Down By Avalon. (Part 2, In The Church Of St John)

I was up and about early on Thursday after one of the best sleeps I had for ages., and after a leisurely breakfast headed into town for another day of exploring Glastonbury. Nowhere was open yet and it was drizzling rain, so I sheltered in the porch way of St John’s church. This is another place associated with Van Morrison because it is mentioned in his epic song Summertime In England, ‘Would you meet me in the country, In the summertime in England, Would you meet me? In the Church of St. John, Down by Avalon’. 

There is a thorn tree in the grounds grown from the Glastonbury Thorn.  According to legend, Joseph of Arimathea visited Glastonbury with the Holy Grail and thrust his staff into Wearyall Hill, which then grew into the original thorn tree. Every Christmas a blossom from this tree is taken to the royal family to decorate their Christmas table. Suddenly, on the stroke of 9.00 the door behind me opened, and the verger came out. I thought it was only polite to have a look inside. There is a beautiful stained-glass window to be admired in the 15^th century church, although it is believed that St Dunstan built a wooden church here in the 10^th century. 

When I emerged from the church it was still raining, so I thought I had better go back to the digs for my raincoat. I did that, and although it threatened to, it never rained again all day. When I restarted my walk, I decided to head up Bove Town (derived from Above Town) towards the countryside. Eckhart Tolle used to live on this street before he became famous and used to walk up here to the Tor every day. As I walked along, I wondered which house he lived in. Winston Churchill’s granddaughter Arabella lived here as well. She was one of the driving forces behind Glastonbury Festival in its early days. I wonder if she and Eckhart knew each other. As I reached the open countryside there is a steep embankment on either side of the road. A landslip in the past had exposed the roots of trees growing beside the road. I was amazed to see that the roots of two trees had entwined with each other. It was almost as if they were supporting each other in order to stand up. It makes you realise the wonders of nature. 

I wandered along the little lanes following a circular route until I arrived at the Tor again, on the opposite side to yesterday.  I was tempted to climb it again, but in view of the threat of rain changed my mind and headed down the lane towards town. Near the White Spring I spotted this man placing bird food on the top of a wall. There were about 30 or 40 little birds of several species gathered along the wall gobbling up the seeds voraciously. The man told me that he had fed them every day for about three years, the birds had got used to him and were quite tame. Quite wonderful.

I walked down Magdelene Street past an incredible mural painted on the side of a house. There are murals all over the town which all add to the magic of this place. Then I discovered St Margaret’s Chapel & The Magdelene Almshouses which I’d never seen before. The almshouses were built in the 13^th century to accommodate the poor men of the town. What immediately struck me was how tiny the doorways were. People were a lot shorter in medieval times than we are today. The chapel built in 1250 is dedicated to St Margaret who was a Queen of Scotland and dedicated her life to tending the sick and was made a saint by Pope Innocent 1V. 

After that little interlude I crossed the road and entered the Abbey grounds. I have been here many times before, often for memorable concerts, but I never tire of visiting this historic site which is steeped in myth and legend. The place is undergoing a major restoration and development at the moment which will make it even more spectacular in future years. I was especially pleased to see that the grassy areas were carpeted with hosts of snowdrops, crocuses and yellow ancorites. A reminder that Spring cannot be too far away. 

I went back to the Market Tavern for dinner where the barman told me that they were having a pub quiz and open mike music night later. I arrived for the quiz at 8.00, but was disappointed to find there was no quizmaster, you had to download an app to take part, and answer the questions on your phone. The answers came up on a big screen which told you who answered first. It all seemed too impersonal to me, so I didn’t bother taking part. I enjoyed the live music though. It was all local musicians, some of whom were very talented, singing songs by the likes of Bob Dylan, Johnny Cash and John Prine. I ended up drinking about five pints of cider which is a lot for me these days. It was a fun end to a most enjoyable day. 

I thought I would feel a bit rough the next morning due to the cider, but I felt great. After breakfast I went for a last walk around town and had a good browse in the bookshops. I ended up buying three books, After The Ecstasy, The Laundry by Jack Kornfield who is a Buddhist writer and teacher I have long admired, Echoes Of Memory, poems by John O’Donohue and Daily Wisdom, 365 Buddhist Inspirations. I might tell you all about these books in due course. Finally at 11.30 Michelle drove me back to Castle Cary which was the end of my too brief visit to mystical Glastonbury. I hope that I return before too long. THE END.

 

Down By Avalon (Part 1, Enlightenment)

As my reward for doing Dry January, I thought I would treat myself to a couple of days away in my favourite small town in Somerset. Although Glastonbury is only 30 miles away it is quite awkward to get to if you don’t have your own transport. Luckily for me the B & B landlady Michelle kindly offered to meet me at Castle Cary railway station and drive me to Glastonbury. It was nice to see her again, and stay at her cosy little B & B. The weather forecast wasn’t great for the next few days, so I was keen to see as much as possible before the rain arrived.

As soon as I had unpacked my stuff, I headed out again to explore the town and revisit my favourite places. My first port of call was The Chalice Well and gardens. I was pleased to see that some flowers were already blooming in early February. The well is also known as the Red Spring because of the high iron content of the water which leaves a red deposit on everything it touches. I drank a few sips of the water at the Lion’s Head drinking fountain because it is said to have healing properties.

There is a meditation space at the Chalice Well called ‘The Upper Room’ which is exclusively for silent contemplation. The lyrics of Van Morrison’s song Avalon Of The Heart came into my head, ‘In the upper room. There the cup does stand, In the upper room, Down by Avalon’. Van’s songs often enter my consciousness in Glastonbury, and he is well acquainted with the myths and magic of this area. Legend has it that Joseph of Arimathea buried or washed the cup from the Last Supper here. At 3pm a bell was rung for the Silent Minute which was established during the Second World War and observed here for decades.

Time was moving on; it would be dark in two hours, and I wanted to climb the Tor. I began the ascent just around the corner from the Chalice Well, before you get to the White Spring. There were dozens of pregnant sheep grazing on the hillside, which reminded me that it will soon be lambing time, always a great time of year. I always think it is quite a biblical pastoral scene which reminds me of that great visionary William Blake. I stopped every few yards to observe the view over the Somerset countryside. 

Even late on a February afternoon there were quite a few other people going up or down the ancient pathway. Finally, I reached St Michael’s Tower at the summit. Surveying the Somerset levels below you could see a mist arising in the distance. The Tor can be seen from miles around above this mist. It is a phenomenon known as Fata Morgana which takes its name from Morgana Le Fey a sorceress in Arthurian legend. The tower is roofless, so sitting on a bench inside and looking up you get a free artwork of nature, namely the heavens above. As I gazed upwards I thought I saw a tiny angel descend, but sadly it was only a pigeon coming home to roost. 😊

After half an hour or so of mindful contemplation I thought I better be heading back down to the town below. I had some food at the Market Tavern and called in at The George & Pilgrim for a glass of wine as other pilgrims have done for hundreds of years. Back at the B & B I thought I’d have an hour’s nap before the evening, but when I woke up, I couldn’t be bothered going out again, especially as it had begun to rain. I slept soundly until 6.00 the next morning, little realising what a great day lay ahead. (To be Continued) 

The George & Pilgrim.