We left the Victoria Coach Station from London at 0800 and boarded a National Express bus to Canterbury on yet another glorious warm and sunny English day. We had arranged to meet up with Marilyn and her husband Simon for breakfast when we arrived at the bus station in Canterbury for 10. We were almost there when the bus unfortunately broke down just 6 miles or so outside the city. I had heard a horrible grating noise a few minutes before so assumed the worse. After waiting for over half an hour for a replacement bus to come up from the depot in Dover we finally decided to flag down a city bus to Canterbury, arriving almost an hour late. Marilyn and Simon were patiently waiting for us as we had called them to tell of the situation and we were soon on our way again, this time to one of their favourite eating spots,
Mama Feelgoods. Pauline arrived shortly afterwards and after a wonderful English breakfast we were off to Orwell to visit with Betty for a few hours. She was sunning herself in the yard under the already blooming wisteria and seemed in very good health. She would be celebrating her 90th birthday later this week but is still full of fun and enjoys life with her children and grandchildren to the fullest. We took a cab afterwards to our new B&B at 55 Broad Oak Rd and had to wait over an hour before the owner could send someone over with the keys to let us in. The girl, Martine, was very apologetic and insisted on driving us to Sainsburys nearby to pick up groceries for our stay, presenting us with a bottle of wine and chocolates for the inconvenience. Thank you Sebastien for your generosity. For supper that night we enjoyed a huge salad, cheese and wine as the sun set behind the conservatory, the smell of blossoms on the warm evening air. It certainly felt good to be back in Canterbury after the noise and bustle of London!
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| with Pauline , Marilyn and Simon |
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| Betty, "Orwell", Canterbury |
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| our B&B 55 Broad Oak Rd, Canterbury |
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| river Stour, view of our B&B |
B&B, Canterbury
The next morning we were up bright and early, the sun already high in the sky promising us another hot day. We weren't disappointed and after cooking a breakfast of local sausages and eggs we got ready to meet up with my cousin Pat and her friend Tom. They picked us up and we drove a few miles to Fordwich, claimed to be the smallest village in England. Fordwich was described in the Domesday Book of 1086 as a small burgh, one of seven in Kent. It became self-governing from the eleventh century and received a Merchant Gild Charter from Henry II. I learned that the stone for Canterbury Cathedral that came from Caen in France was unloaded here, the port finally losing its importance when the River Stour silted up. Thinking about the past glories of this quaint place we sat out in the garden of the local pub for lunch. As the sun was so hot we had to move into the shade and ordered some local pub fare. I had a cold pint of Guiness with a large mixed meat ploughman, Marie had a delicious looking bowl of baked field mushrooms in a creamy Stilton sauce and spinach au gratin. It was a real pleasure to meet Tom and see Pat again after 3 years and to bring everyone up to date with our news. We spent some time exploring the centuries old church nearby and the Town Hall, built in 1544 during the reign of King Henry VII. Pat pointed out the spot where the ducking stool used to be suspended on the town crane and suspended over the river. Here women who were gossips were fined 6d and ducked. Then we drove out to her lovely home in Sturrey for coffee and cake, reluctant to come in from her beautifully kept garden. It was getting late when we said our goodbyes and prepared to meet up again with Pauline and her Mom at another pub in the nearby village of Wingham.
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| Marie, Tom and Pat, Fordwich Inn, Fordwich |
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| Tom and Marie in Pats back yard |
It was a short drive to the Anchor Inn in Wingham and the five of us, including Rob, Pauline's husband had the usual tasty English pub fare and beer. Betty, always glad to be taken out, especially to a pub, enjoyed herself as well and it was sad to have to say goodbye again. Hopefully one day we can convince them to visit us in Canada. Neither Rob nor Pauline have ever been to North America and we would love to give them a real Quebecois welcome!
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| with Rob, Pauline and Betty, The Anchor Inn, Wingham |
Sunday morning Jean arrived to pick us up to take us up to the Hatch. We strolled about together talking about our childhood sixty years ago and dodging the traffic that appears to be a undeniable fact of the 21st century. Afterwards we went out for lunch and promised to return in another three years. Chartham Hatch hasn't changed since we were here in 2014 and still retains its village atmosphere. Jeans mother died last year, the Hatchs oldest residence, and time moves on. We want it to be as we remember it but those days are over and done with and will never come back. The weather during our stay was gorgeous and, as we walked about the plum orchards and past the old school, I was reminded of how much I miss England. Tomorrow we invade France. Stay tuned. gws
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| Jean and I, Chartham Hatch |
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| Chapter Arms |
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| The Weavers |
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| Marie at Westgate |
