Day 286 - Home again!

And we're back! Miss us?

Phil has had to come to London to present some Brexit-related research, so of course I have taken the opportunity to tag along. It will feel like a whirlwind trip compared to the last one, but we will pack in as much as possible ... as usual.

Today was all about the flight. Up before 5:00 a.m. to catch the UP Express to the airport at 6:00. Our day flight on Air Canada (which we highly recommend over an overnight flight), left on schedule at 8:50, and landed at Heathrow at 8:10 p.m. local time. An uneventful flight (just how I like them) with Phil and I chosing the same two movies to watch: Blackkkklansman and Crazy Rich Asians. Before we knew it, we were landing.

We took the regular train line into Paddington. Travel hint here: If you want to save a few quid, avoid the Heathrow Express. From the same platform, you can get regular train service into London that makes two stops. In our case, the regular train was due in as we made it to the platform, with the Heathrow Express due in another 12 minutes. So, in fact, we arrived at about the same time as the Express, for less than half the cost.

It was about 9:30 when we arrived at Paddington, and as it was a Sunday evening, we chose to grab a bite at the pub at the station known as The Mad Bishop and Bear. Unfortunately, the kitchen was closed, but I didn't have any difficulty convincing Phil to stay put, order an ale (Tribute) and wait for me to go to the Marks and Spencer store downstairs and bring back a couple of sandwiches.

As for the name of the pub, in case you were wondering, I'll let them explain: "The land around here used to belong to the Abbey of Westminster - but was sold to the railways rather cheaply by a somewhat ‘mad’ Bishop! As for the Bear, well, this is Paddington station after all…"

We then took the Bakerloo line two stops to Maida Vale station. This is a gorgeous Grade II-listed building, which opened in 1915. It has the distinction of being the first station entirely staffed by women -- well, at least until the end of  WWI and the return of servicemen. 

From here we walked to the nearby Marriott, our home for the next three nights. The evening was a wonderfully balmy 9 degrees and we had to stop ourselves from extending the walk. 

Of course, the young man at the front desk had a Canadian connection having spent 6 months training in Montreal...and yes, he did get to experience our winters! We could see the expression of pain on his face.

Day 285 - It's about the journey, not the destination

We fly back to Canada later today. We're beyond excited to see Alex and Becca. We've always been close as a family and do a lot together, but this trip has reinforced just how important a part that will always be in our lives. And I have greatly missed my weekends with my Mom, and my laughs with my sister, although I am grateful for Skype in bridging the distance.

We've been asked what have been the highlights and low points of the trip. Highlights are tough, as there have been so many. Low points were when I was electrocuted on a farm fence and was accused by a Customs Officer as permanently living in the country since Phil is a British citizen. All great stories to tell now, so in the end, worth it. The lowest point was when Phil's cousin Marga in Germany passed away. It was fortuitous that as a result of this trip we got the chance to see her with Becca in October and then were here for her funeral earlier this year. It has led us to be even closer with Phil's two remaining cousins, Sascha and Thorsten, and Sascha's two young boys ... which brings us to a highlight: attending the confirmation of Sascha's son in April in the most beautiful part of Germany. Out of the bad can always come good.

We've been grateful for the time family and friends took to visit us while we've been here. We would have liked to have hosted more of you, but understand that it's not always possible for you. Know that we consider such times the true highlights of our travels, and you are always welcome to join us on any of our future adventures. It really is the people we meet in life's journey that inspire us.

We added to our base of friends while here: Alan and Caroline in the Cotswolds, Nick and Krissy in Kingsand, Cornwall, and Claire and Dave in Skye. Add to that list the many people we met in shops, pubs, and on walks who stopped to chat with us. The friendliness of strangers is truly one of life's great joys. We all love it when we are on the receiving end of a smile and a few kind words, and we were constantly reminded of the benefit of practising it ourselves whenever possible -- as the blog title says, just keep saying hello.

Of course a special shout out goes to our wonderful friend Lady Jane who starred in many of our stories, and who even provided a few posts herself. Her friendship, humour and joie de vivre are a big reason we love the UK so much and hate to leave.

Phil and I celebrated our 30th wedding anniversary recently and it was wonderful that it occurred during our year away. We couldn't have asked for a better way to celebrate. We've spent almost every hour together over the last year and can honestly say we have never tired of that or run out of things to talk about. We love doing similar things and have a common thirst for discovering what is over that next hill and around that next bend. We have enjoyed keeping this blog (shout out to Ann Luu for continuing to insist we start one), and are grateful for the way it will help us to remember all we have done. It is often the tiniest of moments that we discover to be the most important and memorable, and we have captured so many of them here.

I have the greatest travelling companion through life in my darling Phil, and can't wait to see where we go next.

