Trying to write a few words about Canterbury Cathedral is akin to trying to sum up a Mozart opera with a few bars on the piano. It is impossible. So therefore perhaps one can aim to say a few words about a visit to Canterbury Cathedral, because that is personal, and a few words will suffice. Continue reading
I returned to Sandling, having read more about the Junction, the plans for the Channel Tunnel of years ago, the building and the closure of the railway. It is a good starting point for a walk. Leave the station with all its tedious traits of the twenty first century, ticket machines and endless announcements, corporate branding and expensive fares. There are deep undercurrents of class conflicts all across the railways, between the workers and the managers, between the passengers and the companies, between those who build the rolling stock and maintain the track and those who make decisions about rates of pay and working conditions. But none of this must surface, none of this murmuring can be allowed to be heard.
I leave the train at Sandling station. It seems curiously quiet and still. I have passed this station hundreds of times and never noticed it. Now I have the opportunity to admire it’s Tudor-Beathan architecture and the rather pleasant surroundings.
The forecast is for a breezy, sun filled, blue sky day with a temperature of about 10 degrees. Why is this almost perfect? Because the breeze will scud up the waves of the Channel, it’s been grey lately and a blue sky with a hint of sun will be welcome. And the temperature for a long walk is not too cold and not too hot.
St Martin’s church is discovered which looks as if the tower – almost Italian Renaissance in a strange sort of way – might be made of concrete. I hope it is as it can be a versatile and interesting building material.