Beneath the glow of the streetlights of Blackheath, a little after midnight, our pilgrimage began. Alongside a mutual friend of ours who kindly acted as our navigator, Fr Christian de Lisle (the parish priest of Sunbury-on-Thames) and I began to walk.
There was something surreal about setting off while the city slept. The roads were empty. Shops were shuttered, save for the odd 24-hour petrol station – what would Chaucer have made of that? The usual noise of south-east London had been replaced by an unexpected stillness. Canterbury lay 50 miles ahead of us, along a route following much of the ancient Pilgrims’ Way, on foot, enjoying what remained of the cool of the night.
