To counter the rubbish weather, we decided to head to Canterbury and spend our day popping in and out of the shops and places of interest. My sister encouraged me to spend a small fortune in Boots on skincare and nail varnish, then we spent an inoordinate amount of time browsing Cath Kidston (I may have bought the Clouds Mug which matches my sister’s bag and shoes…). Finally, we decided to keep Dad happy and head to the cathedral.
I quite like cathedrals. I find they are usually crammed to the rafters with beautiful things and historical facts, a place of peace and reflection. Of course they can be sad too – we always light a candle to remember those in our family (and sadly there are many) who have died. But there is a certain calm to every place of worship, and Canterbury is no expection. Except, perhaps, for this…
This memorial to Thomas A Becket, Archbishop of Canterbury in the C12th who, it is believed, was murdered on the orders of King Henry II, though this is still disputed to this day. The memorial, titled ‘Martyrdom’, is more than a little sinister! Of course, considering that Becket was stabbed to death in this spot in the cathedral, it is highly fitting of his violent end, but I still found it a strange placeement. My sister loved it, and it does have that Game of Thrones kind of impressiveness.
Canterbury is pretty, and don’t be put off by the fact that we had rubbish weather. You get pretty twisting, cobbled streets for your troubles if you visit, just like this:
After the cathedral and a little bit of shopping, we retreated to Strada for lunch, where the above picture was taken. This holiday was rife with #FamilySelfies! Since we introduced Dad to them, it’s become something of a tradition with us. Perhaps the family that selfies together stays together?
We had a divine lazy lunch at Strada (just look at that amazing Creamy Chicken Cavatappi!), and then once the weather had improved a little we ventured back out into the rain-slicked streets in search of more history and culture. And we found this…
I may have mentioned before that my dad and I are big history buffs. I even took a degree in History, I loved it that much, and part of the credit for that choice has to go to my dad. We enjoyed ourselves pottering around the museum, looking at samian ware pottery, ornate silver spoons, votives of various gods and this rather impressive mosaic floor (and only vaguely considering burying the party of noisy teenage schoolchildren rampaging through the museum underneath it…)
My sister does not share our interest. She spent her time getting to know the patrons of the museum…
(Disclaimer: I bought the magazine. Remember that thing I said about having no shame?)
Coming soon: Our final full day in Kent, featuring (whisper it) *sunshine!*