And over to Phil....

I couldn't have written it any more beautifully than my partner in life, Angela. Her love and laughter inspires me and has made this time away a magical one. It is hard not to hold back the tears, but I would like to finish with two quotes, one very old and one very recent. They sum up this experience and what future adventures Angela and I will share together:

“Every day is a journey, and the journey itself is home.” – Matsuo Basho

“The main thing that you have to remember on this journey is, just be nice to everyone and always smile.” – Ed Sheeran

So just keep saying "Hello"...with a smile.

Angela and Phil

Day 284 - Dowager Day

Lady Jane Tanquery, drink in hand, smiles as she reads the text message from her friend Angela. Lady Jane's calls to her source at British Airways have worked. Ange and Phil will not be leaving for Jersey, but instead will have to stay on the mainland and therefore be free to celebrate the birthday of the Dowager Duchess of Staines-Upon-Thames and Patron of the Surrey Constabulary (Lady Jane's mother).

When you are summoned to attend the birthday of the Dowager, you make haste. We should have known that when we were initially invited. You face the consequences otherwise.

The Dowager lives on a rather modest estate at the end of a close in the town of Staines-Upon-Thames. Staines was first settled when the Roman emperor Claudius invaded Britain in the year 43 AD. In 1215, the barons assembled at Staines before meeting King John at Runnymede, and Sir Thomas More was tried in 1535.

The Dowager Duchess has lived here since the mid-1970s, and despite the many tales about her that we were made privy to during our lunch, has not been chased out by the local townfolk. In fact, given the quality of the people in attendance at today's lunch, it is quite evident she is held in high esteem. However, one may wonder if that has at least a small bit to do with her closeness with the local police force, where she regularly volunteers her time as well as her rather remarkably keen understanding of the underbelly of society and its undertakings.

We also got the opportunity to finally meet Lord Robert of Putney. Lord Robert is currently a coach living in residence at the esteemed Putney Rowing Club and was the coach of the British team at the Rio Olympics. Lord Robert told us of the wonderful time he had in Toronto on a visit there, where he was a guest of The Royal Canadian Military Institute on University Avenue. He regaled us with his many stories, and told us how well he had been treated in Canada. (To my fellow Canadians: Do not worry; I did advise him that as Canadians, we treat all our guests equally well. I think I heard him mutter something like "bloody colonialists"after this, but I can't be certain.)

I am afraid I had to sign a non-disclosure waiver on entry to the soiree, so cannot share any details of what I discovered this day. Suffice it to say, no matter what end of the "class" spectrum we may find ourselves, we're all capable of getting up to fairly similar shenanigans.

On what I have been asked to assure you is a completely unrelated note, watch for future episodes of the much-anticipated BBC sitcom, "Up Yours, Chief Inspector," which is not at all related to the Dowager despite any obvious similarities.

It was an uproarious day, the kind where you almost are sore from laughing so much, and a fitting send-off for our trip. We started this adventure with Lady Jane waiting for us with drinks in hand at Heathrow airport way back in September, and we end it with her dropping us back off there ... and of course, more tears (the jet fumes).

Day 283 - From Dorking to Reigate

What do you do when your flight gets cancelled? You get up, you shake yourself off and you get back out there. Oh, and you google "countryside walks around Gatwick airport."

You are never far from a good country walk in England, even when you're close to an airport. Today's Google-suggested walk would be between Dorking and Reigate. These two towns are located between Gatwick and London, but you'd never know you were so close to all that activity.

Another country path beckons.

We took a short train trip to Dorking, and once out of the station were almost immediately in the calm and quiet countryside. Perfect!

For most of its route, the walk criss-crosses the River Mole, a tributary to the Thames which it enters near Hampton Court Palace (one of Henry VIII's favoured out-of-London escapes). It's name is thought to have come from the many mills along its route at one time, and not the odd-looking ground-digger of these parts. Despite that, a pub we passed is called The Grumpy Mole with the mammal as its symbol.

The village green at Brockham with its memorial pump.

The first village we came to is called Brockham, and a more idyllic village green would be difficult to find. The green was once used for cricket matches (thus its size) and is still noted for the huge bonfires and fireworks displays held on it each year on Guy Fawkes Night.

In the centre of the green is a pump, which is thought to never have pumped water. It is in fact a memorial to a local man named Henry Thomas Hope. Henry was a bank Director and later MP for Gloucester (where we were staying earlier in our trip in the Cotswolds), and was a close friend of the Prime Minister Disraeli, who dedicated a novel to Hope. What is perhaps most fascinating about his story is that he came to own the Hope Diamond. His father purchased it, but his uncle ended up with it. When the uncle died, Henry and his two siblings fought in court for 10 years over its ownership. Ultimately, as the eldest nephew, Henry received it and seven other of the most valuable gems from his uncle's collection.

