Let us pray

The Cathedral in Toulouse is not where you expect to find it and a visit to the centre could well mean that you would miss it, which would be a shame as its shambolic unity is unique and matched only by the peace that surounds it.

Inside, deep in the hushed interior and somewhere behind the Nave, there is an ancient door beneath a Latin inscription that seems to invite you to enter only when you are ready to die.

My grasp of Latin is rudimentary so i may well have mistranslated there, something that five years study in my adolesence failed to remedy, or perhaps set in concrete. I remember guessing most of what i wrote in the final exam, something which goes a long way to explain the grade i was given.

I visited the Cathedral today in order to photograph the door but was unable to capture the essence of fear and praise that it envokes. I am tempted to use the one of the men who had opened the side door in the organ to carry out pipe repairs but have settled for this one that shows the view as you exit from the front.

And i suddenly realised that my memory of doors is associated more with exiting than entering. Wierd that.