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Welcome to the “Georgia Wasp…”
This blog is modeled on the Carolina Israelite. That was an old-time newspaper – more like a personal newsletter – written and published by Harry Golden. Back in the 1950s, people called Harry a “voice of sanity amid the braying of jackals.” (For his work on the Israelite.)
That’s now my goal as well. To be a “voice of sanity amid the braying of jackals.”
For more on the blog-name connection, see the notes below.
In the meantime:
February 28, 2026 – In the last post we three hikers left Campbells Crib, Maidstone, last August of 2025. Our next stop – after hiking 12 miles on Sunday, August 24 – would be The Dog & Bear, Lenham. (Built in 1602, The D&B – visited by Queen Anne in 1704 – is a popular pub: “With exposed beams and open fires, the historic bar offers a selection of beverages and real ales.” Also, “cozy log fires, a courtyard terrace and cooked breakfasts.”) That would leave only three more days and 26.5 miles to Canterbury Cathedral and the end of our pilgrimage.
After hiking just over four miles that Sunday morning we stopped for a stamp at St Mary the Virgin Church, Thurnham. Then came a lunchtime disappointment: The Dirty Habit, a famous 11th-century pub in Hollingbourne, was closed that day for restoration. (Actually it was destroyed by fire in 2022 and won’t reopen until 2016, which I didn’t know that at the time.)
But as I wrote later, “On a pilgrimage you persevere. And eventually find redemption. (In the form of the Dog and Bear. ‘Thank you, Jesus!’)” Which is being interpreted: That evening I had a pint (or maybe two) at the D&B, to celebrate finishing that day’s 12-mile hike to Lenham. “Three more days to Canterbury, and a week from today I fly back home. Hard to believe.”
And while we figured that after Sunday we’d have 26.5 miles left to Canterbury, Google Maps said it was only 18 miles. But I learned earlier on the hike – like on the one from Clackett Lane – that sometimes Google Map’s walking-ways can lead to a “series of near-death experiences, in the form of cars zipping by at high speeds with little or no room on the side of the road.”
We did manage to stop for coffee and a light snack at The Black Horse Inn, Thurnham, near St Mary the Virgin’s church in Thurnham. But we didn’t get anything heavy because we anticipated that nice lunch at the Dirty Habit. (Which alas, was not to be.) From there we had another four-plus miles of hiking to the Dog and Bear, mostly through mile after mile of fields of close-cropped, wheat-stubble grass. (And once again, to remind the reader: I was carrying a 20-pound backpack. Thus the “Thank you Jesus” for the refreshing pint (or two) at day’s end.)
On Monday, August 25, we hiked 11 miles to the Conningbrook Hotel, Ashford. Which meant hiking more mile after mile of fields of close-cropped, wheat-stubble grass. And somewhere heading close to Charing we got a bit lost, on a trail but not sure it was the Trail. Then a balding guy in khaki shorts and dark green t-shirt came by and ended up helping us find our way to St Peter & St Paul’s Church, Charing. It turned out he was a Canon at Canterbury Cathedral, right where we were headed. (A Canon is “responsible for administering a cathedral or certain other churches that are styled collegiate churches.”) But he had some alarming news. (To me anyway.)
According to him, five pubs were closing each week in the UK. Which led to me swearing to do my best to try and “hold back the tide,” like King Canute. (Hopefully with better results.)
On Tuesday, August 26, we hiked 8.5 miles to The Woolpack Inn, Chilham. (Though Google Maps has it as a 7.7-mile hike.) In the morning, we hiked up Canterbury Road, a busy highway with not much room on the shoulder for pedestrians. Heavy and high hedges kept us hemmed in. “Busy road, slow progress – and a lot of prayer. We had to get up to Boughton Lees to get back on the Trail.” That’s what I wrote, but we actually got back on the Trail at Kemp’s Corner, a mile east.
From there we hiked another mile to visit All Saints’ Church, Boughton Aluph. (I have a note in my Pilgrim’s Guide saying we got there at 10:39 a.m. on Tuesday.) Later we passed Chilham Castle, on the way into Chilham. (And our next-to-last day on the Trail.) But I enjoyed the town of Chilham so much I figure it’s worth a lot more detail in the next post. In the meantime, if you visit England this year or next join me and King Canute in “holding back the tide.”
The tide of pub closings that is, and maybe even bring The Dirty Habit back to life.
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The upper image is courtesy of Pubs Uk Closing Five Per Week Image – Image Results. As noted below, the range varies.
Re: Dirty Habit. See Dirty Habit reopening next year | Walking The Pilgrims’ Way, and Plans to reopen The Dirty Habit pub in Hollingbourne.
On pub closings see UK Pubs Face Crisis: 8 Close Weekly Amid Rising Costs, The ‘heartbreaking’ number of UK pubs closing every week, and more recently, Every pub closed so far in 2026, with the headline, “Four pubs a day closing under high-tax Labour.”
From the King Canute link: “His achievements all but forgotten, Canute is now mainly known for a single misinterpreted story.” That is, while the tale is often used as an example of an arrogant king, it “actually celebrates Canute’s good sense and Christian piety.” He was trying to show his pandering minions that he was just a man with limited power. “The story is intended to illustrate his piety… He knows his power is nothing besides that of God.” Or see King Cnut and the tide – Wikipedia:
In the story, Cnut demonstrates to his flattering courtiers that he has no control over the elements (the incoming tide), explaining that secular power is vain compared to the supreme power of God. The episode is frequently alluded to in contexts where the futility of “trying to stop the tide” of an inexorable event is pointed out, but usually misrepresenting Cnut as believing he had supernatural powers, when [in fact it] relates the opposite.
The lower image is courtesy of The Dirty Habit Hollingbourne Kent Restoration – Image Results
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Re: The Israelite. Harry Golden grew up in the Jewish ghetto of New York City, but eventually moved to Charlotte, North Carolina. Thus the “Carolina Israelite.” I on the other hand am a “classic 74-year-old “WASP” – White Anglo-Saxon Protestant – and live in north Georgia. Thus the “Georgia Wasp.”
Anyway, in North Carolina Harry wrote and published the “israelite” from the 1940s through the 1960s. He was a “cigar-smoking, bourbon-loving raconteur.” (He told good stories.) That also means if he was around today, the “Israelite would be done as a blog.” But what made Harry special was his positive outlook on life. As he got older but didn’t turn sour, like many do today. He still got a kick out of life. For more on the blog-name connection, see “Wasp” and/or The blog.
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