WHEN a letter landed on my desk last month, appealing for volunteers to take up bellringing in Mistley I was intrigued.

I’d wanted to give it a try since a university friend revealed she regularly rang with a group in Devon.

So I arranged with Lawford ringer Dave Thurlow to go down to St Mary’s and St Michael’s Church one Thursday evening to try my hand at it.

I expected I would be a natural. After all, how hard could it be?

Well, it took me all of five minutes to realise there was a lot more to it than standing around and pulling on a rope.

Mr Thurlow and fellow ringer David Culham welcomed me at the church porch and took me on a quick tour of the tower, topped off by its landmark steeple.

For some reason, I hadn’t quite grasped it would involve climbing a tall, very narrow spiral staircase.

Being scared of heights, I took the steps slowly and gratefully arrived at the top, simply glad to have survived the ordeal without showing my fear in too shameful a fashion.

Then I was directed towards a ladder to be shown the bells themselves, in the highest part of the building – and nothing could persuade me to let go of the safety rope. I had to make do with the briefest glimpse of the giant bells as I cowered on the top step. I was terrified, much to the amusement of my guides.

Half a dozen people were expected to ring that night, and while we waited for them, I was given a quick lesson by Mr Culham.

He told me: “To get to the stage where you can ring competently, you would be looking at a few hours tuition. But I’ve been doing it for 52 years and still haven’t learned everything.”

First I had a go at pulling the tail part of the rope, supposedly the easiest bit.

Mr Culham pulled on the fluffy top half of the rope to move the bell, while I was instructed to allow my hands to be guided up by the end of the rope before pulling it all the way back down.

I jumped the gun a few times and found myself raising my arms before I needed to. Otherwise, I got the hang of it soon enough.

Then it was time to try moving the bell itself.

With some encouragement, I planted my feet and pulled down on the rope, surprised how heavy the bell was before it moved.

I did well enough to be able to move on to controlling both parts of the rope within a few minutes.

With Mr Culham watching me like a hawk, I got the bell swinging and started to relax, as I got into the rhythm of the movement.

Two minutes later, everyone was laughing again, as I made the apparently common mistake of not concentrating and failing to pull the bell down properly.

I squealed in shock as the rope tangled around my hand and I felt it yank upwards, lifting me up slightly off the floor.

I was left with a rather pink, and slightly rope-burned right hand, but I think my cheeks were burning more – through embarrassment.

By then, the rest of the group had turned up and I was allowed to sit down, nurse my sore hand and watch as they took turns ringing as a team.

One ringer acted as conductor, leading the group, letting the others know when to join in and when to stop.

It was really fascinating to watch them work together to produce a sound we all take for granted – the familiar sound of a peal of bells.

I was allowed one quick, last go before the group called it a night, and I finally felt as though I had the hang of it. When I was told that was my lot I was genuinely disappointed, but pleased to have picked up some of the basics.

I was even more pleased when I asked if it would be OK for me to come down and try it again and my request was met with smile – so it’s quite likely I will be having another go in the new year.