Canterbury & Dover

The word "Canterbury" usually evokes Geoffrey Chaucer's Canterbury Tales, a book many of us were forced to read in high school or college English class. However, Canterbury also refers to a Cathedral not too far from London, the place where Thomas Beckett, the archbishop of Canterbury, was murdered and martyred. Since the 12th Century, it has been a place of great pilgrimage and worship.

After a late night (Thanks to a Shakespeare performance in Avon-Stratford) and a very early start the next morning (poor planning! poor planning! What what who said that?), we would embark on our own 2 1/2 hour pilgrimage to the Cathedral via the coach bus. Before I continue, I must launch into a short diatribe on the coach bus. It is probably the most poorly designed bus ever. The seats feel like cardboard with a thin layer of material placed over them, the leg room (for anyone over 5'5") is incredibly cramped, so your knees keep hitting the seat in front of you....the bus driver also loves to blast cold air for some reason, and no matter how many seat positions I've tried (about 38), it's impossible to get comfortable. Miraculously though, I was able to take a short nap on the bus.

When we finally arrived at the Cathedral, we received individual audio tours and a chance to wander around this medieval site. The Cathedral itself was an excellent example of Gothic architecture, with its pointed arches and vaulted ceilings (oh Prof. Raguin would be proud), but my favorite part of the Cathedral was the actual place where Thomas Becket died. On the floor was a simple plaque that said "Thomas" in red letters, and above it was a sculpture with a cross in the center and two long swords pointed downward on either side. It was a sinister sculpture, but with the light and the shadows, it almost looked like the crucifixion, even though it stood for the four swords that pierced Becket. I know my description does not do it justice, but when I upload my photos from yesterday it will make sense!!


After Canterbury and a fast-paced lunch at a tea room to catch the bus, we headed out on the road to the short journey to Dover Castle and the Cliffs of Dover. As soon as our bus pulled up to the Cliffs of Dover, I leapt up from my seat to take some pictures and to absorb the sheer beauty of the cliffs. Jutting out from land, the white cliffs stretched high above the English Channel, interwoven with moss and lush greenery. At the very top stood the majestic Dover Castle.

At the Castle itself, we were able to do a tour of the Secret Wartime Tunnels (WWII). In May 1940 these tunnels provided the nerve centre for Vice Admiral Ramsay to plan The Secret Wartime Tunnels Operation Dynamo – the evacuation of British and allied troops from the Dunkirk beaches of northern France. Inside the tunnel, we were able to view the places were the 700 personnel (both civilians and military people) lived and communicated. There was no air within the tunnels, and the only window was in the bathroom. Shifts were 12 hours long, so workers would come to work in the dark and leave in the dark.

We even got to stand in the very spot in the Command Centre where Sir Winston Churchill viewed the Battle of Britain!!! History unravelled in that moment of time, and I realized the importance of this very place in the War history. Yet, I was also struck by how obsolete it had become. For example, the machine room was lined with various devices, light bulbs, and communication systems....machines that seemed to stretch far down the tunnel. Our tour guide informed us: "All the machines in this room actually contain the power of a single laptop." It was amazing to realize how far "we" (human civilization) had come in terms of technology and other inventions. I was also struck by the fragility of it all--in one moment, you are there, taking part in the war effort, and in the next moment, the very spot you stood had become a museum, a place where other generations could view part of your past.

After exploring the castle and the surrounding areas, we trekked to reach the area by the English Channel, were our coach bus was promptly waiting to pick us up at 5:30. Since we had about a half an hour to kill, what better way to spend it than dipping our feet into the English Channel? The beach of the English Channel was as Matthew Arnold described in his poem "Dover Poem"---full of "shingles," a term for the rocky, pebbly area leading up to the water. That's right, there was no soft, feet friendly sand, only various sizes and shapes of craggy rocks. They were rough and grainy against my soles, but the struggle was worth the chilly dip into the waters of the English Channel.

The cliffs of Dover and Dover Castle have been, without a doubt, my favorite trip thus far. The historical site, the gorgeous, natural scenery, and the water are all almost etheral, and also written about in famous song, "The White Cliffs of Dover."

There'll be bluebirds over
The white cliffs of Dover,
Tomorrow
Just you wait and see.
There'll be joy and laughter
And peace ever after
Tomorrow
When the world is free.

A song of optimism and hope, and also, of the beauty of Dover. If you get a chance, go here--it's well worth the journey!

So what's ahead for Lisa? Tonight, dinner at Cambridge and then hopefully Karaoke. And tomorrow, catching up with readings and researching!

Cheers!