What a holiday!!

[alixandrea]

The holiday actually started Friday night, when Erik, Peta and I went to Vaults for serious cocktailage, followed by a visit to the Cat Perch where we met up with Mark, drank copious amounts of wine and watched DAAS generally being wonderful (as always, oh gods somebody get Paul to come over here and sing to me!!) Anyway, Erik and I went home after it all got a bit too much and the cloves and red wine cleared enough to let me actually use my limbs. I don't smoke very often, (and only clove cigs or cannabis when I do) so the sheer quantities of nicotine knocked me out somewhat worse than the red wine!

Saturday was spent bimbling around, and as time got later we decided not to leave until the next day. I got a stove and gas, washed the sleeping bags and thermal undersheet, and packed various things ready for the trek. Sunday I woke up unreasonably early, and bounced off the walls trying to do as many things as possible all at once. I get very excitable when I go on holiday... ;-) I hauled all the seats out of the back of the 'bus, and conned Erik into getting as many of the seatbelt anchors out as he could. Unfortunately they were (of course) tightened down to a deathgrip, so he only got a few out in the end, but they were exactly the ones we needed out in order to make room for the airbed. This I pumped up and covered in sleeping bags, sheets and our duvet (not taking any chances!) I then proceeded to pack everything else and hassle Erik into readiness (did I mention I was excited?!)

I know the drive down to our first destination - Avebury - practically better than any other, and we took a nice leisurely cruise. M11, M25, M4 (stop at Reading services) get off onto the A4 earlier than I used to so we can take in Newbury and see the devastation caused by That Road (grrr!) then on past The Sanctuary, Silbury Hill and West Kennet Long Barrow into Avebury village. There was plenty of room for the van in the pub car park, so we pulled up there and had a look around the main circle before the cold drove us inside. Dinner consisted of venison (for me) and wild boar (for Erik) pies with chips and veg. Truly gorgeous! We stayed until closing, then drove back to the car park at Silbury Hill, where we made tea before going to bed, fully clothed and still shivering! This first night was probably the worst - we had no facilities (just a screen of trees) and the temperature dropped to around -2. When we got up in the morning, the water left in the bottom of the pan from the previous night was frozen.

We had bacon butties and more tea for breakfast, and the heat from the stove warmed us enough that we could put clean clothes on. Unfortunately it also made us reek of frying! After checking the oil and water, Erik topped up the radiator, then I started the 'bus. She choked a little then sprang into life, and I was grateful for the heater and the strong sunlight which warmed us in a surprisingly short period of time. We drove up to The Sanctuary, which I hadn't actually ever stopped at before, and wandered around its perimeter. Then we drove back past Silbury Hill into Avebury village, deciding Erik's casts would probably make walking up to the Long Barrow a little more difficult than necessary. It was still cold out, so we sat in a window at the pub and Erik drew a couple of the stones from there. Early that afternoon we set off again, towards Glastonbury.

We got there in time to do some shopping, and bought an unfinished sheepskin rug for the van, at the princely cost of £20. Bargain! Wandered around the town some, got wines and mead, then spent the evening in the youth hostel bar. We asked there about camp sites and got directed to one not far out of town, which we headed off to not long after (I was starting to worry about the van being parked in the carpark at Safeway.) I picked up some more bread and eggs at the supermarket before we left. The campsite itself was nice, the facilities spotless and we got a place near to the block after I pointed out Erik's casts. That evening we opened the mead and a bottle of apple wine - the first alcohol I'd had since before we left... I slept better that night! Morning was cold once again, and we had to scrape the frost from the windscreen. Breakfast involved more tea and bacon, this time with eggs. Nothing sets you up better for the day than a nice greasy fry-up, especially when the eggs are free range and the meat is non-intensively farmed! ;-) We pottered back into Glasto, picked up more wine (cranberry and elderberry) as well as goats cheese and biltong. The shops by this time were getting very samey, so we got a couple of books (a SchNews of the World from 2001 for me, as a memory of a truly extraordinary year - both for myself and the world at large) had a couple of drinks (J20 for me ;-\) in the magnificent old building that was 'The George and Pilgrim' then set out (via the spring to get some water - but sadly not via the tor itself) once again for Cornwall.

It was obvious that I wouldn't get to see my beloved Tamar river on the way into Cornwall, as we were heading towards Tintagel on the North Coast. Settling for the A30 at the end of the M5, we went over the top of Dartmoor, refuelling at the next garage after the M5 services (I'd refused to go in there due to it being E$$0, unfortunately so was the next one, but by this time we were running low... :-( ) and missing the scenery entirely as by this time it was dark. And raining. Bloody Cornish weather always manages to rain on me! Driving the 'bus became a little more stressful and challenging although most of this was really due to my lack of recent experience driving in those conditions. The last minor roads into Tintagel itself were rather hairy, but I managed with the help of Erik's map reading and we parked up in the main carpark, checking out the nearest hotel for free rooms as Erik wanted a B&B for the night. I had to walk around a bit before I found one with a spare room, but it was a truly beautiful little place, a 14th century coaching inn with its own private carpark, (nightmare getting the beast both in and out of!) good food and warm reception. The rooms were reached by means of a tiny back stair, and the shared bathroom was several fabulous little corridors away. It really was a lovely little place. Sleeping in a real bed was luxurious, although I'm told I was restless with dreams that night! Having a shower was likewise wonderful and it was a welcome break from sleeping in an un-finished camper.

