Our Pilgrimage to Canterbury

Today began with a quick ride on the number 11 bus to Victoria Station, where we hopped on the train that would take us to Canterbury. Along the way, we saw the suburbs of southeast London and the smaller towns and countryside of Kent. We even saw orchards and an occasional flock of sheep. Though this was not exactly the way that Chaucer's Pilgrims made their now famous pilgrimage, the trains are nice, and the ride was smooth, so it was a fairly gentle start to the morning. Alas, we told no tales to each other or our fellow train riders along the way.

Once in Canterbury, it was immediately obvious that we were no longer in London, and in some ways that was a good thing. The town is really quite small, and the center is totally enclosed by walls that were rebuilt atop the old Roman walls. That isn't to say that some of the wall portions are not old; some date back to the late eleventh century. We walked for a bit along the wall and then dipped into the city, noting that the people of Canterbury are also quite different from Londoners. They are certainly less smooth and polished, and we saw many who not only did not seem rushed, but were drinking beer before midday. The pace began to quicken as we reached the city center area, which is more commercial. Wednesday's weekly market made the area even mor crowded. We passed by the site of an old church that was the place of Christopher Marlowe's baptism, and we traversed a few of the tiny, crowded lanes before arriving at the Canterbury Cathedral.

Because of a ceremony honoring British veterans of the Normandy invasion, we toured among plenty of older, medaled gentlemen and their wives. We first saw the soaring nave of the cathedral before touring the darker and somewhat smaller choir (the Brits call it a quire) and chapel. The most interesting sights were probably the location of the martyrdom of Saint Thomas of Becket, the tombs of Henry IV and his wife, Joan of Navarre, and the original clothing worn by the great warrior Edward the Black Prince, son of Edward III, during his funeral procession in the fourteenth century. It is in suprisingly fine condition given its age. Prince Edward's tomb was also impressive.

After wandering around the gardens and buildings near the cathedral, we made our way north to the location of Greyfriars, the first Fransician Friary in England. All that now remians is a small house that sits alongside Canterbury's river, the River Stour. The other buildings were all destroyed after Henry VIII broke with the Catholic Church and decided to destroy many of the religious centers in the country and put an end to monasticism in order to strengthen his own power and seize the riches and even the building materials of the churches. (More on this theme in a moment.) Sitting just above the tiny river and surrounded by flower gardens, the small building had a quiet beauty in a town dominated by a much larger cathedral.

After a great lunch (inventive takeout sandwiches - mine was a maple smoked chicken panini - from a small shop recommended by our Rough Guides guidebook) eaten on a bench at the remains of the Church of Saint Mary Magdelene, which was built in the eleventh century, we headed to a site just outside the city walls, Saint Augustine's Abbey. This was not the abbey of Saint Augustine of Hippo, but a priest chosen by Pope Gregory to spread Christianity in England. Because of good old King Henry VIII, almost nothing of this monastery now remains, most of it having been sold off stone by stone after Henry's break with Rome. He did keep this church around for a few years, however, as he needed a place to stay when traveling around the country, and further, he chose it as a spot to build a new palace for his fifth wife, Ann of Cleaves. But eventually, it was destroyed, and all that remains today is a beautifully preserved site that houses the ruins of this once important and powerful place. Though the abbey is listed in all of the guidebooks, we were the only tourists for much of our visit. The audio tour was lengthy, but informative, and we enjoyed traipsing among the old tombs and stones while imagining life for the friars and preists who lived and worked here. Interestingly, four ancient Kentish kings are entombed here, along with Saint Augustine and other priests and abbots who were important to this place. Michael took this picture of me sitting in the remains of the old Chapel of the Blessed Virgin, which still contains some old, colored tiles from over a thousand years ago:

We count this sacred place as one of our favorites on the trip, and we would recommend it to other Canterbury visitors.

Our last stop in Canterbury was another 250 yards outside of town at the oldest church in continuous use in England, St. Martin's Church. When the pagan King Ethelbert married the Christian Bertha of France, he gave her an old Roman building to use as a chapel. When Saint Augustine first came to Canterbury in 597, he needed a place to have mass, and the king gave him permission to use Bertha's church. (By the way, later Ethelbert was baptised by Augustine.) The church was expanded and parts were rebuilt over the years, but bits of the structure from all eras can still be seen today. The church is surrounded by a beautiful if crowded, cemetary, where most of the headstones seem to date from the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries. Again, we were the only visitors to the church, and the overcast skies coupled with the dense tree overhang made this spot seem especially peaceful while perhaps also a bit somber.

I napped during our trip back to London, and when we arrived, we braved the quick, but strong downpour that came upon as we waited for our bus to take us back to Chelsea. We had dinner at home tonight, and we are beginning to make some preparations for our early Friday departure from London. We will be sad to leave it, but other adventures in the English countryside lie ahead.