Canterbury.

The pandemic is gathering speed.

Waiting for the train from London to Canterbury and they announce that it's running late as a passenger was taken ill. Coronavirus? I try not to touch anything and constantly disinfect, my mask firmly in place. My hotel is a lovely old mansion outside of the city, we pass the old walls, Medieval built on Roman.

The hotel is lovely but the room is minuscule and has no Wifi. Off I go to ask if I can be moved and they do, I end up with a larger room with a bath as well of Wifi.

I walk into the centre, it's all Tudor. I find an old pub built in 1500 on the canal and have mushrooms with stilton cheese and wine. I'm a bit depressed after Cambridge, having watched the young and the beautiful with their lovers and whole lives in front of them talking of philosophy and their studies. I am beyond that stage of my life and it's bittersweet.

Canterbury is very different, the girls overly made up, already drunk in the afternoon, hanging around with tattooed and overly pierced boys; homeless people in the doorways and the famous Canterbury cathedral is under repair so I can't go in.

I walk till I'm exhausted and have an early dinner at a faux French place that was in Cambridge as well, Rouge Cafe. The meal is good but I'm still unsettled. The couple next to me having dinner with another couple are both blind and are navigating their world with laughter and I'm here with most bits intact and I'm vaguely miserable.

Walk home backdropped by a beautiful sunset, having bought myself a Lush bomb in order to enjoy my bath. That night a friend from the US says that Italy is going into lockdown for two weeks. Everything will be shut except for necessities. I can't believe it. The daughter is supposed to be starting to study in Heidelberg soon. What will happen in Germany?

I have walked every inch of the centre of Canterbury so decide to take a bus to Sandwich, the most comprehensive Medieval town in England. It's Sunday. Everything is closed. Find a cafe open for a coffee and then go into the Town Hall and am welcomed by a guy who says with evident delight: "A customer!" and tells me about the history of this very quiet but perfect Medieval town.

It used to be the second largest port outside of London and 800 houses were built here for the fleet and merchant ships and then in the 1600's the channel silted up. Queen Elizabeth 1 visited and said she'd open it but never did and so the houses became empty and the Huguenots (who were Calvinists and persecuted in France) came over and established a Flemish colony here. In early days it was a Roman settlement as it was the port gateway to France, Europe and the Netherlands.

I don't stay long, I'm a restless soul. Head back home with a haul of Easter eggs, Marmite cashews and eat at the hotel that night, a surprisingly delicious stuffed eggplant dish. Back to London tomorrow to see my favourite singer, my male muse - Bryan Ferry in his home country!