Canterbury Tales, Portsmouth Sails, and a good warm Bath

What is the definition of a city in the UK? Got it? Stumped? A city is a populated area which has within its boundaries a Cathedral. Maybe this is only surprising to me, but you to have a tiny little town such as Wells in the South West, which is technically a city with a population of just over 10,000 is baffling.


It feels like ages since I have last written, but it has only been six days. I left busy London on Wednesday morning for the quiet City (realistically a town) of Canterbury. A city best known for its Cathedral, “Tales”, and a long history of being a drive through on the way to the continent, I can confidently say now that it is all of the above. Arriving by bus (and a stinky one at that) I fumbled my way to my hostel, Kipps Independent Hostel, which once rated best in the UK. It was an excellent stay, especially for the bargain price of £14.50 per night. My one mistake however, was choosing bottom bunk. I now feel all the sympathy in the world for submariners, I hit my head both mornings as I got up, and have the bruise to show for it. I would certainly recommend it to anyone however! After dumping my bag I went for a stroll through town, delighted to find the streets full of carts, students returning from school, and the ubiquitous tourists taking it all in. I took a tour of the town on the River Stour, with the entertaining George. At around £7 it was certainly worth it, the lower
perspective gives you a new view and if you can block out the tourists, and George’s well rehearsed jokes, you almost feel like you are in the 15^th century traveling the River Stour in a row boat. Approaching 4:30PM, I went on a quest for food, discovering the pasty. Apparently I have been oblivious to these because since I noticed a little shop in Canterbury, I have seen them everywhere, or maybe they just aren’t big in London. With a Chicken and Mushroom pasty warming my back from my backpack, I wandered back to my hostel, but was stopped by the delicious sights of pastries in a shop window. Contemplating the health of my arteries, I spotted the most delicious looking apple turnover ever, and £1.20 later, I was in sugar heaven. A flaky pastry around apple slices covered in cinnamon all covered with powdered sugar, now THAT is what an apple turnover should be! Take THAT Timmies. If you ever find yourself in Canterbury, just walk the High Street, and follow your nose from there. Content, I realized it was almost 5 and the tourists and bustling crowds had completely disappeared. I also realized I should get out of the street before the truck ran me over. Turns out (and it’s not just Canterbury, all the small “cities” and large towns are the same) that these pedestrianized areas shut down around 5, and the trucks rule the road, packing up stalls, stocking stores, and trying to hit as many tourists as possible. Luckily I made it to the hostel in one piece.


The next day I planned a trip to Dover to take in the sights of the coast. Local transport runs every half hour the whole way to Dover (around 30 minutes) and for only around £5.50 round trip. Being the first large castle I have seen this trip, the Castle of Dover is a spectacular sight, although I think no matter how many castles I see, it will remain one of my favourites. Situated at the top of the white cliffs, it is land which has been built on since the beginning of the 1^st century AD by the Romans, and commands a spectacular view of the surroundings. The first building of which there is evidence, a Roman pharos (lighthouse) still remains in reasonably good shape, although the top portion was reconstructed. The castle saw more development in the 12^th century, and serious fortifications in the 18^th century with King Henry VIII (that’s right, the big one). Continually operating as a stronghold throughout the centuries, it was fortified against Napoleon as Dover was the most likely place an invasion fleet would come ashore, in such close proximity to France. A long network of tunnels was dug underground, a place for a garrison to live take shelter. In the 20^th century, it was used to spot ships crossing the channel in WWI, and saw expansion in WWII as invasion of Britain seemed likely from the start of the war. More tunnels were built, facilities were modernized, and a whole town’s worth of people slept, ate, and worked underground. From here, both the Dunkirk evacuation of Allied soldiers, and Operation Neptune (the naval half of the D-Day landings) were planned and coordinated by Admiral Ramsay and his staff. The steep £14.50 admission, like the Tower of London, was worth it. Included is access to the whole castle, a guided tour of the underground tunnels (known as the “Secret WWII Tunnels”, though they are not just WWII, and were probably never a complete secret), and free access to a “road train” which can take you around the castle, especially for those with limited mobility. I could have spent my whole day there, and pretty much ended up doing just that. For more commentary on the Castle of Dover, check out my photos online, but I will just say here that the castle is MORE than worth it, a definite recommendation from me.


Aside from the castle, Dover is a pretty little town on the seaside, but with little else to see (that I was made aware of at least). The cliffs are stunning, but seeing them can be difficult whilst standing on top of them. I recommend the view from the Castle of Dover, as it juts out a little to look down the coast.


Returning to the hostel, a bunch of people went out on a hostel funded excursion to the pub. Unfortunately the hostel doesn’t fund free beer, but they will pay for the pool table (where I learned the odd rules to Irish pool), and all the music you wish from the juke box. It was a good night of friend-making, but unfortunately it lead to a slightly later morning the next day.


Friday I had a trip to Portsmouth booked, with a connection in London. Getting up too late, I had to catch the bus that came 50 minutes later, meaning my hour in London to get from Victoria station to Waterloo station turned into 10 minutes. Fortunately the bus got there early, I run quickly, and I made the train. Sort of... The train I was supposed to catch left early (I don’t know why, it doesn’t make sense, but it did), so I caught a train 5 minutes after. I subsequently got in trouble with the ticket checker for being on the wrong train, but I think he left me alone after he realized (with some smug self satisfaction) that the “wrong” train took an hour longer to get to Portsmouth. Oh well.


