Brugge Blog from Britain

 St Augustine's Abbey ruins

Lovely to see Canterbury again; I used to go for coffee and shopping twice a month when I lived in Wye and always enjoyed it. I am more sensitised to city gates since living in Brugge so that I nodded appreciatively to the Westgate, England’s largest city gate still standing, as I passed by. Canterbury has its own UNESCO designation covering the wonderful Cathedral, the atmospheric remains of St Augustine’s Abbey and St Martin’s. The Cathedral with its exceptional early stained glass and memorial

 6th Century St Martin's Church

to Thomas Becket, the Archbishop murdered there in 1170,  boasts Bell Harry Tower which has dominated the city for hundreds of years and is a notable landmark for miles. St Augustine's, founded by St. Augustine in 597 A.D. was a centre of learning and spirituality for almost a thousand years until the unfortunate intervention of Henry V11in 1538 with the Dissolution of the Monasteries, while St Martin's, the first church built in England and in continuous use since the 6th century, stands nearby. A truly exceptional and historical trio in this World Heritage Site.
 



Not entirely beautiful outside, but a great
addition to Canterbury life. 

Memory lane took me to Caffe Nero and for a quick peep at the Marlowe Theatre nearby, scene of many a past theatrical evening out. I happened to pass the Chaucer Bookshop which I love and from where I once bought an old [and expensive!]map of Kent for in a special present plus one or two from the delicious array of second-hand and antiquarian books. It is a real bookshop for book-lovers. I just had a couple of sunny hours in the centre of the city and located the recommended but new-to-me Curzon cinema, tucked away in a side street and now open for two years. It has the flavour of a cinema club with a cafe and it is adventurous and delightful. I really savoured the mid-town atmosphere with more students than I have ever seen there before. Canterbury felt young and thriving and I was inspired to pop into Cath Kidston’s to buy a handbag in the sale. I shall remember that delightful afternoon every time I behold its rich blue, spotted solid shape.

Wye on the following four days was even more beautiful than I had remembered and just as friendly and welcoming as expected. It was a real delight to be back and even my Monday evening talk to the Arts Association went down well in spite of sauna-like temperatures. Almost best of all was the lunch

 Wye, 1934 vintage

for wimmin born in 1934 of whom there were eight of us identified when I lived there. One of us was indisposed but the remaining seven had a most relaxed and amusing time lazing the afternoon away in a lovely garden, with timeless views of the golden village cricket field beyond.

And during that Wye weekend, it was back to the Stour Festival, an annual feast of' Early Music in All Saints Church, Boughton Aluph, about two miles outside the village. Mark Deller, son of the fabled counter tenor Alfred, runs it still though it was launched by his father in 1962. There are five concerts each weekend over the last two weekends in June and the setting is idyllic. Marquees for food and drink , rural Kentish landscape and Baroque music in a beautiful old church; what more could one ask? The Festival is a whole world somehow caught in a social aspic; one sees the same people, in certain fashions; courtesy and bonhomie abound; friendships are renewed; wonderful music is shared and savoured and even if it rains, the sun always shines somehow.

All Saints, Boughton Aluph, before
the annual Baroque Festival.

The first half of my ten away-days took me to Nottinghamshire, to my sister’s farm, and little outings with my sister in her wheelchair; the very best was a visit to the lane where we had grown up, only about seven miles from her present residence of nearly sixty years. The tiny house, number 14, was identified and miraculously the wood adjacent to our house where we had played with our gang at being ‘bombed out’ in WW2, and where we had climbed so many trees over seventy years ago, was unbelievably, still there! It is now part of a small country park and ‘our’ part remains. We wandered in the sun, delighted to be back, with memories re-kindled and brains sharpened. A great idea from my sister’s younger son re-kindled some of the best experiences of our childhoods, accessing a veritable store house of submerged memories.

 My sister, forgetting she has Alzheimer's,
and I on a lovely sunny outing to les temps perdus.