Heather J.
Yelp
Having done the Bavarian Christmas of Frankenmuth and finding mouth blown glass ornaments little to my liking, I looked forward to sampling the familiar English delights of Canterbury Village. Given I'm mostly English in heritage, the Tudor roofs and familiar rounded turrets of the village strike a happy chord in my soul. It's a good sign when I can name the plants in the landscaping because I grew up with all of them, and I'll need to visit in nicer weather to appreciate them all.
Showing up right before Hallowe'en may not be the ideal time to see Canterbury at its finest. The remnants of their weekend Hallowe'en celebration the day before were in evidence, notably lots of pumpkins, straw bales, and a flapping tent over lonely picnic tables. We sorely would've liked the bonfire given the northerly wind really bit. There were still a fair number of people drawn into the main attraction, "Always Christmas." I had no idea there were also quiltmakers, clocksellers, and an outlet store on the site.
Always Christmas was our main stop aside from lunch at the Clansman and it definitely felt pretty sparse. I wondered whether I missed a stock delivery or they waited to ramp up with the ornaments on November 1. We did like the prospects of a super sale but that might account for the barren, open space. The first room was taken up by unrelated knick-knacks, like a grandmother clock and a bar with a carved Lions logo on the front, lots of cheap jewelry and watches, and not much Christmassy. We carried on past display cases of Precious Moments figurines, a flashback to my childhood when those were popular gifts from Grandma or a great-aunt who thought the little images were so twee. They're vaguely disturbing to me now.
Per its name, the real highlight of the tour are the Christmas trees. Several decorated pines and firs stand at eye level displaying an assortment of ornaments, decorated in varied styles. The Scottish and Irish trees were amusing; Santa wearing a leprachaun suit or in full kilted regalia is definitely something to see once. Plaid balls nearly came home with me until we realized they wouldn't match our scheme. You could have a very festive Christmas with obligatory sheep jokes either way.
Other ornaments included various glass figurines shaped into instruments or objects, like a baby carriage, and an amusing selection of Victorian decorations that I gleefully pointed out. Our tree absolutely needs pink umbrellas festooned with roses, and ornate ladies' shoes worthy of Georgiana, Duchess of Devonshire. What Christmas tree in your fantasy doesn't need some lovely lacy gloves? Just one, I'm afraid, they're sold singly; $10 for the pair. The beau snickered over some particularly rococo tassles that managed to combine lace, glitter, beads, glass, rainbows, and flowers together. He couldn't quite fathom their use; I think they would make a splendid bell-pull for a batty steampunk heroine. But we didn't find too much here that begged purchase other than some lovely gold filigree balls that open so you can stuff them with whatever your heart fancies -- souls, crumpled glitter paper, tinsel, lights.
Downstairs is given over to an eclectic section of sports-oriented ornaments, which I cannot understand the appeal of. I don't need the Tigers on the tree, thanks, and most are hideous to my eye. Another room contained plastic, wood, and dough ornaments resistant to toddlers, though not very attractive. The back section belongs to miniature houses. A central elaborate display of all the Dickensian houses and businesses is really darned impressive, and a punch to the bottom line if you decide you need to own them all. I want the teahouse for the mini scones alone.
Canterbury is an experience, but I felt like we showed up at completely the wrong time and caught the Village half dressed. Maybe it was a lack of carollers or the totally barren shelves, but the place was empty of merchandise and Christmas spirit.
The outdoor appearance gets 3 stars, easy. Very pretty.