses, one of which seemed to have the torch inside it. A line of ordinary cars followed up behind, and people started to drift away in large numbers. We joined them; but no: the torch was apparently still to come. We were almost home by that time, and accordingly out of the picture. Ah well, it's all hype anyway, so far as I'm concerned.