Through fields of grain.

The lychgate at St. Michael's
Church in Betchworth, a film
location in the movie 'Four
Weddings and a Funeral.'

If you look closely, you can just spot the bride. Phil joked
that they would be wondering who those people were in
the background of all their wedding photos.

The next village on our walk was Betchworth. Another pretty English village it is on the commuter run into London and thus is monied as well as filled with retirees (a combination that seems essential for maintaining the historic beauty of many of these ancient villages). Our walk took us right through the grounds of 13th-century St. Michael's Church. Despite it's rich history, it is probably most famous as being the site of the first wedding in the movie Four Weddings and a Funeral. Particularly famous is its beautiful lychgate. As if on cue, there was a wedding on as we entered (of course), so we had to politely sneak around the back of the church.

Inside The Dolphin Inn. Looks like a good
place to stop for a pint, don't you think?

The excellent walking guide we were following strongly suggested we take a lunch break in Betchworth at The Dolphin Inn. So, being the obedient walkers we are, we did as we were told. Seriously, this was the quintessentially idyllic pub: a maze of small rooms with a fireplace and a central bar, wing-backed chairs, fresh flowers ... and of course a variety of ales on tap for Phil.

Dolphin may seem an odd name for an inland pub, but it is thought that the name comes from the French word, Dauphin, which does mean Dolphin, but was used to refer to the Crown Princes of France. In 1216,, King John reneged on the Magna Carta, and his barons invited France's crown prince, Louis, to be King of England. After being welcomed in London, Louis went to Reigate to take a castle there for his own. He rallied support for his cause as he passed through Dorking and Betchworth. Louis never did get the crown. Henry unexpectedly died, and all the barons changed their loyalties over to John's son, Henry III. But all ended well, as Louis become King Louis VIII of France, although his reign was short.

Well fed and our thirst quenched, we set out again ... albeit admittedly a tad slower.

Just outside of Betchworth are the ruins of Betchworth Castle (which we didn't see), and we walked through the centre of the grounds which are now a rather lovely golf course.

We passed through Rice Bridge with its Grade II-listed farm with Jacobite features, then on to Skimmington, where we had to use all of our willpower to not go into the inviting Skimmington Castle Pub overlooking Reigate Heath.

The view from Reigate Hill.

We climbed a rather steep path to find ourselves on the top of Reigate Hill and the most beautiful views down from what appears to be hogsback-type hill.

This area is now a park, with all the lands being donated for public use. We followed a long straight path with berry bushes on both sides...many ripe and sweet enough to eat...which we did.

Our descent brought us through woods and out into a broad expanse of open playing fields belonging to Reigate Priory. A food festival was on, and we were drawn through the woods by the soulful music being performed by the live band.

The grounds and manor (to the right) of Reigate Priory.

It is believed the priory was founded in the 13th century, and was used as a hospital. After the dissolution of the monasteries, Henry VIII gave it to William Howard, the uncle of Catharine Howard, Henry's fifth wife (the second wife to be beheaded for supposed treason and adultery).

We bypassed the food festival (seriously), and walked into Reigate, stopping in at The Tea House for a cuppa before taking the train back to our hotel.

A truly soul-restorative walk through the country. Something to consider if you find yourself in London and want to escape the crowds and summer heat.

Day 282 - No Jersey

Some of the beaches on Jersey

(With apologies to the great and late Charles Schultz for using this intro)

It was a dark and stormy night, suddenly a door slammed, a maid screamed, an airplane is struck by lightning.......meanwhile at Gatwick Airport two Canadian travellers, having spent the last 11 months travelling around the UK and Europe await the announcement of their departure gate for their flight to Jersey, one of the Channel Islands off the coast of France. But...that airplane from the story? Well, it turns out it is the incoming flight that will refuel at Gatwick and then take us to Jersey. So...we are advised that the plane is not going to continue flying that day and our flight is cancelled. And...the only available space to Jersey is now on Sunday evening, the same evening we were scheduled to return back to London. Weekend away cancelled. Thus, the title of today's episode: "No Jersey."

Mont Orgueil on the east coast of Jersey

Now let's pretend we did get to go. What would we have found out about this U.K. protectorate with it's own financial and legal systems and a Lieutenant Governor who reports to the Queen? Well, it's the largest of the Channel Islands and is located just off the coast of Normandy, France. It's known for it's wonderful beaches, the capital St. Helier, and fine food.

