September 2, 2019 – Canterbury tales

Left City of London on the tube (Northern Line) to catch the Southeastern, then a smooth ride to Canterbury. Taxi through a medieval gate/moat, down a cobbled street with buildings without a single 90 degree angle, to the gates of Canterbury Cathedral. What an entrance! Crowds of students and tourists thronged the entrance – was the first day of school (British Labour Day was the previous Monday).

Walked into Canterbury Cathedral close (encircled by a wall and buildings) and past the Cathedral, unfortunately mostly covered in scaffolding (for three years-worth of renovations). Still magnificent. The Mother Church of Anglicans around the world. 

Up a pathway to the hotel, literally a stone’s throw from the Cathedral. Left bags at reception and out for a walk, sausage roll, coffee, and after meandering down the High Street, literally ran into a bronze Chaucer standing atop his many pilgrims. I must be in the right place!

Then into The Eastbridge Hospital of St. Thomas the Martyr, built for hospitality, the original meaning for hospital. Begun in 1180 AD soon after St. Thomas a’ Becket’s martyrdom, the building provided a place where pilgrims who couldn’t afford a night at an inn could stay. The chapel was remarkable in many ways – it dates from the 12th century, was eerily quiet even next to the High Street, and it had a stillness that was for a few moments of another time and place.

I then carried on down past a lovely church, past the Cricketeers’ Pub, and at the bottom of the High Street came to the Western Gate that I’d seen in the taxi on the way in to town. Built to protect the town in the 1370’s from an expected French invasion, it was a classic gate, right down to the moat running  along in front. The drawbridge has been replaced by a fixed bridge with cars, but it wasn’t hard to imagine what it originally looked like.

There was a helpful historical guide with graphics of what the gate and moat looked like in the 1370’s.

Skipped taking The Chaucer Tales “interactive tour”, but in the gift shop, I picked up a quill and ink set that I plan to sign my book with. 

Then back up the High Street to find Chaucer’s Bookshop, which did not disappoint. Even though the owner complained about the lack of Chaucerian titles, I immediately found a rare Chaucer resource, Chaucer’s World, compiled by Edith Rickert and edited by Crow & Olson, 1948 (Crow & Olson went on to compile Chaucer: Life Records, the ultimate source of Chaucerian facts).

Job done!

Time to check in at the main attraction, Canterbury Cathedral.

Inside, some scaffolding hid the wow factor of the vertical perpendicular Gothic architecture, the sense of soaring height familiar to any who have been blessed by such a sight. Still, the rest of the cathedral did not disappoint. 

The Crossing was impressive, and looking up, I could see the fan vaulting of Bell Harry Tower.

The Quire was fabulous, as was the shrine to St. Thomas a Becket, and the tomb of Edward of Woodstock, better known as Edward the Black Prince. King Edward the Third’s eldest son, namesake, and heir to the throne. He was named the “Black Prince” because his armour was always black. He was one of the most outstanding commanders during the Hundred Year’s War, and would have been a possible source for Chaucer’s Knight’s Tale.

I came back to the Quire later for Evensong, which was impressive once I got past the monochromatic hymns.

I had to stifle a laugh as I couldn’t help thinking of Michael Palin as the chaplain in the Meaning of Life – “Oh lord you art so big, so absolutely huge…”. If you haven’t seen the scene or the movie, give yourself a laugh…https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fINh4SsOyBw

Looking for a pint, food and some footie on the telly became an onerous task after 6:30pm, as many places had closed, or only served a pint (and one pub was showing Canadian football – the wrong kind – WTF?). After much walking and two failed attempts I found a pub right by the gates where I started. 

A bath in a long, deep tub and some bad television, then asleep by 9pm. A poor night’s sleep (hot; thin walls) also included a few moments similar to what I experienced at the chapel in St Thomas the Martyr, and I wondered if the proximity to a saint was rubbing off. 

Up at 5am and taxi past the medieval wall surrounding the town.

Then catch a train to Ashford, then Eurostar past Calais (where Chaucer travelled numerous times) to Lille – and my first time in France. More about that part of the journey in my next post…