Canterbury is a very pretty train ride. Most of it is through fields and distant hills, past rusty-coloured stations with names like Sevenoaks, Pluckley and Wye. If you want to sit back and enjoy a bit of English countryside then this is the route to do it.
Before you head towards the cathedral you should definitely allow yourself two hours to walk around the town because it’s full of crooked wooden houses and knobbly, cobbled streets. It’s the kind of old English town that you’d put on a postcard, or a tea towel, or the front cover of a guidebook. You’ll immediately make plans to retire here, die here, or come back for a week next year.
The main route runs in a straight line from the West Gate, down St. Peter’s Street, High Street and St. George’s Street. If you check out all the side streets past the canal then you will come across some really pretty scenes. There are lots of Tudor-style houses and rickety old pubs and a few stone chapels, and people larking about on the punts.
The best moment will come when you round a corner and find yourself staring at the cathedral gatehouse. This is the most fantastic looking thing you’ll see all day. It is wonderfully ornate and obviously old, and covered in heraldic shields and worn-down statuary – bishops and saints with flat faces and fingers missing on their praying hands.
I must admit that the cathedral wasn’t as large as I was expecting (nothing ever is), but inside it opens up into a huge cavernous tube. It is long, narrow and amazingly tall. They could do with putting a few curtains up though, because it’s a bit too bright for my tastes. I like my churches to be dark and gloomy (even a bit spooky) and this one is the brightest shade of brown.
Halfway up the aisle is the spot where Thomas Becket got bludgeoned to death by Henry II’s minions. It is certainly interesting to look at, but I could do without the great big modern art piece they’ve hung on top. It looks like three jagged swords dripping with blood. Is that really necessary? They should have just stuck with a simple rack of candles and left you alone to ponder the scene.
I am staring at it right now: the spot where Tom got butchered. I am trying to imagine the knights’ footsteps stamping up the nave and Tommy’s screams as they kicked his head in, but it’s not easy with fifty-thousand people all crowding around the crime scene. They should rope it off with yellow police tape and get the forensics down here. Get Gil Grissom down here, or Columbo, or that that perm-haired old granny from Murder She Wrote.
And where was God when Tommy needed him, huh? You would have thought that God might have intervened when the Archbishop of Canterbury was getting set upon by violent murderers, but no – not interested. Thanks God. Thanks a bunch! I wonder how that conversation went when Tom got up to the Pearly Gates. Heaven must have heard a few new words that day.
After the central screen comes the real heart of the church: the quire and altar. To the right of those is a treasure that you might miss if you’re not paying attention: a piece of armour worn by the Black Prince – the guy who beat the French at the Battle of Crécy (the one before Agincourt). If you know your medieval history then you’ll know that he was quite a cool dude: the Rambo of his day. And next to that are two of the most vibrant and colourful stained-glass windows that I have ever seen in my life. I wish you plenty of sunshine when you come to Canterbury, because when those two windows are backlit by the sun you’ll be treated to a picture show.
If you carry on walking round to the end then you’ll see a solitary candle sitting on the floor. This was where the original shrine to Becket stood before it got pulled down on the orders of Henry VIII. It’s amazing to think that this shrine was already hundreds of years old in Henry’s day.
My favourite part of the cathedral is the crypt because they’ve turned the light level down and you can really appreciate the candles. They glow gold down here. If I was going to do some praying then this is where I would do it. I suppose I could have a go while I’m here, what’s the harm? But I’m not religious so I haven’t got a clue what to do.
1) Kneel down (I’m not doing that with my dodgy knees); 2) Put your hands together into a triangle shape; 3) Mind meld with the Almighty (that’s the difficult bit). Has anyone ever got through to the big fella and had a chat?
I’m not praying for world peace – sod that. I’m praying for rain. Let’s keep it nice and simple seeing as it’s my first prayer. Let’s see if he can drum up a thunderstorm on a sunny day, and then maybe I’ll start believing in him. I don’t care if he did create the entire universe in seven days: unless it rains in the next five minutes I’m not buying it.
Before you go home remember to check out the ruined Norman castle on the western edge of town. It’s bordered by a busy road and modern houses now, which kind of ruins the mood a bit, but once you step inside the quiet walls you can sit there with the big birds roosting in the window arches. You get a real ethereal feeling sitting inside that ancient place.
See if you can find the spiral staircase that takes you up to the ruined first floor.
So then… here’s the million-dollar question. Is Canterbury worth a visit? As much as I enjoyed it (and I did enjoy it), I’m not sure that I’d want to waste a day of my holiday on it. The town is certainly pretty, and the cathedral is definitely worth seeing, but it doesn’t come close to Oxford, Cambridge or Bath.
If you like beautiful old churches then you might like to visit St. Paul’s Cathedral, Westminster Abbey and Brompton Oratory