The history as you can imagine is very interesting. There have been inhabitants on the island for thousands of years, and the usual suspects have arrived there and settled and left: the Romans, the Vikings and the Normans. When the Normans conquered England, the island was part of the overall Kingdom of William the Conqueror. Subsequent Kings of England held onto the Norman territory until the French king, Philip II, defeated England's King John in the early 13th century to regain it -- all, that is, except the Channel Islands. So, the English fortified Jersey and it has remained under English rule until today. Oh wait a minute, there was the Second World War during which the Germans occupied Jersey. Ironically, although the islands are so close to the D-Day landing sites, they were not liberated for another 11 months, May 9th, 1945.

That's it folks and sticking with today's "fantasy" of having travelled to Jersey I will pretend that I enjoyed the following ...

Ale of the Day: Liberation Ale, Liberation Brewery, Jersey

 

Day 281 - What's the Deal with Walmer?

The gardens of Walmer Castle

Our time is winding down here in Hythe, and tomorrow we leave for Jersey, one of the Channel Islands between England and France.  So today Angela and I decided to check out some more historical sights here in Kent. It was hot again, but that did not stop us and we decided to use our English Heritage membership to take in two castles, both on the coast and up-channel from Dover. It would require a bus trip back into Folkestone, but at least we could take an air-conditioned train from there to Walmer where our adventure would begin. It's also an interesting train ride because it travels through tunnels to Dover and includes a coastal portion that runs along some of the famous white cliffs that surround it. After Dover, the train travels inland across fields of barley until arriving closer to the coastline at Walmer.

The residence at Walmer

Walmer is a town that lies to north of Dover and just south of Deal. Our plan was to walk the mile from the station to Walmer Castle, which lies right on the coast, and then along the coast to Deal. Walmer Castle was built as part of a plan by Henry VIII to protect a portion of the Kent coast that is not dominated by high chalk cliffs. He felt that this is where the French and the Holy Roman Empire would invade England in response to his creation of the Church of England and rejection of the Papal power of the Catholic Church. Not only was the landscape flat and the beach easily accessible, the offshore portion was protected from major currents and was a popular anchorage (known as the Downs Anchorage) for ships seeking shelter from the storms. So Henry built Walmer and Deal castles.

Big Julie landed hereabouts

Walmer Castle was built over 18 months beginning in the spring of 1539. It has one central round keep in the middle and four semi-circular abutments that allowed for guns to be pointed in all directions over a series of levels. The entire castle was surrounded by a dry moat. Of course, the invasion never happened and it didn't see any action until the English Civil War in the mid-1600s when the Royalists and the Parliamentarians fought over it. That was about the extent of its military use, and it then became the home of the Warden of the Cinque Ports (as referred to in our earlier posts in this blog), which was mostly a ceremonial position. 

Some impressive residents included the Duke of Wellington and William Pitt, the former Prime Minister. The fortification was expanded and renovated to make it more of a residence and today one can take a tour of the place and see the rooms made up in different vintages of its history. Some parts remain closed to the public as the Warden still has a residence in the castle. There is also extensive grounds with gardens, including a vegetable garden used by the castle kitchen and a garden that belonged to the Queen Mother when she was the Warden right up until she died in 2002.

I thought it rained in England all the time?

The heat made the castle's restaurant too warm for lunch inside and the outside tables were not in the shade so we began our walk along a paved coastal path towards Deal. You couldn't tell where the waterline stopped and the horizon began. It was so still, not a breeze or a visible cloud. 

Along this section was where Julius Caesar first landed to invade England in 54 B.C. About 2 kilometres later we arrived at Deal Castle (and an ice cream!). It too is comprised of a central keep, but has a surrounding circular fortification connected by tunnels. Canons could be placed upon it so that it could cover 360 degrees of area. It was built the year after, and like Walmer, the castle was part of the English Civil War struggle, but eventually became a residence, in this case that of the Captain reporting to the Warden. The Captain position was also a ceremonial appointment and remained so until the Captain's residential extension was demolished by a Luftwaffe raid during the Second World War. After the war the location became a tourist attraction and has remained that way to this day.

After our visits to these two locations it became clear as to why Henry demolished the nearby abbeys.  He needed the stone to build these battlements.  In fact, you can still see carved stone from the abbeys in the outer walls of Deal Castle.

Deal Castle

Ale of the Day:  Master Brew, Kentish Ale, Shepherd Neame Brewery, Faversham, Kent

Day 280 - Prosecco picnic

Viennese Whirls...
mmmmm.

Last day to just chill in the cottage -- it was really too hot to do much else. We started the day by grabbing a couple of lattes and then some breakfast bake goods at a small shop called The Independent Baker. If you've been following the blog, you know that we have been trying to support local shops whenever possible, so even the name of this place is perfect. It was started by a young woman in her early 20s who one day just decided to go for what she was passionate about ... baking. Self taught and self motivated ... how fabulous.

