I went to a wonderful wedding in Bradford-on-Avon on Saturday and then headed off to Glastonbury for a pub lunch with friends yesterday. My friend's husband was surprised in the Gents to find a man putting on make-up. "Don't mind me," he said, "I'm just getting ready for the Zombie walk!"
It was a wet, windy autumnal day but we didn't let the weather disrupt our plan to climb the tor. When we reached the top, amidst the howling gale, we heard a weird chant emanating from the tower: three "pilgrims" trying to connect with the energy from the ley passing through the tor. To us sceptics, there seemed to be more force from the wind than the earth.
On the way down we took the wrong path and ended up at the White Spring, a candlelit temple to water nestling under the hill. By this time, the clocks having gone back, it was dusk and atmospheric. The temple contains a healing pool, although even my intrepid husband wasn't tempted by complete, or incomplete, immersion, and shrines to Brigid (a Celtic fire goddess), Our Lady of Avalon (aka Mother Earth) and the King of the World of Faerie. The shrine to the last was covered with antlers and an assortment of bizarre offerings.
There are two springs from the tor. One is red, coloured by iron, the other white with calcite. The Well House where the White Spring is located, was built in the nineteenth century to provide clean water for the town which was beset by cholera.