Glastonbury

Paul arrived for a visit last Thursday and since he touched down, apart from a few meals out, we've been basically chillin'. For our first "real" holiday event of his trip, we'd booked a couple of nights in Glastonbury, leaving Manchester on Easter Sunday and returning home tonight.

Our journey down was extremely leisurely and took in Weston-super-Mare. As a result, we didn't arrive at our usual accommodation - the Who'd A Thought It inn - until mid-afternoon. This left us just enough time for a brief perambulation up and down the high street before beginning the important business of sinking some holiday ales, starting at that most impressive 15th century coaching inn, the George & Pilgrims, where they had a welcoming fire in the grate and a few pints of Butcombe Bitter to warm us up even further.

We dined the first evening in the Who'd. The food there is always top notch and the company is usually quite amusing too. Easter Sunday was no exception as the bar was occupied by a local wag who proceeded to regale anyone who would listen with countless stories, pausing every now and then to laugh uproariously at his own jokes.

The following day we set off for the Tor (with a small initial detour to a local coffee shop to while away half an hour having just missed the Tor bus) hoping the weather would hold. It did, and the views were magnificent, aided if anything by the wonderful cloud formations we were treated too. Our enjoyment was marred slightly by the grass protection measures the council had put in place. Apparently they removed the concrete slab at the top of the Tor a while back and have been trying to grow grass in its place with little success. Believing this to be due at least in part to the heavy foot traffic, they've erected a utilitarian wooden fence around 50% of the grass, leaving a narrow path around the top between the Tor and the brass directional plaque. This combined with the bitterly cold and blustery winds conspired to curtail our visit to what has in the past, for me, been a deeply spiritual place. On this visit, it seemed devoid of any special feeling. It was just cold and unwelcoming.

We caught the bus back down and around again to Chalice Well and once again, despite (or perhaps because of) this being off-season, this calm quiet place felt strangely bereft of magic. Two of the most powerful sites in what has in the past for me been a compelling and rejuvenating place to visit seemed to be utterly asleep and without energy, but it wasn't only them. The entire town had an aspect of being suspended awaiting the new season. Although many of the familiar crystal and incense shops were still open for business, many others along with cafes and restaurants had not survived the winter doldrums and displayed empty windows to the world, often with bailiffs' notices posted on their doors.

Overall Glastonbury had a sad, depressing feel to it on this visit, totally at odds with the vibrant and energised experience we've enjoyed on all our previous trips. In an effort to inject some buzz into the day, we headed off to Street for some retail therapy at the outlet mall, and a beer or two in the Bear. Many of the high season food choices being denied us (even if only by the unappealingly long walk to the other end of the High Street in the increasingly cold wind) we opted for the George & Pilgrims in which to dine on our last night, and were amazed to find our local colourful character from the previous night had made the same decision.

Today we bade goodbye to the subdued winter version of Glastonbury. I hope to be able to return at a later point in the year the next time we visit and see it thriving once again. Before we arrived this time around we had occasionally entertained the romantic notion of retiring down there amid the crystal gazers, poets and hippies. Having seen the place out of season it doesn't present such an appealing aspect and I think we all revised our opinion of it drastically.

We broke our return journey in Bath, spending an entertaining hour or so on the (open) top of a tour bus, which passed Poultney Bridge - seen here - several times during its convoluted passage around the ancient streets. Having completed the tour, we grabbed a swift pub lunch before heading northwards once again and arriving home shortly after 7pm. For this time of year, the weather had been uncommonly kind to us and we'd crammed a lot in, but we all agreed we were now ready for a couple of days "down" time.