Glastonbury

We went to Glastonbury yesterday. Somewhere I’ve never been. Actually, when I make a sweeping statement like that, my mum usually interjects with ‘Yes you have, we took you when you were 3 months old’. So I shall be more careful with my phrasing: I do not recall ever visiting Glastonbury.

Right, having got semantics out of the way we can get down to business.



Glastonbury itself was actually somewhat bigger than I was expecting. It even has a ‘superstore’, although we never came across it during our visit. The main thing that struck me, however was the plethora of shops that were flogging ‘mystical’ tat. Yes, in any given shoppe (note the spelling) one can purchase mystical spell books, mystical candles, mystical bits of rock, mystical lumps of wood and mystical chunks of plaster-of-paris in the shape of mystical items such as mystical chalices and all the while, you are treated to the overpowering stench of mystical incense sticks. We received many dirty looks form mystical shoppe owners who overheard us slighting their wares.

The Torr itself was quite nice. Not especially high as hills go, but given that its plonked right in the middle of the Somerset Flats, its quite prominent and affords some pretty spectacular views.

I think I may have taken the picture just as the sun popped behind a cloud as it looks a bit murky, but rest assured, it was a gloriously sunny day.