After a little more than a week in London, we picked up our car and drove through many, many ex-urban areas of Greater London to finally pick up a motorway. I can handle just about any type of traffic situation with relative ease. Exceptions to this would be:
1. driving on long, high bridges with no solid walls between my car and the water below (the Brooklyn Bridge);
2. clinging desperately to the side of a cliff on a one-car wide road, when faced with an oncoming truck who's driver is totally used to these roads (the mountains of Provence);
3. driving in England.
So, driving on the left-hand side of the street, in a strange car, sitting in what to me should be the passenger's seat, managing a 6-speed manual transmission and all of this on roads that are precisely two-car-widths wide, plus about 3 inches, and usually no shoulder. Did I mention that in England, cars park in both directions on each side of the street, and that they park half on the sidewalk and half in the street?
Alright, so now we have a barely two-car-wide road, which is (due to ancient boundary lines) winding with blind curves and hedgerows, with cars parked half on/half off on both sides, when alas, what's coming in our direction but a garbage truck -- or a bus or an 18-wheeler. Gee gosh, but this is fun.
The English are completely comfortable with these conditions, apparently, because they don't even blink as they zoom past.
Even though I'm getting better, I still instinctively tap the brakes when a car feels too close. I still have the side mirrors in tact and have only put minor hedgerow scratches on the passenger side as I try to scootch over to avoid the presumed smash up.
Many of the roads that connect one village to another are just one car wide and they run for a mile or two like that. Naturally, there will be traffic in both directions, so one or both of the parties must give way, or one has to back up to the nearest "lay by".
Today, I saw what looked like the impossible: a garbage truck and a bus trying to get past each other on a road built for wagons. They made it and each went on its own way. Nerve wracking, this English driving. France is easier. I can't read the signs in French, but at least I can drive on the proper side of the road.
Here's a travel tip that I have figured out along the way: if you are going to drive into a city, Sunday is the day to do it. The parking lots are not full, traffic is at a minimum and it's easy in/easy out (sort of). With this idea in mind, we went to Canterbury on Sunday.
Our cottage host suggested a park and ride into the city because parking is severely restricted in the city, and many streets are pedestrian only. One problem with this: the car park is open only in the morning and cars are then locked in until the next morning when it opens again for commuters. Luckily for us, someone in the car park explained this to us and we simply continued a couple of miles to the city itself and parked in a very accessible car park there.
As a city, Canterbury is more like a town. It has an upscale, walkable, city center with lots of shops and places to eat of various price levels. It's typically quaint. Like a lot of old English towns, it almost seems like it was built as a fantasy town, but of course, this is actually the way it really is and has been for a few centuries.
This building is listing badly and in just a few more centuries will probably collapse. For the time being, the owner has made amendments to take into consideration the reclining nature of the structure.
I can only imagine the pitch of the floor!
Canterbury Cathedral is the seat of the Church of England, with the archbishop being the equivalent of the pope. To reflect this importance, the cathedral is suitably big and fancy.
It has the requisite tombs of medieval lords and fallen heroes, some under the floor and some in elaborate stone sarcophagi. It has more little chapels along the sides of the church than one can imagine. It has an above-ground crypt (that's strange!). It has glorious stained glass windows.
But, to my mind, what it doesn't have is the grandeur of Westminster. Or, maybe I'm partial to Westminster because Darwin is buried there.
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