A magical journey: Avebury and Somerset

Wednesday May 27, 2009

In May, after launching A Magical Journey: Your Diary of Inspiration, Adventure and Transformation, I set off on my own magical journey, revisiting some of my favourite places and exploring new ones, on a sweet second honeymoon...

Thursday 21… We set out early to drive to Avebury, the biggest (and some say most impressive) stone circle in Britain, passing through pretty green and yellow fields, wooded valleys and little villages on our way. We had a cup of tea in the Red Lion pub, which is situated inside the circle (it never ceases to amaze me that the little village is within the stones, and I loved staying at a B&B in the circle last time I was there). Then we wandered amongst the massive stones (and tiny lambs), laying our hands on them and skipping between the buttercups and bluebells and blowing on dandelion puffballs, before we slipped through a little fairy grove and walked down Kennett Avenue, the old processional way that led to the circle, which is flanked by pairs of huge standing stones, one a diamond and one a pillar stone, representing feminine and masculine energy respectively. And then we walked by more thatched pixie cottages, across a little stone bridge and alongside golden yellow canola fields before climbing the hill to the West Kennett Long Barrow, a Neolithic (circa 3500BCE) burial chamber and long barrow which you can walk inside. It’s fascinating, and I love walking within it, into the corridor to peek at the smaller chambers off to the side, and down to the far chamber, deep within the earth. Later we carried on down to Silbury Hill (pictured), the largest manmade mound in Europe, and back to Avebury for more time with the stones (and a tiny little baby bunny we saw nibbling the grass). On the way home we went via another White Horse and Morgan’s Hill, getting back in time to climb Wearyall Hill and still make it up the Tor for another stunning sunset.

Friday 22… Our last day, which is very sad. I wandered down to the new Goddess Hall, and up to the Goddess Temple, both beautiful (and beautifully scented!), and bought myself a little present at one of the magical shops. Then we went to the Well again, and stayed there for hours, then spent our last night up on the Tor, soaking up the sunset, and the wildness, and the soaring ravens, and the moments of silence beneath the roaring wind, and not wanting to come back down. It was dark when we finally did, and our steps were a little less confident than usual, but it was so hard to leave the nurturing energy and its immense power. Power to dream, to look within, to bring up the past then help you resolve it. Ah, my favourite place in this beautiful world…

Saturday 23… We sadly left our little cottage, and our little town, and made our way back to Swindon to drop off the car and get the train to London, and make our way to our little hotel room (at least I didn’t cry when I walked into this one – it was relatively nice, although it has the hardest bed in the world!). We planned to go out for a little wander around the neighbourhood, but of course little walks don’t figure to us, and we’d soon made our way across town, through Kensington Gardens and Hyde Park, and down Sloane Street and up Victoria, and suddenly decided to do one of those touristy open bus sightseeing trips, which was amazing – the whole of London unfolding before our eyes, and all the Monopoly sites coming to life. Later we had dinner in a pub called the Shakespeare (of course), then walked down to Westminster, past the parliamentary buildings and Big Ben, and across the Thames to take in the city skyline, all illuminated and pretty against the shining night sky.

Sunday 24… We hot footed it back to Westminster for a boat cruise, but changed our mind once we got there, our quota of being near people totally up. Instead we walked through the city some more, soaking up the atmosphere and the history (and the occasional rain drops), making our way up Park Lane to Piccadilly Circus, then to Leicester Square and Trafalgar Square to visit the lions. We had lunch at the Sherlock Holmes pub (when in Rome…), then went on a Harry Potter walking tour, which was so much fun, and then as night began to fall we did a Jack the Ripper walking tour through the East End, which was a bit spooky

Monday 25… We jumped on the tube and raced through the grey morning to Kings Cross Station to take a photo of Platform 9 3/4 for my Harry Potter story, and it’s the cutest thing ever. Very clever on their part! Then we met an old friend for lunch at the café in Hyde Park – and the sun came out, giving us a weird instant tan. Then we hung out down at the Embankment on the Thames until meeting some other friends at South Bank and wandering down to the Globe theatre and having a lemonade in its cute pub…

Tuesday 26… We were very pouty as our last day dawned, but determined to make the most of it. We went back to Australia House (Gringotts Bank in the Harry Potter flicks), then St Paul’s Cathedral, although I just wandered around outside while Juz went in, having seen enough of them to last a lifetime (not to mention the $25 “donation” to go inside). We went down to the Tower of London, and historic old Tower Bridge, then raced over to Earls Court to meet a long-lost friend (ironically the first time I had been to the Aussie conclave was to meet an American). After a series of amusing events we found each other, and had a lovely diner, catching up on the last three years… and then it was time to go home and pack…

Wednesday 27... We farewelled London, and made our way to the airport and our plane home, flying until late Thursday, and spending all of Cutes's birthday in the air. Lucky he likes airplanes...

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