It felt like our own Amazing Race involving an 8.5 hour flight in a sardine can, a search for a place to purchase a train ticket to get to the tube which will take us to Paddington Station for yet another train that transports us to a small rural station by the name of Castle Cary.
As we step off the train we are greeted with hugs and kisses from English relations of my Husband.
After the scariest drive down some very windy and narrow country roads on the wrong side of the road, we are in Glastonbury and the awe has begun with our hotel.
More than 600 years old, The George and Pilgrim is the oldest public house still operating in Southern England. It's age shows as we walk across the sloping floor to our window to take in the view.
King Henry VIII is rumored to have stayed here, in fact, the room next to us is named after him while our room is named after the Abbot he ordered to have hung and quartered.
As much as we may be feeling awestruck, it is time to walk through the streets, trying not to gawk overly much at the incredible array of colorful personalities, we have an appointment with a past life regression therapist! After all, when in Glastonbury, do as the Glastonburians do! And this is the very place to do look I into ones past life.
Post therapy, it was time for some award winning fish and chips with Scrumpy. Scrumpy is a local farm-house apple cider that we are told is so strong it is only sold to tourists in half-pints.
Mom was not fond of hers, she thought it was vinegary, I didn't mind mine:
It has been said that Scrumpy will make ones legs feel funny, but I apparently did not feel this effect so it was off for some walking and taking in the scenes before bed. Our hotel is located on High Street, a very busy and happening place.
The shops are all hippy chic and I'm certain I could spend an entire weekend or more going through these stores. The Market Cross is outside our window and is almost always the habitat of Buskers with guitars and drums.
An exhausting day means SLEEP, until 3am when we are woke to the beautiful, haunting, and slightly weird sound of a woman walking down the street under our window, singing.
Welcome to Glastonbury!