Once in Portsmouth, I got off a stop too early, and landed myself in the middle of the city rather than the waterfront (where all the touristy things are), and was somewhat lost without a map. Luckily, being a port city, I simply had to follow my nose to the harbour. It quickly became apparent that Halifax and Portsmouth are very similar cities. Both cities have large harbours, large naval forces in garrison, a long maritime history, and history as a defensive position for the whole nation. Portsmouth’s main attraction these days is Spinnaker Tower which is over 100 meters tall and purely for sightseeing. With three levels of viewing decks, it offers great views of the city, although I’m not so sure it was worth the £6.20 to catch the lift to the top. Unfortunately, there is no stairs option, so I paid the fare, and felt sort of…meh…once up to the top. I later learned it was part of the UK’s Millennium project, including other such projects as the London Eye, the Millennium Wheel in Scotland, and the Millennium pedestrian bridge of London. And like most of the other Millennium projects, it ran late, over budget, and was met with mediocre enthusiasm from the local population (Spinnaker Tower ran extremely late, completed in 2004 and at almost twice the original budget). After wandering around the waterfront, admiring the new flashy buildings of Gunwarf Quay, I met my host for my stay in Portsmouth, Oliver. Oliver was working in the office of an MLA, but finished the day I arrived. He was more than happy to share his local knowledge with me, and suggested that if I had my fill of the touristy downtown already, he could show me other areas nearby the next day.


Oliver lives outside of Portsmouth, in a town called Havant (pronounced haven’t). On Saturday we journeyed by train even further from the City to and through many areas which I frankly cannot remember all of the names. We walked a good distance through farmland on walking paths, seeing everything from coast, to rolling hills, to castles and cathedrals. We stopped for ale and my first steak and ale pie at a real country pub along the way. I took few pictures that day, and don’t have much to say either, as it was really a day for me to take in the whole “country” aspect of Britain. Oliver was an excellent tour guide, with information on all the sights and plenty of local perspective (this CouchSurfing thing is really working out!).
Saying goodbye to Oliver and Portsmouth, I was on the train to Bath. I planned to stay with relatives on the outskirts of Bath, Pearl and Bill Kelly. Intent on arriving at a reasonable hour, I skipped my usual afternoon of sightseeing and headed directly to the town of Radstock, where they picked me up and took me to the lightly populated outskirts. A little older than my usual hosts, they are unable to go on long walking journeys, or spend long days on the town, but instantly made me feel at home in their pretty house in the country. Following typical grandmotherly tradition, Pearl made sure I was good and filled, with a home cooked meal and plenty of sweets. I met more family, Pearl and Bill’s son Roger, his wife Sandra, and nine year old daughter Jodie. It was great meeting family abroad, an opportunity I wish I had more often.


Monday was a day purely for sightseeing. Up at the crack of dawn (6:30AM) to catch a ride into town with Sandra, I arrived before anything was open in town. I took the chance to get a feel for the city, and was wowed by the city’s Georgian architecture. My first stop was to the Roman Baths in the center of town. The original baths were buried after the Romans left, and built over top of, most of the original structures destroyed in the process. But after much excavation, the original pools remain, with rebuilt walls and statues for effect. The admission includes a free audio guide which allows you to see the area on your own time. The baths are one of those must see sights in a town. Although I was tempted to feel the hot water springing fourth from the earth, signs caution against it, warning that the water is untreated and unsafe to drink or even touch. Given the colour of the water, I wasn’t about to test my luck (see my photos for more info on that). From the Roman Baths, I went on a free tour of the major historical sites with the Mayor’s Honourary Guides. My group was lead by a surprisingly spry man who must have been in his 80’s, content to lead the group from the front and frequently insisting everyone walk faster. Full of historical information on Bath, with interesting and quirky facts spread throughout, the tour provided a good overview of the 2000 years of recorded history in Bath. Looking for another perspective of the city, I went on the CityTours bus for the first time on my trip. The ubiquitous double-decker busses run every 15 minutes, and go further afield in the City, with either a live guide or an audio guide providing commentary for the sights you are passing. It was nice to see the sights without having to stand as I had for the previous 3 hours, and these tours are available in almost every city in Europe. On the recommendation of a friend, I next went for some food at an Indian restaurant across the street from Bath Abbey. Jamuna puts on a daily lunch special, £6.95 for a 3 course meal, an absolute bargain in a country where a beer costs £3 on average. Serving a curry freshly made daily, the food was delicious, plentiful, and well worth it. It seems an obvious choice for food, but situated on the 2^nd floor, and relatively hidden, there were few customers when I entered. It proved to be a must go for anyone who enjoys Indian food. After a relatively unexciting afternoon, all of my relatives and I went out for a lovely pub dinner, preceded by a beautiful drive through the countryside in quest of a pub which opened before 7PM.


Bath is a beautiful city where a sense of closeness to everything is lent from its small size and long history. I could have spent more time there, but for the sake of seeing more of what’s out there, I am moving on. Tuesday is a travel day, taking me to Cardiff, my first and only stop in Wales. I am spending two whole days there, partially to take in the Welsh history and culture, and partly to get over a now developing head cold. Wish me luck, and I will keep the photos and blogs coming.