We took our breakfast and sat on a bench next to the canal and just absorbed our surroundings.

The rest of the day we spent writing in the relative cool of the cottage. When dinnertime approached we put together a small picnic of food still remaining in the cottage cupboards and fridge, and with an added chilled bottle of prosecco, we made our way to the beach. The haze from the heat was making a view of France an impossibility, but it was a gorgeous evening.

We drank a toast (or two) to about our extraordinary year and the wonderful things that still lie ahead ... and just soaked in every moment together.

Day 279 - Canterbury Tales

"It's that you each, to shorten the long journey,

Shall tell two tales en route to Canterbury,

And, coming homeward, another two,

Stories of things that happened long ago.

Whoever best acquits himself, and tells

The most amusing and instructive tale,

Shall have a dinner, paid by us all,

Here in this roof, and under this roof-tree,

When we come back again from Canterbury."

As said by the Inkeeper and Host to the pilgrims traveling 

to Canterbury in Chaucer's The Canterbury Tales.

I mentioned in a post a few days ago that when we started our adventure last September in Alton, one of the first things we did was walk part of the Pilgram's Way that runs from Winchester to Canterbury. It was originally used by those going to see the shrine of St Thomas Becket. As we near the end of this particular adventure, we find ourselves in Canterbury. Although admittedly this was not a consciously planned route, it does seem fitting. Like the tales told by the travellers in Chaucer's tales, we've enjoyed sharing our own stories along the way.

We have a few days remaining and a few tales left to tell, and we are continuing to make the most of each one.

From Hythe, the number 18 bus takes you through tiny villages of Kent to the bustling City of Canterbury. At its heart lies the mostly walled old town in which lies the famous Canterbury Cathedral.

Costumes for King Ethelbert and
Queen Bertha in the museum of
St. Augustine's Abbey.

But Canterbury as we know it and perhaps even English Christianity would not have existed at all if not for a Benedictine monk from Rome named Augustine. in the year 595, Pope Gregory the Great sent Augustine to Britain to convert King Ethelbert and his Kingdom of Kent from Anglo-Saxon paganism to Christianity. Ethelbert had married Bertha who was the Christian daughter of the King of Paris, so the conversion wasn't too difficult. Augustine set off with 40 monks, but returned to Rome after two months. The Pope basically told him he would be derelict in his duties if he didn't complete the mission and sent Augustine back on his way.

The first parts of 
St. Augustine's made 
use  of red brick from
Roman buildings on 
the site.

Ethelbert's castle was in the walled town of Canterbuy, and in 598 he granted Augustine land just outside of the walls to use to build a monastery and gave him free reign to try to convert his citizens. In 597, Augustine effectively became the first Archbishop of Canterbury, the senior bishop and principle leader of what is today the Church of England.

Several kings and archbishops were buried at St. Augustine's.

The abbey was not only a home for the monks, it was to be the burial place for Kings of Kent, archbishops and other high-ranking members of royalty and the clergy.

The remains of one wall of the former abbey.

Despite its historical significance, most of the abbey was demolished by Henry VIII during the Dissolution of the Monasteries, and stone from it was used in a variety of buildings and forts near and far.

Which brings me to Canterbury Cathedral, a stone's throw away from St. Augustine's, but built on the inside of the town walls. (Before exploring the Cathedral, we stopped for a cup of tea and a sandwich at The Moat tearoom, a Tudor-era building inside the old town. Lovely!)

You can see in this photo the
variety of eras that make up
Canterbury Cathedral.

While the Abbey housed the monks, the cathedral was the church over which Augustine was archbishop. He started work on Canterbury Cathedral at the same time as the monastery, re-using a former Roman Church to begin with. The cathedral was badly damaged in 1011 during raids by the Danes. The Archbishop at the time, Elfheah, was taken hostage and killed at Greenwich, becoming the first of five Canterbury archbishops to be murdered.

After being destroyed by fire in 1067, the Cathedral was completely rebuilt and vastly expanded.

To honour Queen Elizabeth II's
Diamond Julilee, statues of her
and Prince Philip were added to
the western front of the Cathedral
in 2015. 

Thomas Beckett became the second martyred archbishop. Pilgrims began to flock here and the Cathedral grew again to accommodate their numbers. With the Dissolution of the Monasteries, Henry VIII had Beckett's tomb destroyed and all relics associated with him vanished. Canterbury surrendered in March 1539 and was spared destruction, although another abbey that had been built into it was abolished.

We took two tours while visiting the Cathedral. The first explained the life of the monks who had lived there, and the second discussed the murders of the archbishops.

