What shall we do on the first sunny English Saturday since October? How about a trip to the Tor? Pack up the pooch, the tunes and the Super 8 and off we go down narrow country lanes to Glastonbury, Britain’s New Age hippie fun town!
But first a stop at the Somerset home of Joff’s parents. The apple certainly doesn’t fall far from the tree in this family: Jenny (a fantastic seamstress and former dancer) and Pete (a jazz drummer who still plays two or three gigs a week) welcome us with open arms and keep us in stitches with lightning fast banter and running jokes throughout the delicious lunch. Evidently talent, humor and tenderness are hereditary.
On to Glastonbury! After overloading our senses on incense, auras, damsels, mystic murals and Jethro Tull-style wizardry, it’s Tor time. As the website says, “It’s no ordinary hill: people develop personal relationships with it.” Welcome to Camelot country! After stopping to fill up our canteen with magical water (tasting of “blood and metal” according to Joff) from a spring where all kinds of frumpy faeries and dreadlocked druids are dancing about, we head toward the tower with visions of King Arthur dancing in our heads…
