When I say I visited Glastonbury, most people asked why I didn't just visit during the festival, which is a shame as this wonderful little town has so much more to offer. We stayed just outside the main town at Bliss cottage run by Trish, where delicious vegetarian food was served in mismatched bowls, pancakes were topped with Somerset bee pollen and roasted walnuts, and walks were guided by a big and confident shaggy dog. A short walk away in between hedgerows and grazing fields we met Gog and Magog, two revered ancient oak trees steeped in Druidic significance, two ancient giants that gave into old age, or a fire, or a lighting bolt. Who knows, but seeing old beautiful trees is never lost on me and the hearsay added to their mystery.
We climbed up to the Tor, the highest point of Glastonbury, drum beats from Druids echoed across the countryside and called us upward. On a clear day you can see South Wales apparently. You can visit the Chalice Well (wells are said to be gateways to the spirit world), the red of the water is said to represent the rusty iron nails used at the Crucifixion, the water did taste quite iron-oxidey to spur imagination on. If you are lucky enough, you can stumble upon a medieval festival close the the Glastonbury Abbey, drink mead, meet soldiers ready for battle, and get serenaded to by a man with long silvery hair.
The town's ancient treasures are well hidden, without knowing you could drive past the town in a few minutes without knowing that some of its sites are on "the holiest ground in England." In the husk of the Abbey is the supposed resting place of King Arthur, and where St. Joseph returned to England from the Holy Land as a Christian missionary, and he planted his staff – which burst into leaf and became the sacred Glastonbury thorn tree.
A place of magic and legend, pagan gods, soft souls and and holy thorn trees, secluded spots with streams, and hills haunted by the memories of ancient saints and heroes, an island of the blessed dead, and a gateway to the spirit realm.
We climbed up to the Tor, the highest point of Glastonbury, drum beats from Druids echoed across the countryside and called us upward. On a clear day you can see South Wales apparently. You can visit the Chalice Well (wells are said to be gateways to the spirit world), the red of the water is said to represent the rusty iron nails used at the Crucifixion, the water did taste quite iron-oxidey to spur imagination on. If you are lucky enough, you can stumble upon a medieval festival close the the Glastonbury Abbey, drink mead, meet soldiers ready for battle, and get serenaded to by a man with long silvery hair.
The town's ancient treasures are well hidden, without knowing you could drive past the town in a few minutes without knowing that some of its sites are on "the holiest ground in England." In the husk of the Abbey is the supposed resting place of King Arthur, and where St. Joseph returned to England from the Holy Land as a Christian missionary, and he planted his staff – which burst into leaf and became the sacred Glastonbury thorn tree.
A place of magic and legend, pagan gods, soft souls and and holy thorn trees, secluded spots with streams, and hills haunted by the memories of ancient saints and heroes, an island of the blessed dead, and a gateway to the spirit realm.
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