The guide
Canterbury
Kent, England
Canterbury Cathedral — the mother church of the Anglican Communion.
Getting there
London St Pancras → Canterbury West — about 55 minutes on the high-speed line, roughly every 30 minutes. Slower but cheaper routes run from Victoria and London Bridge (around 1h 30m).
Famous for
England's medieval pilgrimage capital. The Cathedral, St Augustine's Abbey and St Martin's Church together form a UNESCO World Heritage Site — the cradle of English Christianity. Chaucer's Canterbury Tales begins on the road here, and the murder of Thomas Becket in the cathedral in 1170 made it one of Christendom's great shrines.
Where to eat
- The Corner House — the local favourite; modern British cooking in a pretty courtyard.
- El Sol — Spanish tapas beside the 15th-century Sun Hotel on Sun Street. Jess's pick — genuinely awesome.
- Il Posticino — small, excellent Italian tucked into the old town.
- The Goods Shed — farmers' market with an on-site restaurant; ideal for lunch.
What to do
- Canterbury Cathedral — allow 2 to 3 hours, book ahead, don't miss the crypt.
- Punting on the River Stour — glide through the old town, weather permitting.
- St Augustine's Abbey ruins — atmospheric; a combo ticket covers it.
- City walls & Westgate Gardens — a lovely free walk.
- The Canterbury Tales — Chaucer's stories brought to life.
- The King's Mile — independent shops along the old high street.
- The Beaney House of Art & Knowledge — free, right in the centre.
Punting on the River Stour.
Jess's favourite
Canterbury Tails Cat Café
Mercery Lane — 31 rescue cats, plant-based cakes and hot chocolate, and you can book an hour of cuddles. Jess's top pick in Canterbury.
Good to know: on Sundays the cathedral opens later (around 12:30) — spend the morning on the walls, gardens and a punt, and book cathedral tickets online in advance.
Jess plans her trips the week before, but trains have a mind of their own. Routes, times and fares in these guides were checked at the time of writing — engineering works, timetable changes and last-minute alterations can still happen. Please check your journey before you travel (National Rail Enquiries or the Trainline app) — and if a replacement bus sneaks in, we hope the day makes up for it.
Read Jess's diary of the day ↓
Jess's Day Off · Diary No. 1
Canterbury: Cathedrals, Tapas, and 31 Cats
Canterbury, Kent
I woke up at 5:30am. Old habits. Even on my day off, the meerkats are in my head, standing to attention and demanding breakfast.
I caught the fast train from St Pancras — 55 minutes, barely time to finish my flask of tea. I had a cheese sandwich, a notebook with three pages of Barnaby's latest dictation (a squirrel, a conker, a misunderstanding — I'll tell you when it's finished), and no plan beyond “cathedral city, see what happens.”
The arrival
Canterbury West station, and the first thing I noticed was the quiet. No lion roars. No parrot opinions. Just church bells and somebody's bicycle bell, and streets that look like they've been photoshopped by history.
The walk
The cathedral doesn't open till lunchtime on Sundays, so I did the sensible thing and walked the old city walls instead. Then I took one wrong turn — my mandatory one — and ended up in Dane John Gardens, which was nicer than wherever I'd been heading. That's the rule of day trips: the wrong turn is usually the right one.
Down by the River Stour I watched the punts go by and tried to count the little black waterbirds darting between the reeds — moorhens, dozens of them, bobbing about like tiny ducks in mourning suits. One gave me a look that said I pay no rent and fear no one, which is exactly the energy I aspire to.
The café
Then, on Mercery Lane: Canterbury Tails. A cat café. Thirty-one rescue cats, plant-based cake, hot chocolate, and an hour of pure purring chaos. One small tabby fell asleep on my notebook, directly on top of Barnaby's conker story. I have decided this is an editorial improvement.
Lunch
El Sol, on Sun Street, tucked beside the Sun Hotel — a building old enough to remember actual pilgrims. Spanish tapas, eaten slowly, in the sunshine. Jess's pick, and I stand by it completely.
Home
Back in London by early evening. Tired, a bit sunburnt, notebook smelling faintly of churros. Happy.
Story seed
The moorhens did it. All that darting across the reeds on those ridiculous long toes. I'm writing a scene where Pinafor tries to walk on water like a moorhen and sinks straight to her knees — and Clarence gently explains that the moorhen has special feet for the job, and that having the right feet matters more than hurrying.
Barnaby's text“Thirty-one rescue cats and every one of them chose to sit near you. Trust like that isn't luck, Jess — it's the work. You're learning the language of animals, one purr at a time.”
— Jess
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