Canterbury Cathedral

the nave

The city itself was much like any other city: lots of people, pretty shops, a park and ride which the kids loved - the front of a double decker bus is a lot of fun at any time of life but particularly when you are four I guess.
The streets leading toward the cathedral were cobbled and the buildings were close together and timbered black on white plaster. Others were red brick or flint dressed - there were very few examples of the horrifically utilitarian government architecture that is so apparent in South Wales. The air smelled of coffee because of the massive Starbucks that was in the Mercer Square. It was a place to sit and absorb the history, the millions of people over the years. I was fairly twanging with it as we walked through the huge, carved doors of the cathedral gates.

Let me explain myself here. I love Chaucer, even though I haven't read much - that is down to laziness on my part. I love the sense of history. I love the stories that surround this place "Who will rid me of this turbulent priest?" The terrible murder in a holy place, the humbling of a king by the might of Rome. It is rich stuff for me and seven hundred years or so peel back easily in my imagination.

We walked into the courtyard and saw the carvings on the huge walls, Anselm, Benedict, Francis. The huge doors, the sheer size of the building. We went in and I could not speak. I will utterly fail to convey to you how awesome this place is. The sweeping arches, the thunderous columns upholding the structure. The stained glass,the lace-like stone, the acoustics, the centuries of song, praise and worship that the stones have soaked up. The artistry and devotion that generations of craftsmen have poured into the place. We saw the funeral garments of the Black Prince, the premiere warrior of his day, unbeatable in the field. And of course we saw the spot where Thomas Becket was martyred. Not a huge fan of St Thomas I have to say, he was a political animal after all and it was a political murder, but what gets me is the pilgrimage site, the feet of the faithful, the penitent, the thankful and the supplicant. The stories...the stories. I wished I could hear them all.

I eventually managed to pull myself together and wandered into the quire, a church within a church. The feeling of inner space was incredible. Compared to the nave you see, the quire is almost intimate but in reality it is still a huge space. The sound amplification is astonishing. Lily called for me and Mama went reverberating effortlessly round the arches.

I wish I could explain the effect that the cathedral had on me rather better than I have. V watched me tear up as we stood awed in the nave. The children were also rather puzzled and I could not explain why. A lifetime's desire to be here, the presence of beauty, the silent breath of history in the fabric around us. I loved it there, really I did.