NOTES FROM MUD ISLAND PART 1

The chronicles and meandering waffle from our trip around the UK in Sophie Skoda...

Sunday September 5th

Interesting day in Glastonbury watching geriatric hippy folk amble around the town square - really shoo-wowish - haven't seen so many tie-dyed fabrics, dreadlocks and filthy denim for a while. Oh, the abbey and the tor were interesting too...and as Thomas Dolby said:Here in England it's so greenMartian men can move unseen...

Well now chronologically: yes indeed, David (Faye says everyone only ever calls you Mr Griggs so bollocks to that), I am measuring my vacational success by the degrees to which ennui overshadows my fervent ability to do as little as possible with innate enjoyment.
So far so good.
Traipsing after Karen through all the little crystal and psuedo-wiccan shops was more than interesting although I did feel a bit like her feline familiar rather than a husbank (oops sorry - Freudian slip there) husband!
And Mr Closs, yes indeed, we'll be visiting the auld fowk in the last 2 weeks of September aroon Edinburgh, Perth, Pitlochry, Dundee etc. (aw on the east coast - nane ae yer Glescae rubbish noo) ;-)
My sister, Norma arrives from South Africa via Portugal around 18th and we're hooking up with her to do the Scottish leg.
Some of our relatives are getting very long in the tooth now so this may be our last opportunity to see them - kinda bittersweet visit in that sense but cathartic in a way as well.
And Lana, my green-eyed sister - we'll have to revisit Glastonbury as we arrived late following an eye-opening visit to the shallowest of gene-ponds in Weston-Super-Mare (sounds like a gender-confused equine superhero) to buy myself a local mobile package for the month.
It is affectionately (or not) known as Weston-Super-Mud given the silty nature of the tidal flow in the estuary there. Some of the residents looked like they'd recently crawled amphibiously from the slime that very morning and bipedal locomotion was altogether new to them...but I digress.
Glastonbury needs a relook and we wanted to spend a little more time visiting the chalice well and the tor which we didn't get to and frankly want to see more privately to get the most from the experience. So we'll make a plan next week.
Today off to Wells (I can only ever hear the immortal line from Blackadder II) - "It's the baby-eating bishop of Bath and Wells..." as he bursts in on Edmund who is snugged up with a strumpet whom he introduces as "...a very dear friend of his..." and to which she replies: "I'm not dear at all actually considering all the weird, kinky..."
Edmund interrupts timeously - well you get the picture.
It's a beautiful part of the world I must confess and we half expected to see knights on horseback thundering across the meadows or pox-ridden serfs wailing at the roadside but truth be told - just aging hippies with interesting aromas and even more interesting tonsorial arrangements...Ah England - so civilised. (I wonder when we'll see that bit...?)