Wells Cathedral

Working our way back east, we stopped in Wells, did a
marvelous cathedral tour, walked the town, then headed on
toward Avebury, detouring by Bath in search of an internet
signal. We stopped at a quite decent lay-by about 4 miles
from Avebury. To us, Wells was far more interesting on
the inside than the outside, and I'll have to add another
post to do it justice. If a cathedral can be fun, Wells is a
fun cathedral.

Wells Cathedral is best known for its west

facade, marvelous and pretty much intact

sculpture. Oh yes, there's a bishop's

palace, the old city itself, smallest cathedral

city in England, is beautiful

Interior, looking up at the crossing ceiling, 10 or more

stories above, and organ; I'll have more on the crossing

in the next post...another extraordinary 14th century

cathedral repair job

Apse ceiling

West window

Choir, beautiful textile work, wonderful

misericords

Glastonbury

We spent the night in an enlightened carpark in Tintagel. It actually specified self-contained motorhomes such as us as OK overnight, for a mere 3 pounds. If only there were more.

From Tintagel we drove on the short distance to Glastonbury, a place we have visited many times before. We got diverted into the Clark's (shoes) Village and the outlet stores there, but finally got back on task to take in the celebrated and cheerful weirdness that is Glastonbury. See illustrations.

We finished up too late to find a proper campsite, and wound up in a farm campground near Wells. I misjudged the sogginess of the turf, and promptly got the Grey Wanderer stuck in the camping area. Really stuck. It's mud season here, but then I think probably every season here involves a lot of mud. The farmer happily pulled us out with his tractor--Vicki freaking out, despite his reassurances--noting this was not the first time, and we spent the evening in his (paved, sort of) driveway. 10 lbs; I guess includes the tractor pull. Nice people but not a nice circumstance. I vowed to avoid unpaved areas, especially in England.

Clark's Village, a nice outlet mall, though the

Clark's outlet itself was disappointing

We'd already done the Tor

And the Abbey, more than once, more than

twice, actually

So we concentrated on the high weirdness of High Street; it

reminds me of Haight Ashbury; but then Vicki reminds me

that the weirdness has been going on here for aeons

Steering a middle course between the Ying and the Yang

And hemp (in Avalon)

I swear the Psychic Piglet has been there for 30 years

Not to give an entirely one-sided picture of Glastonbury,

the beautiful George and Pilgrims hotel has been there since

1452; crenellated, too

Marine Spelunking at Tintagel

There are some huge and fantastic sea caves on the Cornish

coast and particularly at Tintagel

For reasons still unclear to me--except that my life insurance

policy was renewed and paid up recently--Vicki wanted me
to climb down to the "beach" and snap a few pix of the giant

caves

So here I am on the beach, huge waves coming ever nearer;

I happen to know, having read Victor Hugo's Toilers of the

Sea many years ago (I am forever watching out for giant

clams), that the tide can come in very quickly in these parts

(i.e., Brittany, English coast)

Snapping pix, minding my own business, and then I notice

sea foam is blowing back out of the cave opening; lots of it

So I beat a hasty retreat; here is the beach 30 minutes later!

Tintagel



Tom took us the back roads to Tintagel

13th century castle ruins; Earl Richard, Henry III's brother,

who built the castle, had a fine sense of location and view,

but little of defense. Most people regard it as a vanity castle,

an attempt to associate with the Arthur legends. Of course,

there is no real connection between this castle or location

with Arthur. There's nothing much substantive about

Arthur at all, but we won't let that get in the way of a good

story.

Coast looking east

West

Summit, end, of the island

More castle ruins

More violent coast

Vicki at Tintagel

St. Ives

Beach road at St. Ives

Tide's out; it's a beautiful beach but a wild surf

Very wild; actually, we didn't think all that much of the

town, but the Cornish coast is wonderful

Oops! Eden Sculpture

I should have followed the Eden post with this, on the variety

of sculpture at Eden Project, one of its major and most

impressive features; above, Woman, in the Cornwall biome

Giant bee, pollinator, on the terraces

Bacchinalia, the Mediterranean biome

Depiction of all the electronic waste each

person creates

The Seed--a 70 ton Cornish granite monolith,
in the Core

World's largest refrigerator magnet board

Us

Archeology 101

Half a mile down the road, once you found the marker on

the unnamed road

Intrepid megalith-hunter, hot on the trail...

Of course, most of the megaliths are now in fences, barns,

houses, etc.

Or scratching posts

Tin Age structure

At last! The very famous and very enigmatic Men-am-Tol,

or "101" site

Me, pondering whether to engage in one of the silly rituals

associated with this site

Of course, I did; but Vicki declined being passed through,

naked, nine times, etc.; at least on camera

This is someone else's photo off the web; I really don't think

there's much of an enigma here; sort of a group site, so to

speak...

Lanyon Quoit

Cornwall has scores of megalithic sites; we visited just a major few. Many have been destroyed or re-cycled into fences, fence-posts, houses, barns, scratching posts, etc. Lanyon Quoit is the largest of Cornwall's dolmens, but it is really out there, on an unnamed road between two hamlets, in or very near Bodmin Moor. We finished up so late we wound up "camping" at the intersection (the wide part of a "Y") of two unnamed roads. Fortunately, there is not much traffic in these places, and the morning view of St. Michael's was great.

Lanyon Quoit (dolmen's are called "quoits" here); tall

enough (for me) to walk under

Another view; originally buried, of course

The National Trust is everywhere; but where was the gift

shop and the membership station? and the cafe and the 
garden store? and who gifted Lanyon Quoit to the Trust?
and where's the folly?

Land's End

We were not the only people there; there were perhaps a dozen others. Land's End is much larger than John O' Groats, but much more cheesy-touristy. Fortunately, almost all the attractions and shops were closed for the season. Unfortunately, and much to our surprise and disappointment, there was no Land's End outlet store. Perhaps we can finally catch the London Fog outlet in London.

Cliffs at Land's End

A rough, wild, but beautiful coastline

The usual sign; took me a long time to figure out what

D ARTFORD was...someplace in France?

Longships lighthouse, a mile and a half out from the

mainland, as a squall approaches