What makes us Tingle really
is Tingle. But I was OK, finally a lull came in the sharing and I
felt it was my turn, the group had been sitting too long, and I stood up
and said I'd brought a couple of dances to share. That was when Judy
jumped up, excited and said she was going to ask me to share Beltane Fire
Dance the next day, and would really LOVE to do it now too! At that
point I guess I tingled for sure, feeling a little important - the only
one who flew all the way from Canada for a UK Dance retreat, and she really
wanted to do MY dance. mmmmmmmmm OK, I was tingling.
The rest of the weekend was
filled with dance, good - no wonderful food cooked by the Sisters, rest,
music, meeting and connecting with new people - what more can I say.
I must add in here, the harp concert performed by Julia.
I left there feeling totally nurtured, rested, exhausted, happy, sad - the whole range. I LOVE harp music, and here I was, feeling all these feelings and for our rest period, we had this beautiful, soul reaching concert by one of our participants - Julia. She explained features of her harp, played us magnificent pieces - it was like a dream come true - the whole weekend.
Then Sunday afternoon, it was over and I was off to my adventure. We all went back together on the ferry, even got a ride to the train station and purchased my ticket for Salisbury. I was off. Actually I was off the train sooner than I could imagine, and in that old town. To me everything is a town, so quaint. Took a taxi to the hostel, and checked in. Nice hostel, clean, cooking facilities, large grounds, close to city centre. Perfect.
When you go to Stonehenge, the town right before it is Amesbury where there is a stop. Then as quick as you arrived, you leave. You are headed on a small road, come up over a hill and THERE THEY ARE!!! Right in front of you. Just imagine. You have only seen pictures up until this time.
Everyone tells you you'll
be disappointed with them, but here they are. HERE I AM - AT STONEHENGE!!!
Nope, not feeling anything but overwhelmed, excited, tearful, heartful.
I just want to get there and get in. I really wish at that point the bus
would stop so you could get a picture right there. Next time I'm
going to walk back to that point and get a photo - I'm not sure anywhere
else can you feel their majesty like there.
I'm not sure what else to write about being at Stonehenge. I could get kind of negative about how wet I got, but I won't because it didn't matter. I stayed in their presence walking around, doing the dance Lore, meditating, talking pictures, feeling their energies, relishing in the fact that I was actually there, for about an hour. Doesn't seem long, but in the torrential rains, it feels like hours. I kept checking in to see how much was enough, and then finally decided it was time to look at taking a bus back to Salisbury and getting dry. The bus only came every hour, so I took the 2pm one, and returned to start the process of drying off.
During my exposure at the stones, I found out my shoes were not rain proof, my rain coat was worse, even my backpack was inadequate. Amazing what it takes to smarten you up.
I returned to the Hostel and washed clothes, dried shoes on radiators, spread out all my paperwork that was soaked in my backpack to be dried. Actually, wasn't fun at the time, but it was good inner time to reflect on where I had been and accomplished.
Tuesday I felt it was time to get to Glastonbury and visited the Tourist Information office to purchase a bus ticket and find out how to get there. I ended up taking the local Salisbury - Bath Wiltshire/Dorset bus line for three pounds and from there had to take National Express to Glastonbury for five pounds. The latter trip was approx. one hour, compared to two hours to get to Bath. There were many learning curves. Some were to purchase tickets in advance, rather than on the spot, take local bus lines, rather than National lines, and especially buying train tickets, always buy in advance - ALWAYS.
So anyways, again taking the bus is my preferred means of travel. The countryside is so gorgeous. You go through so many quaint towns that going by train, you just wouldn't do.
With the rains having been
as torrential as they were, there were many slightly flooded areas around.
But the bus got through them all.
Arrived in Glastonbury and
walked up the street to the Backpackers Hostel. Went into the Pub
looking for registration and realized I'd found it. OK, this will
be a bit different I thought. Do I want to stay here? At 8pm
at night, I didn't really have much of a choice so I stayed.
I was directed up to the third floor to one of the front rooms. It was ok..., had four bunk beds in it and four official occupants including me, I think. Ended up really only two of us slept there. The others just seemed to come and get changed now and then. It was pretty basic, bathroom was quite nice actually. Beds were steel bunk beds mattresses covered with vinyl, which for starters made the beds slippery. Actually, the beds were the pits, and the room was cold.
The rest of the space was good. Big kitchen and TV reading space and a wonderful dog named Merlin. A rottweiler/lab/shepherd mix. He was very well tempered, not well trained when walking. We became good friends right away and to pass an hour of exploration around Glastonbury that night, we took quite a long stroll.
