It’s an oft heard complaint that you can’t buy anything useful in Glastonbury. This is of course nonsense. What could be more functional than a mirror ball Ganesha? Who needs underwear when you can simply don a very long cloak? As Kim said to me earlier “I don’t actually want a cauldron, but it’s nice to know I could just pop into the High St and buy one if I did”.
I can’t really take credit for this post. I’ve been busy this week, having a birthday, helping run an Angelic Healing Retreat Centre, organising the infrastructure for a field at Glastonbury Festival, booking pirate folk bands for an event, arranging for this blog to be self hosted and failing to go to the Bardic Trials at the Assembly Rooms because it was just one thing too many. I needed some post content that wouldn’t take too much brain power.
I had some examples of things I’d overheard in Glastonbury already written down and thought they’d make a good start to a post:
A useful and fairly comprehensive map showing the kind of things you are likely to find in the centre of the small but remarkable town of Glastonbury, in Somerset, England.
The bizarre can become commonplace in Glastonbury. Things that in other towns might cause consternation, shock or front page headlines often raise barely an eyebrow.
I love Glastonbury, I’ve been visiting since the 8th of August 1988 (8/8/88 of course) and have lived here since July 1993. I’ve tried moving away, even emigrating, but I’ve been pulled back repeatedly – by the Glastonbury rubber band effect as it’s locally known. Glastonbury is an endlessly fascinating parade of engaging characters, mythology and history, interesting shops, and great musicians. Except on my less positive days when it’s shabby, shambolic and full of nutters trying to blag a quid.