Our Canterbury Adventure

We decided to get out of the big city today and headed east to Canterbury for a daytrip, travelling under two hours by bus each way on another cheap National Express fare. We arrived around 10:30 A.M. and started walking along the top of the city walls, where numerous pigeons were nestled in cozy spots, seemingly tailor-made for them:

Bordered by one part of the wall, the Dane John Gardens were peaceful and lovely
and the children's playground was amusingly in keeping with its location.
We walked around the ruins of Canterbury Castle, first built in the 1080s, reconstructed in the early 1100s, and later used as a jail in the 1400s. Bob calls this his "Help! Jenny's put me in jail" pose:
After a bit of a walk around the pedestrian-only central part of the town, we decided to head to the main reason most people visit Canterbury.
The cathedral was beautiful, but rather than for the building itself, the gorgeous ceilings or ample stained glass, people seem to visit Canterbury Cathedral for Thomas Becket--this appeared to hold as true on the day we were there as it did in Chaucer's time. Once the Archbishop of Canterbury, and friend of King Henry II, Becket was assassinated in 1170 in Canterbury Cathedral by knights who are thought to have taken the king's disparaging remarks about the Archbishop too seriously. Becket's death as a result of his refusal to give over some of the church's power to the state resulted in him being made a martyr and a saint. In 1174, Henry II attempted to atone for the actions brought about by his words by walking barefoot toward the cathedral while monks flogged him and then spending the night in Becket's crypt--this of course solidified the site's status as a pilgrimage destination. Of course, your view of Becket depends on how you interpret history, but that's another story. The two main Becket sites in the cathedral are a candle which marks the former site of his shrine, destroyed in the 1500s,
and a memorial, called The Martyrdom, which we overheard a guide explaining to a group incorporates the cross to represent Becket's loyalty to the church and four swords (two as shadows) to symbolize the knights who "shadowed" him. Less aware of the history around them, and more preoccupied with their cute outfits, this group of schoolchildren, dressed in their historical best, dutifully assembled for a group photo:
We almost missed the entrance to the cloister, a beautiful space

with colourful embellished ceilings gracing its walkways.

These ruins on the cathedral grounds contrasted with the modern housing just beyond,

and this well-groomed park backed onto another portion of the wall.
Also on the cathedral grounds, this house appeared to incorporate an architectural remnant into its structure in a very odd, not entirely pleasing postmodern hodgepodge:
After leaving the cathedral grounds, we wandered through town a bit more, continuing just outside the city walls toward the shed where I wanted to have lunch. Before you get too worried, it wasn't just any shed:
The namesake of both the permanent farmers' market and the adjacent raised restaurant, The Goods Shed was a fabulous spot. We decided to eat first and browse later . . .
Bob had a local cider which he quite liked and I had this lovely combination of mint, lime, and pear juice, a combo I'm going to remember for those hot summer days: Our substantial mains were amazing--pork belly with apple and quince for me, and lamb steak with garlic, kale, and white beans for Bob.
The bread that came with our meal was also fantastic--and the fact that we watched the breadmaker, Enzo, making bread at his market stall the whole time we were eating meant that we ended up buying another loaf to take home. (Actually, it didn't quite make it back to London, since we ate the bread and some lovely cheese from the market on the trip home.) It was definitely an interesting novelty to finish lunch and then see all the ingredients from our meal at various stalls in the market. Tummies full, we headed toward the West Gate, the only remaining city gate, built in the late 1300s:
Buses travel through the gate, but this bus bumped its mirror and the driver had to readjust it before continuing:
The River Stour winds through the city on a scenic route--we wanted to take a boat tour, but found out that they don't start until April. Our next stop was Eastbridge Hospital, founded in 1176. A hospital in the traditional sense of the word, providing hospitality to pilgrims through the years, it was a peaceful place. The undercroft was where pilgrims slept:
This fading thirteenth-century mural was discovered during renovations to the hospital's chapel, and the chapel's timbered ceiling is spectacular.
After leaving the hospital, we returned to the twenty-first century and made the rounds of various charity shops, where Bob got a book and a perfect pair of jeans--I came away empty-handed. One of the shops we went into had a curious sign in its window; we could extrapolate its meaning, but the etymology of the central phrase escaped us. Bob asked the store clerk, but she didn't know either. The sign said, "Please do not leave donations outside the shop or they will become fly-tipping." I looked it up in our trusty online OED, amazingly provided for free by Islington (the neighbouring borough to ours, and one of five library memberships I've accumulated so far) Library--no Canadian public library has the financial resources to grant free home access to the full Oxford English Dictionary; I've only ever had access through university libraries--and all I learned is that the phrase came into use in the late 1960s. Other online sources muse that "fly" can mean "to do something quickly and surreptitiously," and "tip" can mean "to dump garbage," resulting in the collective phrase meaning "the unauthorized dumping of waste." Anyway, after we were done with the thrift stores, it was almost time to catch our bus back to London, so we walked beside the river and enjoyed the views
before having a coffee break in the back garden of a café
which had the cutest sugar cubes.
From the café, we sauntered through the now mostly empty streets and caught our 7:00 P.M. bus back to London. Our second English adventure outside of London has made us eager to see more--but the question now is: where should we go on our next daytrip?