Day 20
April 16

Today, I get married for the sixth time, yet I still have butterflies in my stomach. Where will I live, what will I do henceforth, I do not care. I immediately went to the local bridal shop and bought a lovely, laced gown, at my fiancé’s expense. Our pilgrim friends attended to our wedding. The knight was his best man and the prioress was my maid of honor. The friar wed us in the cathedral. Ideas are already spinning in my head---arrangements for my estate, moving into his mansion, and starting my proper expenditures of his wealth. He is lucky to have a wife as good as myself.

Day 19
April 15

Today everyone rode in anticipation for the last 2 miles. The sight of Canterbury ahead gave us all great relief. We entered the city and came to the cathedral. We all dismounted our horses and beheld in front of us, the magnificent shrine of St. Thomas a Becket, the scene that we have all been so patiently trying to reach over these past many days. Our footsteps echoed as we entered the cathedral, and not a breath was heard from us. The Parson knelt and blessed himself, truly divinely inspired by the shrine. I looked at the Franklin. This may not be the Taj Mahal, but it will do for a wedding. Caught up in the beauty of it all, he grasped my hand and knelt before me, and asked if I would be his bride. Graciously, with all my ambitious heart, I accepted.

Day 18
April 14

I have been riding alongside the Franklin. My heart soars as he continuously expresses interest in me. Normally I would flirt and tease at his advancements, but the thought of his wealth is too great to delay procuring. The sooner I win his heart, the sooner I become once again, a distinguished woman of stature. He will enormously benefit from my already large estate and experiences as a wife. Perhaps I have revealed my intentions too obviously, for he does look amused every now and then. He is handsome, but he is old. He has no reason to reject me.

Day 17
April 13 morning

I ate breakfast with Franklin this morning. I hadn’t had a chance to talk with him since the pilgrimage began and I found this rather satisfying. He is quite a gentleman. He told me of his lavish parties and fine foods, and for a moment I wished I were at one of his parties with wine and duck instead of at this cruddy local tavern eating slop. The rest of the pilgrims announced time to departure, and as I left on my horse, my thoughts wandered to the Franklin’s riches and I began to feel giddy again. A man with such good fortune and wealth should have a wife that appreciates and appropriately displays her husband’s stature.

Day 16
April 12

After much duration, we have finally exited the woods. Soon we came to a small town, which we all eagerly decided to stay in for the night. I quickly separated myself from the miller and the reeve, both of whom are scoundrels and I will never associate with them again. I browsed the local market and found there many delightful shops. I bought a nice replacement for my ruined stockings, a hair comb, and a new headscarf. While I was there I heard other ladies gossiping in their lively ways. This afternoon of leisure has made me a bit homesick.

Day 15
Evening
April 11

The miller became impatient and snapped at me. Nobody knows where we are! The Reeve however, stayed riding beside me and hinted suggestively that maybe we’d be better off taking our own path. After all, the knight is proving to be a poor guide as we move on. The Reeve told me that a possible way out of the woods would be to cross the stream. I tried to convince the parson and the plowman to come with us, only they were too sheepish and loyal to the knight to want to abandon the group. The miller turned around and overheard the Reeve and I talking with the plowman and the parson, and completely lost his temper and accused me of jeopardizing the group’s safety. He then--I shall never forgive this--forced me to ride next him as an assurance that I will not rebel and cause havoc among the pilgrims, like I am a child! The reeve denied any part in our little “conspiracy”. I cannot wait for this pilgrimage to be over!

Day 15
April 11th

We have been traveling through the forest for hours now. I swear we have passed this same downed tree at least three times. I cannot let these people see me lose my cool. I have an image to keep up. I rode up beside the Yeoman to ask him how much longer we are going to be traveling in the woods. He looked at me with a nervous expression and said “Not much further, just over this next hill.” I said okay and rode off to the Miller and the Reeve. I knew the Yeoman was lying and it was getting dark soon so I needed someone that I could count on to get us out of here.

Day 15
April 11

We buried the horse, had our breakfast, and went on our way. The Franklin, the Knight, the Squire, and the Miller, after much discussion, confirmed that we all should take a detour through the forest instead of along the meadow which we had originally chose as our path. This would set us back two days, the knight said, but the forest floor is not as flooded as the meadow. Not wanting to risk more injuries, the rest of us agreed to take the forest route. After a few hours, it was apparent to the Yeoman that we were lost. I am getting frustrated. This is what happens when men do not ask for directions.

Evening
Day 14
April 10

A bit of sun has shone through the clouds, giving us temporary relief. The rain has subsided for the most part, but our traveling paths are all ruined. The knight has tried diligently to guide us all on the safest roads possible, but in vain; the young lad cleric’s horse became stuck in the thick mud, and in attempt to free itself, it broke its poor leg. Unable to carry on the burden of a half-starved, crippled horse, we had nothing else to do but to kill the poor animal. As sorry as I do feel for the poor boy, I did not offer my horse. He will have to ride with the miller if he wants to continue our pilgrimage.