Our heads almost filled to the brim with history, we walked along the River Stour and watch the punters steer their boats down the river amid the gardens. We resisted the urge to jump in despite the heat that has been hitting the UK, and returned to our cottage in Hythe for a well-earned rest.

Day 278 - Lancaster Bomber

Quiet day on the travel front today. Just catching up on articles (Phil) and the blog (Ange).

So, I'll take the time to tell you about yet another interesting "Matrix" moment ... two days ago, while working on my ancestry research on the Walsh side of the family, I discovered that Phil's Dad had worked for A.V. Roe (Avro) while in England during WWII (we knew he had worked for the company while in Canada). I learned that he had been assigned to the drafting department. Here as a young man in his late teens and early 20s he worked on the Avro Lancaster, and in particular on a life raft that could be deployed from the plane if needed. Only 17 Lancasters exist today, and of those only two are still airworthy: one which is located at Mount Hope airport near where we lived in Canada, and the other here in the UK at Coningsby.

While out walking with Lady Jane in Hythe yesterday, the UK-based Lancaster flew over as part of the airshow going on in nearby Folkestone today. We have now seen both airworthy Lancasters in flight.

Coincidence? I think not.

Day 277 - A Jane double bill

Lady Jane Tanqueray, drink in hand, arose to find herself in Kent. She took a deep breath in, sighed loudly, and fought the urge to escape the great unwashed. 

While I am sure we would all have rather enjoyed hearing Lady Jane's first-hand account of our day in Hythe, she has refused citing something about ensuring future deniability. So, I shall endeavour to update our gentle readers and allow future generations to decide whether she was ever really here or not.

Does the sun ever stop shining in Kent? We don't think so.

Following a continental breakfast on the scale of a 5-star B&B, we ventured out to enjoy the sun and attempt to convince Lady Jane that she had Kent all wrong. We walked through Hythe then 2 miles along the seafront to the outskirts of Sandgate. We could sense Lady Jane's defenses falling slowly as she basked in the sun and seaside. That is, at least, until she found herself behind a rather large and boisterous shirtless man whose numerous tattoos and well exposed plumber's bum were in a highly fought battle to be noticed first. Phil and I definitely had our Kent-enthusing work cut out for us.

Nesting cygnets along the Military Canal.

On reaching Sandgate, we turned onto the Military Canal to walk it back to Hythe. The sea almost immediately disappears from view along this path, and so, fortunately, do most of the tattoos. I could sense that Lady Jane felt more at home as she began to compare the environs to those of her beloved Hampshire. It helped that swans were nesting right near the start of this part of the canal, and as swans are all owned by the Queen, Lady Jane felt closer to royalty. She could see herself riding her steeds along the route.

By the time we arrived back into Hythe, she was converted, making plans to bring the Dowager with her for a visit. Will wonders never cease?

We checked out the Hythe Railway, and as if on queue one of the tiny steam trains came chugging into the station as we made our way onto the platform.

A patron of the culinary arts, Lady Jane insisted on buying lunch at the Hythe Food and Drink Festival if only to attempt to prove to me that a sausage roll can be haute cuisine if prepared properly.

Before we knew it, we were saying goodbye to Lady Jane, amid hugs and tears. Lady Jane claimed it was her allergies to poverty acting up. I learned I must have a similar reaction to affluence and nobility. ;-)

As the afternoon began to ebb, our dear friends Jane and the Major joined us for the evening. More bubbly was consumed before we took a walk down to the seaside. As if on queue (seriously, how often has this kind of thing happened on this trip?!) the Red Arrows flew over. The Major thanked us for providing him with the fly-past. The Royal Air Force is celebrating its 100 year anniversary this year, and their aerobatic team has been out in force flying their red Hawk fast-jets in gut-wrenchingly close formation. Even though we were about 5 miles from the centre of the action at Folkestone, I managed to get some interesting photos (see more below).

Airshow over, it was time for dinner, and what better to eat when by the seaside than seafood. Despite the crowds who had gathered for the airshow, we got a table at the Hythe Bay Seafood Restaurant.

Sadly, we had to say goodbye to Jane and the Major after dinner. All these goodbyes are certainly the low point of our wonderful trip. But, we know we will see everyone again soon.

And that is how you confuse the enemy.

Fancy UK crop dusting.

Buzz cut.

Despite how it appears, this is not a watercolour painting.

Everybody dance now!

Oops, thought you said, 'Left."

'Did somebody say, "Time for lunch?"

Day 276 - The Fletcher in the Rye

Phil and Peter make their way up
Mermaid Street in Rye.

As if we really needed another excuse to try new foods, the Hythe Food and Drink Festival is on this weekend. The event brings together purveyors of homemade baked goods, wines and spirits, cheeses, sauces, candies, fruits and an array of cooked foods. Following a walk around the area with Peter and Gail, we ended up at  the festival where we enjoyed watching Peter sample and purchase his way through the stalls, all while trying unsuccessfully to remain incognito to Gail. Lol!

