I was snowing quite prettily when Lucy and I arrived in Canterbury on Saturday afternoon, so we could explore the town in relative ease.
My first impression was very pleasant – there were a surprising number of people around. It also had a Tudor-ey kind of feel that reminded me of Stratford. The high streets are closed to traffic, and the relaxed air made for good random wandering.
The first thing I really liked was the library on Canterbury High Street:
Most of the surrounding shops are all called Canterbury this and Canterbury that, so I felt like I was back in Christchurch a little. Especially since the main tourist attraction is a cathedral.
It wasn’t hard to spot the main event, but the actual entry gate was well hidden. It’s tucked between shops like some random retailer:
If we’d come at it straight on instead of sideways, we couldn’t have missed Jesus perched above the pedestrians, looking miserable:
On first glance, I was really disappointed with the complex. This is supposed to be one of the most important Anglican churches in the world, but it is surrounded by outbuildings and car parks. Ugly stuff! I couldn’t get a photo that wasn't blocked by walls or rubbish skips etc, so here is someone else’s effort (taken in the 1970s I think):
Up close it is much more impressive:
I found a side path to explore. This was a great idea; we found the cloisters and lovely rooms away from the majority of visitors. It also gave a good view of how the building was put together – some of the nooks felt like all the dimensions were colliding:
Inside, it is a bit calmer. The ceiling is quite spectacular, and my research meant I knew it was a very early English Gothic example of high pointed arches, flying buttresses, and rib vaulting. But I didn’t need a book to tell me that the stained glass is unbelievable:
Actually, the architecture pretty much speaks for itself. Initially, I was disappointed with the lack of spectacle and awe conveyed by the building (compared to other churches like Sacre Coeur) because there was very little colour. However, the glory is saved for small bits – like this font (that is rather more gilt and blue in reality):
We joined the service that was taking place but it was a bit dull, so we just checked out some souvenirs and found the nearest pub before heading back to the hostel for the evening.
The morning found us navigating our way through thick, thick snow towards the train station. It was freezing, but the daffodils were pretty, and nothing puts me off a cheesy spring photo:
We had a good three hours to warm up again, however, as our Ashford to Eastbourne train limped south at about walking speed.
The snow stopped and the wind picked up as we got into town. Eastbourne gets a lot of stick for being an old people’s resort, but I thought the beachside hotels and tearooms were quaint.
It may have been cold and lonely outside, but there was lots of company available at the Carlton Hotel – holding its weekly pair dancing and sing along session. Lucy thought I was joking when I suggested we hang out in the day lounge, but I wasn’t bothered that the average age was probably 75. I ended up knowing most of the songs anyway – because I am a dork with a taste for nostalgia.
There was something comforting about sitting in the warmth, drinking a £1.50 brandy, deciding that today’s youth don’t know they’re born, and my goodness isn’t there a complete lack of discipline in homes and schools these days etc etc. (My participation in this conversation required just an initial nod of agreement.)
An hour was long enough, so we headed to our hotel. Unfortunately, there was a mistake with the booking, and we actually ended up coming home that night instead.
So, a shortened holiday, but no less interesting in the end. It was excellent to finally see Canterbury Cathedral (my tourist To Do List has one more tick!), and it is always good to get out of London.
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