People can die of mere imagination -Chaucer

Canterbury, Whitstable, and Dover 
Kent, England July 12-14, 2020 

I wish everyone knew what it was like to live with a personal docent.  Anyone who has traveled with us, know of whom I speak.  It’s amazing how David has opened up my world.  Storytime starts as soon as we walk outside.  Stiff historic characters that once meant nothing more to me than a place holder in time, become living, colorful people full of ambition and romance.  Alright, throw in some seriously gruesome cruelty and you’ll have the Kings and Queens summed up. ​

This morning we woke early (for us) and took a train to Canterbury.  Easy, cheap train costing about $10. Covid times make traveling strange.  It’s not crowded, and 95% of people are wearing masks, covering any everyday smirks or smiles, leaving no room for random connection. 
Again, due to COVID you can’t happen upon cool things like you once could.  If you haven’t done your homework, you will miss out because everything requires a reservation.  Even if it is free, you must have a ticket to enter.  Fortunately, I have done my homework.   

After exiting the Canterbury train station we found ourselves walking on top of the city wall.  It’s amazing because it is clear and easy to imagine the walls, the barrier between the wild countryside and the civilized city and the way they might have been. Once inside the city it’s impossible to miss the quaint inns and storefronts bending at funny angles with all the embellishments of colorful flowers in full bloom hanging out of their window boxes. But it’s the Cathedral that brings people.  It is the story of how King Henry II believed a rumor that his arch bishop of Canterbury, Thomas Becket,  was building an army to go against him.  It is that misinformation that struck a cord with me.  We can see what impact this rumor had and how it lead to the murder of Thomas Becket. Interesting story and for those that are curious, read more about this.  Pope Alexander III declared Thomas Becket a Saint.  The many miracles that were attributed to him, makes the Canterbury Cathedral one of the greatest Pilgrimage sites in Europe.   ​

Retracing the steps on the stairs that are permanently shaped from men that crawled on their knees decades before me, gave me pause. These men came from so far. Believing so deeply, hoping so profoundly, and sharing similar dreams as people today.  It’s painfully clear how little we learn from one another.  All of these stories repeat themselves.  Different dates, different people and yet similar motivations. ​

Then onto a city bus we go.  A mere $6 takes us down 7+ miles away into a coastal town called Whitstable. It is a delightful, quaint seaside resort town.  The saltwater breeze mixed with the screams from the seagulls make it easy to act like you don’t have a care in the world. This was a welcome feeling after months of being locked up.  
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We are staying at the fisherman’s huts right on the beach. I highly recommend this.  The location can’t be beat and the feeling of being part of the scene without needing to be part of the scene was what I celebrated the most.  ​

If you’re interested in our restaurant choices, I have them in a different blog tagged under restaurants ​...

We woke to a perfectly sunny clear day.  We rented bikes (David’s ribs had healed enough to ride on a smooth bike path) and rode east along the coast.  The path hugged the water’s edge and you’d ride through fields, old ruins, then towns of notable size, then back to peaceful ocean views.  Mostly you got the feeling that the only thing keeping the towns afloat were retirees and tourism.  Covid has hit them hard.  Then again, who hasn’t been hit hard? ​

After an 18 mile bike ride, we hopped on the train (yes, with our bikes) and railed back to Whitstable ($8.50).  It was interesting to see more of the inner route that we would have missed if we had biked home.  Clearly, lots of agriculture, but while the countryside whizzed by, we couldn’t make out what kind of crops.  We found our way back to the hut, showered and pulled two chairs outside to enjoy our view.  We canceled our dinner reservations because we were enjoying the feeling of relaxing in front of our hut, taking in the ocean view and listening to the hustle and bustle of the Oyster joint nearby, too much.  Who wants to be rushed?  Maybe a good bottle of wine encouraged the laziness? ​

Goodbye to our charming little hut, and onto a train to Dover. Dover is a dump.  There is nothing redeeming about the town itself.  However, there is an awesome Castle.   It was worth coming just to wander around.  Dover Castle is a medieval castle founded in the 11th century and has always carried significance because of its location – consider it the welcoming committee into England.  It first started as a Motte and Bailey castle and then Henry II built the keep and fortified it.  It was attacked during Henry II’s son, John’s, rein.  It continued to grow and change over time. Again, there is speculation that the growth was part because of the pilgrimage route to see Thomas Becket’s burial place in Canterbury.   All of that is interesting on its own, but then recent history comes into play.  It is here that the coordination of Dunkirk happens.  The evacuation of 338,226 allied soldiers during WWII from the Beaches of Northern France.  Naval vessels and hundreds of Civilian boats were used during this rescue.  It was drama historians love to retell. We were told of an annual reenactment the 2nd bank holiday in May – 3 day weekend.  He said it was spectacular and tickets are needed.  If you get a chance, go visit.

You may have heard of the song, the white cliffs of Dover?  Below the castle,  are gorgeous white cliffs of Dover!  There was a simple hike out, up and over the cliffs and through to the light house. A docent pointed out a trail from the beaches steeply up the white cliffs.  He said that it was a smugglers route (in the day) to avoid taxes.  When you see the intensity of the meager trail, you wonder if it was worth the cheating, and what exactly they carried up those cliffs? The Castle is part of the English Heritage Membership and the White Cliffs, and light house are part of the National Trust (Well worth both memberships!)  If you have the time, the short hike is also worth doing.  You see, you can enjoy the entire day without ever needing to go into Dover proper.  Easily back on the train and for $18 we were back in London in no time. ​