Peter and Gail then offered to drive to Rye for lunch and a visit around the town. The town is about 21 miles (34 km) southeast of Hythe in the county of East Sussex. Originally, like Hythe, it was one of the Cinq Ports and was located on the sea. However, silting and storms caused the area to fill-in and now the sea is 2 miles away. Rye's economy was further weakened as ships became bigger and deeper ports were needed. Subsequently, fishing and smuggling of wool grew in importance.

The original town lies on a rocky height known as the Citadel, where you find a large number of historic buildings spread over cobblestone streets. It is this combination of hillside and historical buildings and roads that  makes Rye rather unique and worth a visit if you are ever in the area or want a day trip out from London. You get a real sense of history meandering up and down the sometimes steep lanes.

The town remained rather rundown well into the 20th century, and you can still feel its history as an area for smugglers and the like despite its much more gentrified makeover of late. Today, most  inhabitants of Rye live outside the Citadel area, with many homes having been converted over to shops, restaurants and other primarily tourist-related businesses.

View of Rye from the church tower.

At the top of the hill is The Parish Church of St. Mary, Rye. When this church was built in the 12th century, the area was held by the Abbey of Fecamp in Normandy. In 1377, Rye was invaded by the French and the church was looted, which included having the church bells taken. Area men went to Normandy the next year where they set fire to two towns and reclaimed much of what was originally stolen from Rye (and probably a tad more).

The church houses what is referred to as the "new" clock; it was installed sometime in the early 1560s, which begs the question: where is the "old" clock. It's pendulum swings within the church itself. Phil, Peter and Gail climbed up the tower to get a view of the town and surrounding countryside while I undertook the more genteel pastime of reading the death memorials on the church walls.

Playwright, John Fletcher.

Just outside of the church is Fletchers House Tearoom, our choice for lunch. It will never cease to hold me in awe when I find myself eating in a building that was built in the 15th century. I always wonder how many people have moved about in these very rooms. John Fletcher, who the house is named after, was born here in 1579. The house is in close proximity to the church most likely because John's father Richard was curate of Rye, later becoming Bishop of Bristol and Worcester, and then Bishop of London. As chaplain to Queen Elizabeth I, he even had the rather gruesome task of attending Mary Queen of Scots at her execution. His son John became a famous playwright, a contemporary of Shakespeare whose fame he rivaled at the time. He even collaborated with Shakespeare on Henry VIII and The Two Noble Kinsmen. And his own play The Woman's Prize or the Tamer Tamed, is said to be a sequel to The Taming of the Shrew. John Fletcher died of the plague while living in London.

Of course, he may not have fared any better in Rye. As a port city with goods and people coming and going on a regular basis, the plague hit here with a vengeance. Deadman's Lane in Rye is believed to be the burial place of local victims of the plague. Later, during the Hundred Years War with France, those killed were also buried here.

I always try not to wonder if anyone died of the plague in the building in which I'm eating.

Peter and Gail set off for home following our lunch, and we look forward to spending time with them again on a future visit to the UK.

Lady Jane Tanqueray was our next guest, and had graciously agreed to have her chauffeur bring her to meet us in Rye. We were surprised to find that Lady Jane had never been to Rye, so gave her a quick tour, before setting off through the countryside and back Hythe in Kent. On crossing the border into Kent, I swear I heard her mumble that she could "smell the poverty," but she claims she was just thinking of her landholdings and had mumbled "sell the property."

Upon return to our cottage, bottles of bubbly were consumed, laughter ensued and we all pored out of the cottage later for a late-night Thai dinner and a town tour in the dark.

Day 275 - Lasting friendships

It's our last full weekend in Hythe, and we have friends coming to visit each day. Today, we welcome Peter and Gail from Hemel Hempstead. I have known Peter since my teaching days at the University of Surrey when we worked together on a research project involving his company and eventually a published case study.

Would you trust these guys?

Using our expertise of Hythe, newly acquired from reading signs and taking a one-hour tour, we provided Peter and Gail with all they will ever need to know and more about this part of Kent. We followed this up with drink and food at the Sunshine Meze, BBQ and Wine Bar, which serves Turkish cuisine.

Much conversation and laughter ensued, and the start of a warm, lasting friendship between the four of us was firmly established!


Ale of the Day: Whitstable Bay Red IPA, Shepherd and Neame Brewery, Faversham, Kent

Day 274 - Hythe town tour

The Hythe town
symbol.

