National Trust Glastonbury Tour…

I grew up within the gaze of the Tour.  From the top of the ancient hill, across the flat Somerset Levels I can just make out the line of hills towards my old village.  As a child we used to visit Glastonbury for supplies, on school trips to the Rural Life Museum and the Abbey ruins.  Always a memorable trip to take.
Years on I partied on those fields, under another iconic monument in the area, the Pyramid stage.  A flower child, raised and played within this small ancient place.
I hadn’t taken my sons to Glastonbury before now.  Telling them of the myths and legends of King Arthur, I felt it was time to go.  On the drive down to Somerset, over the Mendips, Dan and I kept pointing out the tour, just as it would disappear behind a line of trees.  Til finally they saw it.
‘Are we walking all the way up there’?
Err, yes, and they did. Like little mountain goats, running up the steep sided pathways to the top.  Once at the top we hadn’t expected it to be so wild and windy.  So much so that I clung to the walls of the tour until I could breathe again.  Rufus ran around and around the top, giddy on the height, the wind and the epic view.
The view, what a view.
From the top we could see Hinkley point, the Severn, Pilton and Worthy Farm where the festival is held, and below us, nestled in against the mighty tour the small spiritual town of Glastonbury.  I kind of wanted to see the floods that Somerset is still enduring, just a small patch was visible from the top, with the worst hit area to the South towards Bridgewater.  
On our descent, we wandered in the town visiting many hippy shops and one in particular ‘Star Child’.  I wanted to take Charlie in there as it reminds me of the potions room in Harry Potter.  Charlie’s eyes widened.  The smell of incense hitting the nose and faint hypnotic music played.  On one wall sat row upon row of glass jars filled with herbs and other witchy like sustances.  Candles overflowed the counter, with female shaped deities and prayer alters.
He whispered ‘Are they witches’?  pointing at a couple of ladies. ‘Probably’ I replied.
He then chose us some green dinner candles… and merrily walked out back in the courtyard and sat by a huge Gold Buddha.
Only in Glastonbury.
  • There is something about the English countryside that makes me think of home. Beautiful photos.

  • I’ve never been to Glastonbury, I’m not sure that I’ve even driven through it, tbh. The views from the tor are amazing, almost enough to get me over my natural dislike of hills (or more accurately the fear of falling and rolling all the way down a la Humpty Dumpty) and drag myself to the top!

  • We were driving home through Glastonbury late Saturday morning and Chris said “there’s a lot of people up the tor today” – it would be funny if it was you and your family we were looking up at!
    I love Glastonbury with all my heart – it’s a place I turn to often. After a bad day at uni in London once, I convinced my flatmate to drive through the night to take me to the tor, and he did bless him! My mum first took me to the festival when I was 8 years old, so I feel like it’s in my blood!

    You might me able to point me in which direction I should look for Worthy Farm – I can never figure it out when I’m up the top!!


  • Sounds like a fun trip. I’m always up for a patchouli scented hippy shop!

  • I have yet to make this trip, looks quite magical, can’t wait to delve into those hippy shops too! :)

  • Beautiful photos, I love that area and remember driving through Glastonbury and stopping off to buy roadside cherries. The English countryside is so beautiful with the added bonus of ancient ruins, something we don’t have here in NZ being such a young country compared to England. So many wonderful tales…………xo

  • Oh I love Glastonbury. We used to go there regularly until we moved a few miles further away. You’ve reminded me how lovely it is there, I must visit again very soon. The last time I was at the top of the tor it was unbelievably windy as well.

  • That is a wonderful post with wonderful pictures. As a Texan who will never be able to visit England, I so appreciate these personal writings about touring England.

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