Seeds bear fruit.

The seeds of where I wanted to spend my sabbatical were planted several years ago with an article that appeared about an organization called the British Pilgrimage Trust (BPT). I referred to them in an early blog post about the Coronation Pilgrimage in which I participated shortly after arriving in England. The initial interest came with an article that described their work in ferreting out a pilgrimage route that is now called “The Old Way” - a 240-mile journey from Southampton to Canterbury.

Unlike the Camino de Santiago de Compostela in Spain, this pilgrimage path was almost forgotten – but the BPT rediscovered it on what is thought to be Britain’s oldest road map (the Gough Map, ca.1360), which reveals an intriguing red line running from Southampton to Canterbury.

The west gate

This path may not have been exclusively used by pilgrims, but the waypoints are known to include large religious houses that formed a network of hospitality that pilgrims used. It also connects the harbors and ports along the South coast of England, where many European pilgrims would have disembarked before joining the most convenient and direct route to the shrine of Thomas Becket, the martyred Archbishop of Canterbury. Many of these waypoints have a long history of pilgrimage as destinations themselves. Also, along the way, there are many lost shrines, healing wells, and much pilgrim graffiti that hints at the journeys known to have been made back and forth along this path over the centuries.

Of course, several years intervened that included a pandemic. I have grown older, and the 240-mile trek seemed more and more formidable than something I felt I could undertake. Quite frankly, the costs associated with the pilgrimage also grew exponentially and the entire idea became a pipe dream. But the seeds had been planted. I ended up in England on sabbatical with an entirely different vision of what I would do on sabbatical, but the frame of the vision would still be one of pilgrimage – a journey of discovery – and as it happens – a journey that would conclude, in its spiritual dimensions, in Canterbury.

On Saturday, I arrived in this special place probably just as weary as if I had made the trek on The Old Way – or so it seemed. Loaded with a backpack of belongings that sustained me for the last two months, I trekked up the cobbled streets toward the center of the city, toward that destination which has attracted pilgrims for centuries.

Christ Gate (at left) with the Cathedral Tower
just showing to the right

Soon the ancient city gate appeared, but there was more to go. I really began to feel what those ancient pilgrims must have felt – anticipation but a sense that this might never end. My GPS (something they wouldn’t have had to aid them!) kept urging onward until I realized I made a wrong turn and had to retrace my steps! Finally, there it was, Christ Gate – the entrance to the Cathedral precincts was in view.

What I hadn’t realized was that the lodgings I had booked were actually within the precincts of the cathedral itself! I would be spending my time here on the grounds of the Cathedral with access the general public did not have! And all quite by accident! Or was it?