A Wanderer's Tale

It occurs to me that I never really wrote about what we did Monday at Canterbury – just about the travel and our arrival, and not all that much of that.

We arrived in London early on Sunday morning. Our flight was due to land at 10:30, and we were there and ready to land by 10:00. So we had to circle because we were early and they had to make room for us in the schedule. Then we taxied for a while, and waited while they found a gate for us. Then we parked at the gate, and waited while they found a driver to attach the gate.

And then we walked. And walked. And walked. Had to stop to wait for crossing traffic. And walked some more. And then stood in a long, snaking queue for customs. You know you’re in trouble when there’s a sign in the customs line like the ones at Disneyland rides: “Your wait from this point is…”.

We rehearsed a little bit, Sunday night before dinner and after hearing Evensong. We were too tired to do much, but we at least cleared out some of the cobwebs.

Monday morning, it was time to get to work. We headed over to the Cathedral after breakfast, to begin rehearsal by drilling the processions. Most church choirs at least have some basic clues as to how this is done, and it’s a matter of adapting to the Cathedral’s protocol. Schola is not a church choir. We do “move into place” and we do occasionally wander around the hall, but it would be dramatically overstating the case to say we ever “process” anywhere. Until now.

This was somewhat complicated by the fact that we were not using both sides of the choir. Ordinarily, the two halves of the choir face one another across the center of the quire; there’s room for about 18 per side. We had twenty singers, total, so dividing really wasn’t an option.

We rehearsed the processing and the bowing for an hour. A solid hour. It wasn’t nearly as warm there as here, but we were all wringing wet by the time we were done – and we still weren’t just sure exactly what we were doing, although we were starting to get it.

After rehearsal, we had a walking tour of the Cathedral, led by one of the many friendly guides who work there. We wandered through the crypt and through the chapels and up through the space where Becket’s shrine once was (it was demolished in 1536, one of the earliest casualties of Henry VIII’s depredations). Toward the end of the tour, I got separated from folks, and ended up heading out on my own to find cash; a face cloth (something we’d been told to bring because they’re not supplied, but I forgot); and lunch. I accomplished all three, and headed back (as I supposed) to the Lodge to eat and get dressed for Evensong.

Except I turned toward what I thought was Christ Church Gate, but was in fact the West Gate. I figured out pretty quickly that I’d gone wrong, once I realized I was out where there was real traffic, but it took a while to get sorted and get back. So instead of a leisurely lunch, I wolfed down my sandwich while getting dressed in concert black, then headed out again.

For all our worries, the first Evensong went very well. We sang well, we didn’t completely disgrace ourselves in the processions, and everyone seemed quite pleased. We changed back into street clothes afterward, found a quick dinner and then headed over to St. Paul’s for rehearsal. This pattern –Matins, breakfast, rehearsal, a break for lunch and perhaps a nap, warm-up and Evensong, dinner, and rehearsal – was pretty much the rhythm of the week for me.

So there's the wandering tale of the first day, out of place and all.