The fifth day in Canterbury.

The fifth day in Canterbury.

Getting train tickets at Canterbury West, swapping trousers in the laundry, a stroll down Westgate gardens and all the way down to the Norman Castle, following the town wall and back to the College. The last get-together with the students. Final reflections on staying in Canterbury.
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This morning started with a discovery I could have done without: the laundryman had handed me someone else's pants. It took a while to have the matter sorted out and I headed for the train station to print out my Canterbury-to-Gatwick ticket.

As I had three more hours on my hands before the meeting with students at the College, I went down to Westgate gardens, walking past the trees whose names I will hardly remember except for one, the Scottish Pine. Cannot help it, been always soft when it comes to Scotland. And Wales.

The Oriental plane in Westgate garden

Deep in the park, a monument in the memory of the fallen at landing in Italy on July 10th, 1943 is located.

A moving inscription on the monument runs: 

"When you walk through peaceful lanes so green,

Remember us and think what might have been." 

Birds singing in Westgate park

part of the ancient road, known as Watling Street, built by Romans and stretched from Dubris (present-day Dover) to Deva (present-day Chester), passes through Canterbury 

The Norman Castle in the southern part of the town dominates the roundabout and still looks impressive even though there is only a frame of bearing walls left. It is closed for visiting due to falling masonry.

On my way to the College, I was caught in the rain and had to endure through the whole of it. After all,  coming to Britain and not getting drenched  would sound unbelievable so I chose to live up to everybody's expectations.

Part of the city wall, view from the bridge leading to Canterbury East station

Early in the afternoon, the lesson with the students was held. The French colleagues came to observe it, too. To begin with, the students took turns in introducing themselves. Then, they shared their experience and observations with us. Compared to last Sunday, everybody looked and sounded more confident. Later on, they were asked to complete the questionnaire form which was pretty much about the same what they had verbalized a few minutes before. This being done, Silmara gave her feedback to each student and that was it. Next class will last longer.

Silmara giving her feedback to the students

Looking back and reflecting on my experience of what it was like to stay in England for these fabulous six days, I have to admit, the emotions are yet to melt into a solid piece of judgement. It did enrich me as a person, though.

What images of Canterbury were imprinted on my mind ?
Perfect timing. English breakfasts. Welcoming people never tired of saying "I am sorry". Helpful strangers. The smell of burnt charcoal, the feel of warmth, safety and comfort when you sit inside and muse to the quaint mixture of downpour pelting on the windows, never-ending top-chart tunes, reverberating chatter and rolling laughter in the background. Pedestrians in tights and gumshoes crossing streets wherever they fancy. The weather capable of changing a few times within an hour. Owls (!) boo-whooing across the street at daytime. Waking up to the bells of Canterbury Cathedral. Swarms of uniformed teenagers hurriedly roaming the streets at dawn. Supportive teachers with that motherly touch when they would sit down to a student's desk as if they were part of his inner circle. Trains coming and going when they fancy. No steering wheel where it should be. Hospitality. Open-mindedness. Desire to embrace the world.