Time creates mini illusions. From one second to the next. It places the next in front of us. Knowing we can never go back. Knowing we can only free-fall forwards. And if we try to hold onto the past, the future becomes nowhere to be.
Three nights on this immaculate and well organised CCC site provides no excuses. The beating heart of the ancient Anglican Community and its heaped history waits for us. A downhill 1800 second saunter sees us wandering and wondering within its ancient city walls – what’s left of them. Like all ancient cities, Canterbury is a mix of old and not so old. Of new and not so new. Of things lost then uncovered. Some remembered. Some forgotten. Of fortunes made and squandered. Where sin and sorrow run hand in hand with love and joy throughout the backstreets of time.
We allow ourselves our first meander down town. Go get lost . . .
despite unsuccessful efforts to straighten it
Day two and we return. Turn the clock back again. Go visit another’s past. On our list, a punt down memory lane, or in our case, the River Stour – one of five UK Stours. Andrew’s well practised homework echoes off the ancient walls and tunnels. His entertaining inventions conjure a reality we never knew. But in some strange sense we’re able to grasp the gist. He enables our imaginations to do what they do best, imagine.
Today’s main event takes second place to a ninety minute walking tour. Colin is on form, along with the weather. We’re on a roll. By the time I’m typing this up 95% of his spiel has been . . . . what was I saying?
Still eager to make the most of our time we book an inner visit. It’s largely underwhelming, due to an ongoing five year plan of repairs. Very little internal info. No audio guide. And the £8 pre-ordered printed guide no more than a history book. A Covid one way system doesn’t help. However, we do fall across one or two aesthetic gems.
We round off our Canterbury Trails at the Azouma Moroccan restaurant. Share a couple of chicken and lamb tagines. Allow our minds the liberty to revisit. Imagine a connection. Join our now to our past – a starlit evening out in the middle of nowhere. Just short of the Sahara.
