You haven't misread the title of this blog - last night I joined 599 other highly privileged souls and sat down to a very special dinner in the nave of Canterbury Cathedral - the first time in 600 years that this 900-year-old House of God has been used for a banquet. "And probably the last," the Very Reverend Robert Willis, the Dean of Canterbury Cathedral, reminded us, as if we needed to feel any more in awe of our extraordinary good fortune.
I was there as the guest of Amanda Cottrell who, in typical fashion, hadn't yet had time to change when I arrived at her house 15 minutes before we were to depart for Canterbury in the Challock village community bus - which, naturally, Amanda would be driving. Fortunately, 'Wealden Wheels' was delayed, which allowed our hostess to get dressed and me to get acquainted with her guests - a multi-cultural mix of Americans, Spaniards, numerous members of Amanda's immediate family and, naturally, her two much-adored collies. This was going to be some evening. It rocketed even further skywards when Amanda insisted on introducing me as 'editor of the best magazine in England' and adding that Kent Life was 'far better than Country Life.' Slightly embarrassing, obviously true, and terribly Amanda - as a one-woman cheerleading section, she takes some beating.
The 'Cottrell crew' eventually made it to the Cathedral, a tad behind schedule, admittedly, but we all looked fab - especially our leader, who seemed to have acquired a shepherdess's crook (it went very well with her evening bag of choice, which is in the shape of a woolly lamb. Gucci, darling? So last year), not to mention a full Indian headdress. And a large cake. You learn not to ask, and from the eye-rolling of her assorted grown-up children, this was fairly typical stuff.
So to the cloisters, where 600 black-tie guests somehow squeezed in for the reception and I somehow managed to locate my photographer for the night, Lee Burroughs, who got very adept at persuading guests to put their Champagne flutes on the stone floor while pictures were taken - Cathedral orders, which we were happy to follow for the honour of being allowed to photograph anything, quite frankly. Nobody seemed to find this request at all strange and I'm fairly certain the magazine escaped a large bill for rather a lot of trampled glasses...
Among the crowd I managed to spot the divine Joanna Lumley - not eight foot tall as you would imagine from her Ab Fab appearances, but far smaller than my 5 foot 8, that's for sure, and about half my size - she was tiny! Resisting the urge to say how absolutely fabulous it was to meet her (and it was, it was!), I babbled quite a lot about Canterbury and Kent, where she grew up, then persuaded her to have her pciture taken with me and a couple of Amanda's American guests: "eyes and teeth, girls, eyes and teeth!" she commanded, and boy, did we obey.
So, finally, three quarters of an hour late already (we were an unruly and largely disobedient mob who just wouldn't be seated, despite repeated, very polite, requests to do so) we found our tables and quite frankly gawped at the transformation of the Cathedral into a wonderful, candlelit banqueting hall, every table adorned with candelabra topped with beautiful flower arrangements that Amanda and her 'team' (which included many of her house guests) had spent half the previous night creating and assembling. The smell from the creamy roses filled the entire Cathedral.
But we were there for a purpose - and the purpose was to raise money for the £50m Save Canterbury Cathedral Appeal. And tonight it was the turn of the music. To inspire us to dig deep, the choir - led by David Flood, organist and choirmaster for the past 20 years (I feel an interview coming on...) - performed exclusively for us throughout the evening, from The Keble Grace to 'A nightingale sang' and the rather odd but nonetheless delightful 'I'm a train.'
Suitably refreshed and entertained, it was time for the Grand Auction, led by James Loudon and featuring such tempting prizes as a weekend in Jerez, the sherry capital of the world, donated by my new friend Carlos Gonzales, 82, and impeccably elegant (we drank Tio Pepe at our table donated by his company, Gonzales Byass), the opportunity to become a Cathedral gargoyle, carved by the Canteribry stonemasons - or to have a personal voicemail especially recorded by Joanna Lumley, who gave us a snatch of Patsy as an example to tempt the bidding (all men, hmm, I wonder why?). At 61, she is still a blonde stunner and the throaty voice is as distinctive as ever.
I will confirm the total, but as we finally left (I think Amanda, who knows everybody in Kent) probably kissed all 600 guests goodnight) and our hostess drove us back to our cars, we passengers reckoned it was probably about £100,000. Not a bad evening's work. Finally got to bed at 2am, still floating.
Itwas an extraordinary end to a rather extraordinary week, to be honest. I've attended my first ever digital development meeting (and actually found it fun, interesting and inspiring), I've been phoned up by one of my former 'Kent Characters,' Countess Mountbatten, no less, to be told how much she loves Kent Life and how it was getting better and better, had dinner in our greatest Cathedral. Oh, and took my first day off this year - and now summer has arrived as well!
Until Monday then...
Sarah