Morning
Day 14
April 10

I awoke to a completely black sky. We can hear thunder in the distance and it spooks the horses. We quickly packed up camp and set on our way, only to be drenched in within five minutes. The ground is muddy and the horses and all my effects are completely soaked. The red dye in my stockings has completely run onto my bag and I am infuriated, but nothing can be done. The pilgrims and I complain and talk about setting up camp. The knight agrees, but he knows of no village within the next five miles. Meanwhile, we are becoming flooded.

Evening at campsite
Day 13
April 9

We have already seen so much although it is only the end of the first day since we have left Southwark. The rolling hills are green and the air is clean and crisp with the slight sent of the spring flowers. We traveled through the greater London area, passing farms and cottages along the river. The knight was ahead of the rest, leading us eastward, with the sunset to our back. As dusk has approached, we have set up camp. As we do so, we are troubled because there seems to be a storm brewing, as dark clouds surface along the sky.

Day 13
April 9

Today we continued our journey for our dear St. Thomas à Becket. As much as I enjoyed the stay at the Tabard, I was growing tired of lollygagging and I am happy to be on my way. I’ve been in southern England several times during my girlhood and it brings back many fond memories. The other pilgrims were happy to leave too I could tell; the squire was laughing and galloping on his horse ahead of our group and shouting to his father. I was pleased just to be riding again. The nun told me this was her first pilgrimage. I was shocked, her being a holy member. I myself have been nearly everywhere and have seen many things. Well don’t worry, I told her, I’ll show you the sites. It’s really too bad she’s a nun…

Day 12
April 8

Tomorrow we will depart form the Tabard and make our way to the Shine of St. Thomas à Becket. In honor of our pilgrimage, the host of the inn decided to throw a feast from all of the pilgrims in our party. It seem we have quite a crowd traveling to the shine, thirty in all. During this jolly feast the host made a suggestion that we all tell stories to pass the time on your traps to the shine. We each decided to tell two stories on the way and two on the way back. With our unique group, I’m sure there will be some very entertaining tales. I particularly want to hear the rich Franklin’s tale.

The evening before departure from Tabard Inn
Day 12
April 8

Today I made merry with the other pilgrims as celebrating the day before our journey ahead. I tried to invoke conversation in the Cleric again, but still he proved to be too dull to even keep his nose out of his books. The Summoner became drunk and started raving in his Latin, and I made a note to steer clear of this grotesquely looking and smelling man. The Franklin and I chatted for a great deal. He is a very handsome and charming man. I will remember him; he told me of his fine house and parties. After I am absolved, I might want to visit him.

At the Tabard Inn
Day 12
April 7

I ran into a man in our party. He is an Oxford Cleric and is a bit of a nerd. His looked like a wimp and wasn’t much more than skin and bones. His horse wasn’t much better, and you know what they say, “You can tell all about a man from his horse.” He seemed really dense, and was only interested in his books. I tried flirting with him just for kicks, but I don’t think he even noticed me. He made me so mad, it took all my strength to keep from throwing his books in the fire.

At the Tabard Inn
Day 12
April 7

This morning I had my first conversation with the Knight and his son the Squire. The Knight was a perfect gentleman and appeared to be a well-traveled man. However, he was rather boring and wore the plainest of clothing. His son, on the other hand, was a very handsome and passionate young man. It turns out these two are also going to the same shine as the Nun and myself. After speaking again with the Nun, we have all decided to form a traveling party. I am looking forward to traveling with a group of interesting people on my journey. It well be far more enjoyable then my journey here alone.

At the Tabard Inn
Day 11
April 6

While sitting down for a meal I came into conversation with a rather large women of particularly good taste. Although she is a nun and will never know the pleasures of a man as I have, I found her to be a classy lady. During our talk we realized that we were both on a pilgrimage to the holy shrine of St. Thomas a Becket. She then informed me that she has discovered a number of the men and women that I saw upon my arrival are also on the same pilgrimage. I am eager to meet these fellow pilgrims.

Tabard Inn
Morning of Day 11
April 6

I awoke feeling refreshed. After I finished stowing the rest of my affects away, I promptly decided to survey the Inn. The Host, a very kind and warmhearted man, appeared in the foyer and called the other visitors to breakfast. There were a number of people from many different lands. I took my seat at the more distinguished looking side of the dinning room. The host then placed our meals before us. This would be my first real fine meal since I left my home—fine breads and figs, and many merry conversations. The woman next to me invoked conversation.

Me and My Favorite Hat

Click on my picture to view my favorite website to buy hats from.

Arriving at the Tabard Inn
Day 10
April 5

I have finally reached the Tabard Inn exhausted. As I enter the crude inn, I notice it was full of odd characters from all over England. There were clergy members, nobles, a knight, and some men who looked like uncivilized cave men. I hurried over the counter to ask for a room. One of the men, I believe he said his name was the Miller, offered to help carry my bags up to my room. I was a little uneasy at first but I didn’t want to carry those heavy things up myself. The man put my bags down by my bed and I thanked him kindly as a closed the door behind him. I decided to unpack a few things before washing up and going to bed for some much needed rest.