We had a flying trip past Stonehenge. We visited it about 4 years ago, and I thought we might stop again, but even from a distance you could see there were more people than stones, so it was enough to take evidence from the car.
The main stop, however, was Glastonbury. I had only heard of it as that famous music festival, but it was a great little town full of hippie shops, old houses, magic and God. Because Chris and I are too stingy for our own good we packed a romantic picnic to eat inside the ruins of the cathedral. I highly recommend it, on your own or in a group. I almost bought all the Catholic souvenirs they had, but the painful memory of packing and throwing away too many cherished belongings stopped me cold.
Last, but not least, Chris promised me the UK’s mini grand canyon, also known as Cheddar Gorge. At first when we ‘arrived’ I saw nothing. Then I saw it. It was impressive and cool, and ended in the blink of an eye. The comparison to the grand canyon was a vast overstatement which left me confused and bitter when it was over. The rest of the town promised to be a sweet tourist trap which I promise to revisit and explore a cave or two when time and money allows.
It was a good mini-trip to warm us up for our goal later this month. One word of complaint against the UK is: aircon. It may just have been our crappy little car, but travelling in it turns it quickly into an oven even when the outside is fairly cool…I have much more to tell on these sufferings later…