On Wednesday I woke up, went for breakfast and proceeded to walk up to the Tor. I ate a traditional English fried breakfast at Excalibur's Cafe - it was pretty good - Coffee, eggs, sausage, bread, etc. for around three pounds. My meal of the day.
Then I followed the map to
where I was told the least muddy ascent up the Tor was. The town
of Glastonbury is another even more quaint little town. So old.......
Walked up to where the entrance to the Chalice Well and Garden was and
right beside it was the "easy" entrance to the Tor. On the way up
I sat in well placed benches to ponder, catch my breath and meditate.
Why run all the way up and down I say!
Once up there I walked around and around St. Michael's tower. There were cows up there, even in the tower escaping the wind. And the wind. We in Sacred Circle Dance have a piece called Winds on the Tor. I discovered why it is so named. Down below in the village, it was peaceful, cool, but no wind. Up on the Tor, it was blowing a Gale and cold. Not even cool but freezing. Once I got past how cold it was, I marveled. All around the Tor was flooded and it looked and felt like the Isle of Avalon. I circled the Tor in a ritual manner, honouring the earth, sky, wind and sun. Then I took out my tape player and headset and danced Winds on the Tor over and over. And I sat in the sun away from the wind, went inside the Tower a bit, took pictures, meditated. I felt like I was in heaven.
Didn't feel the same emotion
as I did at Stonehenge. That really surprised me, because I'd been
so looking forward to being on the Tor. I think the climb, the wind,
the cold just made the emotion be more jubilant than teary. When
I sensed it was time, I descended to be drawn to the Well and Garden space
for serious meditation and inner contemplation. This also seemed
to be the closest I could get to the Chalice Hill, which kept on calling
to me.
Right at the entrance to
the Garden, there was a symbol.
The Vesica Piscis called
to my soul! It is a powerful symbol of the creation and generation
of forms in the natural world. A symbol of death and reembodiment,
male/female, spirit/matter, day/night.
Once inside, the peace and
tranquility of the Gardens settles the most hyper person, into a meditative
state. Every bench and nook beckons you to go inside, meditate, contemplate.
At points within the garden, I could feel the fairies and other beings.
The spirits of the plants were everywhere. Every little spot.
There I was, on Chalice hill, in the garden, within sight of the Tor in
more sacred space doing sacred time. I collected sacred water from
the spring to share with groups at home.
The next day I went to the Glastonbury Abbey and again it was such sacred land and space. Ladychapel which is the most in tact building and the abbey where King Arthur is buried and the whole grounds were very special. More contemplation and meditation.
After visiting the Abbey,
I had booked a healing session in a healing centre right across from the
hostel. It was just what I needed. I've forgotten to write
about the energies around Glastonbury, the shops, the people. Short
of going really into a LONG discourse, let's just say, I've never seen
so many spiritual, new age, pagan type shops and centres, all in one place,
along one road. The people range from people like me who are there
because they are on a journey, people who do spirituality/healing classes
or courses, to people who are way out there. And if you are anything
like me, being a sponge and mopping up all that stuff out there, all of
a sudden you find you are bit overwhelmed and spaced out and can't figure
out why. So I booked myself a healing session. And it was wonderful.
Just what I needed.
To end it all, I walked up to Wearyall Hill to the Tree from the legend that Joseph of Arimathea planted his staff and it grew to a thorn tree. From that hill, you get a magnificent view of the Tor.
Upon my return to town, I
went for tea to meet a friend, June, who was picking me up and taking me
to the Cotswolds. The next part of the journey is resting in Kemble
for a day, visiting, doing Reiki, reconnecting with a very dear friend,
a very expensive train ride to London from Kemble.
The journey from Kemble back to Potters Bar is worth talking a bit about. First the train from Kemble was almost an hour late due to some messing up on the lines. Once in London though, I was a little worried about how I was going to get about with my big heavy pack. It was fun actually. I took the tube to Kings Cross station and found the train to Potters Bar. Stopped to buy a very very expensive cheese baguette and coffee, got on the train, and to my amazement only had 15 minutes to eat and drink before arriving in Potters Bar.
Once in Potters Bar, Nick (the people I started out with) came to pick me up at the train station in a 1921 CITROEN. How cool I kept saying. We even went for a drive in the countryside to get some free range organic eggs. Stopped to buy pomegranates (8 for one pound!!) and went back for a cuppa.
Early the next morning I was back on the train from St. Albans to Gatwick to stand by for my flight to Cincinnati.
How sad to leave England, but happy to be able to share my experiences with you all. I know I found a big part of me that was missing, did some major physical healing, major spiritual healing, and major emotional healing.
If you are interested in
coming with me on a similar journey in 1999, please feel free to email
me and visit the Journey to England page.