When a local offers to provide a tour of their town, you should be sure to take them up on it. Each Thursday morning at 10:30 during the spring/summer tourist season, a member of the Hythe community provides a tour for the nominal fee of £1. Can't beat that. So we joined a few other people to see if we could discover any further interesting tidbits about the place we're calling home for two weeks.

Boys have been dirtying market squares for centuries
obviously.

Our tour started at the Town Hall which was built in 1794. The ground floor was once an open market, with a carriage entrance at each end. A story goes that a local man sold his wife at this market, and this sale is thought to be behind Thomas Hardys' opening to The Mayor of Casterbridge.

Inside Hythe's Council Chamber.

Exterior of the
town hall.

Council's chambers are on the upper floor. When Hythe was made one of the Cinq ports, it was allowed to set its own laws and collect taxes. a bailiff was effectively head of the town beginning in the 1200s. Subsequently, Queen Elizabeth I decreed that the town should have an elected mayor (choosing the first one herself). Every bailiff and mayor for each and every year since is written on the back wall of the Council Chamber.

Stained glass window
in Canterbury Cathedral's
Chapter House depicting
Thomas Becket.

On the tour, we discovered that the town has links to the murder of Thomas Becket. Becket was the Archbishop of nearby Canterbury from 1162 to 1170 when he was murdered. Becket had been the closest friend of Henry II, when Henry appointed him as Archbishop. Henry saw this appointment as a way to disrupt the power held by the rich bishops and abbots of the Church. While the Church swore loyalty to the king, they insisted that their true allegiance was to God and  the Pope in Rome. Henry stated that the church was subject to the law of the land. On becoming Archbishop, Becket surprised Henry by insisting that the Church was above that law and should retain power over its own.

Stained glass window
from Canterbury Cathedral
depicting Becket's murder.

At a Great Council meeting held at Northampton Castle in 1164, Becket's loyalty to the king was question and he was denounced as a traitor. Becket fled to France. While there, Becket excommunicated three bishops who supported Henry. In 1170, the Pope threatened to excommunicate Henry, so Henry allowed Becket to return to England. Upon his return, Becket refused to overturn the excommunication of the bishops. Enraged, Henry is said to have shouted, "Will no one rid me of this troublesome priest?" A few of those listening are thought this to have meant that the king wanted Becket dead.

St. Leonard's Church in Hythe.

Four knights sailed to England from France, allegedly arriving at Hythe at the seaside in front of what is now the Town Hall. They are thought to have gone up the pathway to St. Leonard's Church, where they stopped for the evening before heading on to Canterbury. They reached Canterbury Cathedral the next day, on December 29, where they found Becket before the High Altar. Accounts of what followed vary, but it is thought the knights demanded that Becket restore the bishops and pass legal power over the clergy to the king. When Becket refused, they murdered him violently. It is said that Henry was horrified when he heard the news and in penitence he donned sackcloth and ashes, and starved himself for three days. However, he did not arrest the knights, instead encouraging them to flee to Scotland.

Miracles were said to almost immediately begin happening that were attributed to Becket, and he was canonized in 1173. Pilgrimages began to Canterbury Cathedral, with many of those from the European continent coming ashore at Hythe.

As an aside, it's interesting that we started this trip in Alton by walking along part of The Pilgram's Way that went from Winchester to Canterbury, and now as we near the end of our adventure, we unintentionally find ourselves at this end of the pilgrimage.

But back to our tour, which took in the Military Canal and environs before ending at the bottom of Three Posts Lane, on which we have our cottage. We wanted to explore the church on our own, but it was closed for the next couple of hours, so we took a rest until mid-afternoon when it re-opened. St. Leonard's has been here for almost a thousand years, and along with its cemetery seems to cling to the hillside. The church contains some beautiful stained glass windows, including the one here dedicated to a 19-year old man who died on the Somme in 1916. I have to admit, the peaceful expression on the young man's face brought tears to my eyes.

St Leonard's is most famous for its ossuary, or bone house. The church is home to the largest and best-preserved collection of ancient human bones and skulls in Britain (there is one other ossuary in the UK). The more than 1,000 skulls are arranged on shelves in a crypt, while thigh bones and other skulls have been arranged neatly in a large stack. The crypt is below the chancel and is unique in that it is accessible by large external doors at either end of the long passage. Theories as to why the ossuary exists vary, although one suggests they were bones removed from the graveyard when an section was added to the church. Another theory suggests they were removed to make way for new graves. The bones date from the 13th century onward. Several small displays in cabinets show skulls and leg bones showing signs of various diseases and accidents.

Entrance door to the ossuary at St. Leonard's in Hythe.
You can make out some of the skulls through the door's window.

Sadly, on the previous Sunday, someone broke into the ossuary and carried off 21 skulls all from one spot in the back corner of the room.