The fiery portals of the east (and the west midlands)

This royal throne of kings, this scepter'd isle,
This earth of majesty, this seat of Mars,
This other Eden, demi-paradise,
This fortress built by Nature for herself
Against infection and the hand of war,
This happy breed of men, this little world,
This precious stone set in the silver sea,
Which serves it in the office of a wall,
Or as a moat defensive to a house,
Against the envy of less happier lands,
This blessed plot, this earth, this realm, this England

What better way to mark a return my return to England, after almost three years away, than with John of Gaunt's monologue from Shakespeare's Richard II. Settling back in to life on the top end of the world has its ups and downs, but England has undeniable gravitas.

I was fortunate enough to see a brilliant production of Richard II at the Tobacco Factory last weekend. It was the first time I had seen Shakespeare at the Tobacco Factory in action and they were so good. I think when you see a good Shakespeare production, you understand it completely even if you don't fully understand all the language. This was one of those.

John of Gaunt's son was Henry IV of England. Richard II's father was Edward Plantagenet, the Black Prince. The tombs of both lie in the crypt of Canterbury Cathedral, and I visited them a few weeks ago. Well, primarily I was visiting my sister, but Henry and Edward were almost as exciting. Bec was doing a concert with her Chamber Choir in the cathedral crypt, but we spent the day visiting firstly the Museum of Canterbury, then the Cathedral.

Canterbury is a lovely city, very small and neat and old and historic. We learnt its history in the museum, right through from its beginnings and Roman occupation, to the building of the Cathedral, Thomas Becket, Christopher Marlowe, Bagpuss, Clangers and Rupert the Bear (as a long-term collector of Rupert annuals, my dad was EXCITED).



Clangers are knitted bodies on a meccano skeleton! The museum is really good and at little over 3 quid quite a bargain.



Through the gate to the Cathedral. The Cathedral is huge, monumental and magnificent.



Inside there is so much atmosphere and history - a small flame marks the site where the tomb of Thomas Becket stood (destroyed by order of Henry VIII). Around this lie the aforementioned tombs of Henry IV and the Black Prince. We spent a good long time inside, gallivanting around. It was cold though, but I imagine the heating bills must be pretty high.



Bec's concert was really good, and well attended. The following day, we left her behind and journeyed up to Wolverhampton so Père could attend the football at Molineux and we could visit uncle Alan and auntie Jenny. We had a nice quiet Saturday evening in with them, then on Sunday morning went to the Beacon Hotel to drink the best beer in the world (if you are my dad), Sarah Hughes Ruby Mild (brewed at the pub). I am actually also a big fan of Ruby Mild, it is TASTY.



I love this picture of Père and uncle Alan as it shows what a serious business drinking Sarah Hughes Ruby Mild is. I also love the Beacon, as it is a perfectly preserved victorian pub. It's like a museum pub.