Monoman on Tor (part 1)
While Bron was away cycling with her mother I decided to head down to Somerset for a week. I'd wanted to re-visit Somerset for a while and get to grips with variety of countryside on offer (Mendip hills to the north, coastline, and Somerset levels to the south.) In terms of vacation I'm very low-maintenance - give me a car and an OS map and I'm happy; getting under the skin of a place, bozzing around country lanes and uncovering their secrets is what I like. I'd rather stay in one place and get to know it really well, than travel widely but only get a superficial impression of each destination.
I stayed in Glastonbury. Leaving all the new age bullshit to one side, it's a good base geographically, has a few decent shops / pubs / eateries, and a very laid-back atmosphere. Unlike a lot of places, you can basically do what you like and be who you want without getting hassle. I stayed in one of a row of mews cottages, newly-redeveloped and bang in the centre of town. The husband and wife team who run the operation - Louise and Bill Knight - are extremely generous and welcoming (more of this later); I had milk, bread, eggs, tea and coffee waiting for me. The cottage itself was tastefully decorated and decked out to a high standard.
First afternoon I did what any self-respecting holidaying male would, namely drank beer. Sitting outside in the sun, getting mildly inebriated and watching the people go by was a good way to soak up the 'vibes' and relax into the holiday spirit.
My luck was holding weather-wise. Next day I scaled the Tor and lay in the sun as truth-seekers sat and meditated or ambled aimlessly with dowsing rods. Whether Glastonbury Tor really is the Sacred Omphalos of a West Country Elisium or not, I don't know. But it does have a uniquely calming effect. I must've sat absorbing the views for a couple of hours before trotting back down into town.
En route I came to the aid of a woman whose car had a puncture (by 'come to the aid of' I mean 'stand watching while a man from the local Buddhist ashram on a weekend vow of silence swapped the wheel over'.) It turned out the woman had left home seven years ago and still not returned. Instead she'd traveled the length and breadth of the UK with her stuff shoved into the back of a Peugeot 205, and Glastonbury was her favourite place.
When I got back to my cottage, Bill was sitting outside with a glass of red wine and a pack of ciggies. He invited me to join him, so I grabbed my bottle of half-price Tesco 2002 Rioja and did just that. Five hours and many more bottles of wine later, it was time to call it a day. We'd sat in his garden discussing a whole range of topics 'man-to-man' as he put it, while Louise delivered us plates of delicious food and frolicked with their young son in the yard.
Posted by monoman at 01:45 PM on October 17, 2008
