It was the morning of the 18th of July and there I stood blinking in the 7am sunlight like some waking bird with my small suitcase. I'd deliberated with using a large rucksack but opted for small luggage as it keeps clothes neater and you don't have to empty the whole thing if you need something at the bottom. I was about to embark on a road trip for a few days with my friend Helen. Much of it was largely planned, as in hotel stops but the rest was left pretty open. The first leg of the journey was soon under way, the weather was perfect as we chatted merrily along driving the 200+ miles to our first stop of Glastonbury. The journey was uneventful apart from Helen stopping at some Travelodge that did breakfasts for a break. Service took ages, she complained (and rightly so) and voila, a free breakfast!
The first place we were booked in at was the Covenstead bed & breakfast which we found without any problems, it's ideally situated almost in the town centre of Glastonbury. This was Helens choice as she has an interest in witchcraft and pagan related subjects. I must admit I was somewhat sceptical about it, not that I am against things like witchcraft or the occult, I'm just a pragmatic atheist/humanist so I honestly didn't see this place ringing my bells, however, I was to be pleasantly surprised.
We were greeted warmly by the owner of the Covenstead called 'Adele' who had long lustrous sable hair and a cheeky Yorkshire accent. It didn't take long to realise she was versed in the Yorkshire art of brevity accompanied by a ready wit. After a couple of formalities we were shown to our room, the 'hand-fasting suite' and left to unpack and refresh. I must add at this point that Helen and myself weren't in this room for romantic reasons, just the fact that Adele was booked up and we had a choice of two rooms, the hand-fasting room was the larger and cooler of the two on offer. The interior of the Covenstead really is amazing, from witchcraft related items, symbols, wall fresco like paintings to flora and fauna. Here's a few photos.
I really liked the Covenstead, sure it isn't your regular bed & breakfast, in fact many people may presume its aimed purely at a niche market but that really isn't the case. Whilst it may not be conventional you could say with a grin and slightly corrupted wording its 'Coven-tional'! If you expecting large tv's or lounges with reclining armchairs then it isn't the place for you but if you want something different with a great host and are open minded then the Covenstead is great value and perfectly located, and the breakfast is large and very tasty with plenty of choice.
After freshening up we headed out to explore but didn't get very far. The problem being is that Glastonbury, though fairly small has a myriad of shops ranging from clothing, books, cd's to religious and pagan related paraphernalia. Helen was immediately bewitched by all of this so I braced myself for a hot afternoon of browsing shops. Prices seemed to range greatly but a persistent bargain hunter would be rewarded. We found a shop called the Psychic Piglet which sold gifts as well as having a music section in the back which even though was quite small had a great range of diverse cd's which I spent a good while perusing, sadly at £15 a cd I thought it was very over priced. Later, Helen found a health food supermarket (previously a Woolworths) and was in raptures about it, my feet were aching by this point but I did indulge in buying some specialist tea though I did ask myself why was I buying food whilst on holiday!?
Heading back to the Covenstead after a marathon of gift shops we showered, rested and then prepared to ascend Glastonbury Tor as evening was now encroaching and Adele had said it was best visited at this time adding "All the interesting people were up there in the evening". As I suffer with arthritis I wasn't exactly looking forward to the climb but on the advice of Adele we took rear approach with steps, yes it was steeper but was less long and arduous. Parking nearby we walked over a field and began to scale the Tor.
Personally I was amazed that I wasn't reaching for my inhaler as I suffer with bouts of asthma at times but I really didn't feel the need to use it once. The climb was quite steep and a little uneven in parts but with a few rests we managed it in relatively little time, as I reached the top I thought to myself am I really in the mythical realm of King Arthur and Avalon? I caught my breath and looked around and for a few moments was bereft of words as I gazed in wonder at the surrounding beautiful landscape.
Initially there were few people at the Tor but as the sun began to slowly drift down in the west more arrived. Some danced, others stood in deep thought, some reclined on the slopes and a group of three guys played some simple tunes. As I settled nearby to listen it turned out one of the guys clutching a guitar had walked from London, his road trip it seemed was still under way but the Tor was a stop off he just had to make. The guitar guy conversed with two others, one clutching some kind of flute and the other a mouth organ and they made music. I rested against St Michael's Tower and soaked up the atmosphere. Later when the sun was almost dipping below the horizon and Helen was taking lots of photos I chatted to an American woman and an elderly guy from the north east of England, everybody seemed friendly and there was an air of peace. Out of nowhere a para-glider turned up and I looked skywards envying the view he had. As I lay on the slope of the Tor and watched the sun slowly sink from view I felt in awe of this beautiful place, I closed my eyes and imagined the time of Arthurian legend, it will certainly be a moment I will always reminisce fondly about.
With little prevailing light left we decided to descend. Halfway down I jolted my ankle, probably down to the fact I was wearing brothel creeper shoes and they are flat and sometimes flip over on uneven surfaces, though I didn't feel in much pain initially it was a sprain that would cause me some grief for the rest of the trip. Arriving back at the Covenstead we parked and headed off in search of food and drink, as it was late there wasn't too much on offer and I certainly didn't want to sit down for a heavy restaurant meal so late on but Helen was hungry. We stumbled upon the 'Becke's Inn' on the High Street which was very much a local's pub. The landlady (and cook) was happy to rustle up ham, egg and chips for Helen. She was a very jolly character with a lilting west country accent and served Helen with a very generous plate of food, I've not seen ham that thick for a very long time. Revived with food, and in my case beer, we headed to a pub Adele had recommended called The King Arthur on Benedict Street. I found it to be a really good pub and the locals were friendly, A Staffordshire bull terrier belonging to one of them curled up next to us as I drank a pint of Butcombe ale which is popular in that area.
Tired but very happy with the day we headed back to the Covenstead and even though it was a really hot night as soon as I clambered upon the bed I closed my eyes without even getting in it and was soon soundly asleep.
Road Trip 2013 will be continued soon!
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