Day 35: FIELD TRIP--The Tor and Other Thin Places

Hiking In Wellies

A thin place is called so by the Celts because the veil separating us from God is thin...so thin you can see through it. Such was our destination today--Glastonbury, the place where Christianity came to England, where tradition tells us that young Jesus came with his uncle Joseph of Arimathea to trade tin and establish his kingdom, and where the tomb of King Arthur was discovered. Our cramped little coach had us all sleeping in snatches, waking at the bright sunlight streaming through the windows. We all galumphed out to the abbey ruins, Wellies thumping on the firm ground, necks sore from being so slumped over. After group pictures in the arches and seeing the old well ("THAT's how you get into Narnia," said Amanda), the sun called us uphill in an ambitious hike.


Glastonbury is a charming village (like every one we've been to), but a little more on the World of Warcraft/Dungeons and Dragons/Magic Cards. I looked into the window ledges as we passed, and there was stained glass in most home windows, candles, incense, unicorns, wizards, and dried out flowers. Apparently the people hold a Goddess Conference each year, something that leaves Women's Conference in the dust. I wonder what it's like to live there.


The Tor is a monstrous grassy hill that was once an island, and said to be the landing spot for young Jesus. At the top is a stone tower, but this has no stairs. Huffing and puffing, we made it to the top and could see all the way to Wales. The air was thin, and if there hadn't been girls trying to take pictures of human pyramids, all you can hear is the wind in your ears. The spots of white cloud cast ominous shadows in the countryside below, over old houses and sheepfields, over rolling hills where castles once stood, and glassy lakes that confused the borders. We stood out in the sun, and I found myself utterly disinterested in spending the precious moments up there taking pictures. Like Rachel says, "I was busy being a sponge. Soaking it all in, you know?"


Bishop Shuler told his Tor story as he made friends with someone's basset hound Rupert (how the dog got UP the hill, no one will ever know). He came up on his own one day to find a man in a mummy bag at the top. Since Bishop likes talking to eccentric people (a little like Mr. Bennett that way) he sat down and chatted up the camper. Their conversation turned to things like teleportation, space travel and mind powers, which they both seemed to enjoy. As Bishop got up to leave, he said, "Well, see you later. This is a really cool place." And the guy replied, a little undertone, "Not as cool as the moon."


Liz, Ben and I talked to Dr. Seely as we hiked down. He told us he really liked our group because we weren't very clique-y at all, we were a friendly group overall, and we apparently were the most punctual group in living memory. What was wrong with the other girls? we all wondered. We are legitimately afraid of being left somewhere hours from the Centre.


Stourhead and More Film Sites


The weather could not have been more beautiful. Dr. Bird was delighted--our next stop was a "picturesque" garden, a term she was trying to hit home for our seminar class. On the coach, I didn't know what the big deal was. We wandered down the garden lane to find a blue lake surrounded by red, yellow, and green--and there was the bridge Keira Knightly runs across in the rain, and there was the Apollo temple where Mr. Darcy proposes--! Poor Andrea declared she would cry because it was so beautiful. I sat on the bridge end and Ben took a picture. Going up to the temple was cool, except that it was swarming with girls who seemed intent on taking engagement, bridal, and senior pictures in the same place. What a nightmare.


Our next stop was a little more enjoyable--Bath boasts gardens, shops, pasties and pastries for a pound, and water that definitely tasted like sulfur. We spent as long as we cared to in the Roman Bathhouse, which was cool--without indoor plumbing/heating, it was amazing to see how they harnessed the heat and steam for everyone's comfort. Unfortunately, our tour was punctuated by constant images of naked Romans lounging in every corner. All I can say is the swimsuit was a brilliant idea.

Fast forward several centuries to the Regency period and we see a lot less skin--a visit to the Pump Room and the horrible water, then to the Assembly Rooms for a bit of dancing. I never much daydreamed in Austen terms, like many of my friends do, but I couldn't quite shake the scenes from Persuasion standing there. The Octagon Room was empty and sumptiously lit by one monstrous chandelier, and I could only imagine the crowds of people and the smell before deodorant was invented (bless his soul, whoever figured that out). Maybe the Regency dances should come back with a vengeance--clubs are super lame, since none of us know how to dance these days. (Watching the girls waltz together for pictures was proof enough). Our day ended far too early, and we, full of pasties, fell asleep far too quickly and got home far too late. I love field trip days.