The guide
Rochester
Kent, England
Rochester Castle's 12th-century keep and the cathedral, seen across the city.
Getting there
London St Pancras → Rochester — about 36 minutes direct on the high-speed line — roughly every 30 minutes at weekends, and Sunday services start a little later than on weekdays, so check the first train if you want an early start. A slower direct route also runs from London Victoria (around 50 minutes, roughly twice hourly).
Famous for
Dickens's city. Rochester is where Charles Dickens lived his happiest years at Gad's Hill nearby, and the High Street barely seems to know the century has changed — bookshops, tea rooms and ancient inns line a street that walked straight out of his novels. Beside it stand the great Norman monuments: the 12th-century castle keep, one of the tallest in England, and the cathedral, England's second-oldest, founded in AD 604.
The High Street — barely changed since Dickens walked it.
Where to eat
Sunday roasts and steaks are a Rochester strong suit.
- Brettingtons — premier steak-and-lobster house on the High Street; book ahead for weekends.
- Amore — the locals' favourite Italian, warm room on the High Street.
- Fish At 55 — seafood and sushi done properly, mid-way along the High Street.
- Tiny Tim's of Rochester — Dickensian tea rooms; proper cakes in a tiny old building.
What to do
The cathedral, England's second-oldest.
The keep over the River Medway.
- Rochester Castle — climb the great 12th-century keep for the Medway panorama; open Sundays 10–4.
- Rochester Cathedral — founded AD 604, free entry; Sundays 12–4, after the morning service.
- The High Street walk — Dickens House Wine Emporium's old apothecary cellar, bookshops and tea rooms.
- Six Poor Travellers House — the charity house behind Dickens's Christmas story; free, open March–October Tue–Sat 2–5.
- Guildhall Museum — the Making of Mr Dickens gallery and the Prison Hulk Experience; free, Tue–Sat 10–5.
- Huguenot Museum — Britain's only museum of the Huguenot refugees; Tue–Sat 11–4.
- The Esplanade — a riverside stroll for swans and oystercatchers at low tide, castle behind you.
Jess's favourite
The Fenn Bell Conservation Project, out in St Mary Hoo
A small rescue zoo with lemurs, meerkats, squirrel monkeys, raccoons and owls, every animal rehomed from rescues or other zoos. Open Wed–Sun 10:30–5. A short taxi ride from the town centre, and the zookeeper in Jess gives it full marks.
Good to know: On Sundays the castle and cathedral are open but the museums are not — do the castle, the cathedral (from 12) and the river walk on Sunday, and save the Guildhall, Huguenot Museum and Six Poor Travellers House for a Saturday. No major engineering works found on the high-speed line for the coming weekend, but always check before you travel.
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. 12
Rochester: Castles, Cathedrals and a Cat Called Nothing
Rochester, Kent
The Javelin does St Pancras to Rochester in thirty-six minutes, which is less time than it takes me to muck out the tapir pen on a slow morning. I was through the castle gate before my flask of tea had even cooled.
I had the usual kit: cheese sandwich, notebook with Barnaby's latest dictation (a hedgehog, a honey pot, a mix-up involving a very small spoon — I will tell you when it's finished), and a plan that said, optimistically, "castle first, everything else later."
The arrival
Rochester station, and the first thing I noticed was the quiet. No gibbons shouting at nothing. No penguins arguing about fish portions. Just the Medway sliding past and a Norman keep standing there like it had been waiting all week specifically for me, which, after the meerkats, was honestly a refreshing level of being ignored.
The walk
The castle keep is one of the tallest in England, and climbing it was exactly as sensible as it sounds. My knees filed a formal complaint on the second landing and a full protest by the top, but the view of the river paid them off in full. Then, of course, I took one wrong turn — my mandatory one — and ended up in the Vines instead of the cathedral, wandering a garden that used to be the monks' vineyard. It was nicer than wherever I'd been heading. The rule holds: the wrong turn is usually the right one.
The cathedral doesn't open till midday on Sundays, so I did the Esplanade walk along the river first and counted the swans. One of them was having a tremendous argument with its own reflection and refusing to concede. I felt seen, professionally.
The High Street is basically Dickens set down in brick — bookshops, tea rooms, a wine emporium with a cellar older than some countries. I stood outside the Six Poor Travellers House and thought about six poor travellers getting a bed, a meal, entertainment and fourpence for the road, which is roughly fourpence more than the tapirs give me.
The café
Then, on the High Street: Deaf Cat Coffee. Named after Charles Dickens's own deaf cat, who used to sit on his desk while he wrote. There are no actual cats on the premises — just the memory of one very determined deaf cat, a wall of teapots, and a view of the cathedral. As the junior zookeeper, I respect a cat that had a job.
Lunch
Brettingtons, on the High Street — steakhouse, candlelight, the works. I had the roast and ate it like someone who mucks out enclosures for a living, which is to say: thoroughly and without shame. Jess's pick, and I stand by it completely.
Home
Back in London by early evening. Tired, slightly windswept, notebook smelling faintly of roast potatoes. And next time I'm not missing the Fenn Bell Conservation Project out in St Mary Hoo — a rescue zoo with lemurs, meerkats and squirrel monkeys, open Wednesdays to Sundays. I will absolutely be the person who reads every enclosure sign out loud. Happy.
Story seed
The swan did it. All that fierce dignity on the surface while the feet go like mad underneath. I'm writing a scene where Clarence tries to look calm crossing the stream on a stepping stone while his legs paddle furiously below — and Pinafor, watching from the bank, gently points out that everyone can see the splashing, and that it's all right to admit when something is hard.
Barnaby's text“Lost in thirty-six minutes and you found your own way back. Every good keeper gets lost, Jess — the skill is noticing your landmarks on the way out. You did. Well done.”
— Jess
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