Canterbury

So, after three years, a pandemic and the death of Queen Elizabeth a day before we arrived here, we’re finally overseas again. Didn’t expect that last one, it must be said.

Canterbury has a bit of a split personality; with old Canterbury the historic destination for pilgrims and the seat of the Anglican Church, and on the other side new Canterbury the fantastically tourist-friendly labyrinth of pubs, restaurants and shops of the old town, full of cruise ship tour groups, other visitors and, especially on weekends, locals out for some fun.

We did the old Canterbury part by visiting the Franciscan Gardens, historic gardens encompassing Greyfriars Chapel, a 13th-century chapel straddling the river. Then there was the castle - closed due to falling masonry - and the Dane John Garden, providing a valuable public service as a beer-drinking venue and outdoor urinal.

The cathedral was something else again. Awesome in both its size and complexity, we took a couple of hours to follow the visitor’s route, and we’re sorry that we didn’t stop for longer to savour the atmosphere of an incredible historic building. And one that is, in parts, fourteen hundred years old! It was quite amazing, and the volunteers on duty were all knowledgeable and helpful.

Then, as we left, the proclamation of the accession of King Charles III was read to an enormous crowd just outside the cathedral gate, a very appropriate place to hear it.

We also took a trip to Sandwich, but were a little underwhelmed by a town that promotes itself as one of the best-preserved medieval towns in Britain (and as the origin of the eponymous culinary creation). We didn’t have any peanut butter or vegemite, but did have a gin and tonic and a pint for lunch.

Another wonderful aspect of Canterbury is the River Stour, small and fast-flowing as it runs through the city and the scenic centrepiece of some beautiful parkland. Boat trips abound, with tourists rowed for some distance through the old town to the weir at the Abbott’s Mill Garden.

We stayed in a pub near the garden, and enjoyed the odd sundowner, perched on the narrow footpath, listening to the rush of water over the weir and watching the near-misses on the nearby road.

Tomorrow, Brighton.Читать далее