Then we went into the crypt where there was an exhibition of ancient manuscripts. I found this early copy of a letter (below) from a young monk who used to be employed many centuries ago. It says, 'Dear Mum. I'm having quite a nice time, but it is cold in this basement, and as they are making us wear dresses, and there's quite a breeze when you're walking across the cathedral green, I am glad you packed my thick woollen pants. I know I complained at the time and said they were well old-fashioned, but you were right. They have given me a very strange pen to write out the Gospels with, and I wonder if you could send me a packet of Biros instead. Finally, if you fancy visiting, that would be great, but we have a vow of silence, and I can't promise a two-sided conversation. What's new, hey, Ma? (Only joking. I miss you. Monks can't cook - you should have tasted the goose casserole we had earlier. I bet there's not one Jamie Oliver cookbook in this place.)
Love Ethelred. (Oh, that's the other thing. They changed my name. Apparently Wayne was not acceptable.)
There MUST have been another picture they could have used.