Good to see this chapel. My father was the Chaplain to the Theological College that used to be in Wells. Many of the houses in the Vicar's Close were used by the students as lodgings. We lived in no.15. In 1953, when I was seven, I started as a server in this chapel, for which Dad was responsible. The vestry was on the upper floor, so one had to wind your way down the spiral stone staircase - OK for me in my civvies, but a bit dodgier for Dad in his vestments and carrying the sacred vessels.
My other task was to manually pump the side chapel organ for the Sunday School in the Cathedral.

what a wicked place to live! wells is truly magical. did you take it all for granted, being young ? I was lucky enough to be brought up in beautiful old buildings and loved it - and got used to scurrying up and down spiral stairs in robes. we tied ours up around our waists and tucked the ends into our knee breeches, which helped when cycling too.

I remember relatively little about Wells. The model zoo in the Cathedral Junior School's first year class-room. Feeding the swans at the Bishop's Palace. A model shop which operated as part of a garage. The stream down the side of the main street.
I am still convinced that my Dinky Foden tanker is in my secret hidey hole under my bedroom floor in No.15. We could never find it having moved to the grim, cold and draughty Coleford Vicarage, up on Mendip.
Twelve or so years later, in a back street pub in Wells, with a school friend, I remember being introduced to a thirst quenching ginger beer and draught cider shandy!