Right after we finally found a place to park and were lugging a baby and one heavy camera in the FREEZING cold, I saw this shop. It puts all the New Age 'burgs in California to shame. In Glastonbury, even the livestock are psychic.
The biggest tourist attraction in tiny Glastonbury (pop. 6,900) is the Abbey, which is believed to be nearly 2,000 years old. Well, the real estate the ruins sit on has been developed at least that long. This was one of dozens of sandstone carvings and filagrees littering the backyards of homes in the town.
January, 2003
From inside the massive park/museum that makes up the Abbey grounds, you can look back down on Glastonbury (it's rather hilly). St. John's Church was closed while we were there. It's been vandalized in the past. To give you an idea of the size of the Abbey ruins, I shot this looking through an arch of the Abbey and the church spire is several blocks away and at least 5 stories high.
My crap photos hardly do justice. Most of these 1,000-year-old (re-built in 1180s) outer walls are 2 to 4 stories high and made out of an incredible yellow/pink/gold stone. Legend has it that King Arthur and Guinevere are buried in a tomb under the ruins.
On the edge of the Abbey park grounds there are a few new housing developments. I thought this was funny as these flats were painted a really odd and bright shade of salmon pink. Maybe they were jealous of the real estate next door?
After a sunny but arctic morning stomping around New Age Hippie Glastonbury, it was time for Corrie to shop. It was time for Vicki to feed her wee one and for Robin and me to thaw out. Glastonbury was about -5 Celsius that day. This outlet mall, in the hamlet of Street, was so much like 'Merikun malls, it depressed the hell outta me. Especially the way Robin and I got hopelessly lost looking for the girls in the maze of identical-looking stores and then got sucked into the vortex of a chocolate shop.