The next morning we had a classic English Breakfast, then set out to explore the little town I've only been to a couple of times. The shops had so many lovely things in, but many were much of a muchness, and we soon got bored of looking at pewter statues. Then the most amazing thing happened...

At this point I have to fit in a brief flashback to my days as a re-enactor. The last one I did was at some random castle in Kent (I forget which one...) There was quite a reasonable-sized fair at this one, with several marquees. I had been wandering around them and got to the end, when I came across a stall with some remarkable artwork on it - artwork I recognised. It was the work of the first Fantasy artist I was ever aware of, and still my favourite, one Peter Pracownik. Anyway, I was enchanted to find out that the man himself was there, and not only that, he was incredibly friendly. I ended up helping him and his lady Jasmine out on the stall that day, and he was kind enough to give me a signed copy of his Earth Dragon poster (which is currently up on the bathroom door) as well as an invite to one of his exhibitions. I never made it down to see him unfortunately as it was the time of the petrol crisis, and I would have needed more than a tank of fuel in a mini to get there...

Back to the present day. Erik and I were in the Spar shop looking for supplies. There at the counter was stood a thin, oldish guy, with a shock of dark grey hair, an impish face and glittering eyes. I stared at him, turned away in disbelief. turned back...
'Peter?' I said.
'Yes.' he replied.
'Do you remember me?'
'Yes, I do...'
I knew he lived near Tintagel, but hadn't thought I'd just meet him there! And I met the guy once, and he remembered me! In fact, he gave us his number and directions to his house, inviting us in for a cup of tea if we happened to be passing. We wandered around the town for a while more, took a brief look at the coastline but decided not to try to walk there (I'll take Erik back to all these places when he's healed enough to hike...) then decided to take Pete up on his offer. He lives at Trevalga Manor, which is just a couple of miles out of Tintagel itself. It's right on the cliff overlooking the wild Atlantic, and reached by a tiny farm track, through the farm itself in fact. Unfortunately, the route was blocked by a machine loading hay bales up into a barn, so I had to turn the van around in the most unimaginably tiny space - it took about a 20 point turn to get it round! - then go a different way past the old church and onto Pete's drive. This itself was a truly taxing task, the path (and it was little more than that) was only as wide as the van. We managed to pick up some bits of Rhododendron and various brambles, as well as knocking the nearside wing mirror out of position. Still, we got there. The door was opened by Pete's little boy, now 6 years old and a sight bigger than when I last saw him! Oisin led us a mysterious dance around the house before finally heading upstairs to Pete's living room, presenting him with the bottle of Elderberry wine when we got there.

Pete is an old stoner, one of the many talented people who have worked with Hawkwind, and a wonderfully warm person. He now lives without Jasmine (I was sad to learn she'd left him only recently) but still has his little boy, and a lodger friend who does all the computer work, scanning and manipulating images, as well as doing all the website stuff. He showed us folders full of his work, including the art he's done for Darkside Clothing. the view from his bathroom window has to be seen to be believed, he really does live in the most amazing place, although it is a bit out-of-the-way to say the least! Mind you, you can see where he gets the influence for some of his art, looking out at that sea...

Peter offered us a room for the night, but we had to leave as the weather was closing in and we had to get across Bodmin moor to our next destination before it got too dark. That was, of course, my old haunt of St. Austell, not far from Les's parents' house. I was hoping there would be a film on at the cinema there, but there was nothing of much interest on, so we had a swift drink in the nearest pub, and went back to Par beach, another well-known place to me, where there is a large caravan park. Here we stayed the night (again, right next to the facilities block ;-) ) and opened the bottle of Cranberry wine. This was fairly strong and incredibly heady - it had me giggling like a mad thing! The night was warmer, although very very wet indeed, and the bus started the next morning after some effort (she doesn't like the wet much it would seem...)

Our next destination was The Eden Project. I'd seen it being built the last time I was in Cornwall, but hadn't ever had the opportunity to look around it finished. I drove us up there via the route that takes us right past my grandparents' farmhouse. I wanted to see if I could do it. I was very nervous, and scared that at any moment they might turn out of their drive as we went past. But they didn't, and the sense of accomplishment went beyond the simple task of driving past the place. I was reclaiming a road for myself, a place I knew so well, and had been denied these past few years by memories and ill feelings. I was going that way for me, and me only, taking a route I kew well to a destination of my own choice. It was strangely liberating...

Eden is built in an old china clay pit, a disused quarry that was once desolate, scarred landscape. In this, they tamed the water (the bottom of the pit was originally below the water table) and the land around, building terraces leading down to two vast biodomes, linked by the reception and restaurant areas. The shop and main entrance is at the top of the quarry, and you can get down there by land train or walking. We chose to walk down, past well labelled, meticulously planted terraces, getting rained on and soaked. In fact, it rained for most of the day, but that didn't stop the people coming. Eden is truly a wonderful success story - one of the chief gardeners at the Lost Garden of Heligan realised the potential of such a site, and set out to create something amazing - a place for people to learn about the world we live in, how much we rely on plants, all the different crops that are grown around the world, and more about the people behind them. Tish, you would truly love this place, and we have to go there together for ideas for our project. One of the biodomes is temperate, the other tropical, and the most incredible range of plants is grown in each. I wish I'd been able (and in a better mood) to explore it all on a deeper level, but the quantity of people (and lack of decent sleep) got to me a little. I'd love to go there in high season when more workshops are held, although I don't even dare to think about how many people would be there then... We had lunch in one of the two restaurants - all the food was locally-sourced and totally conscious with regard to organic/traditional farming, food miles and GMOs. This meant I could quite happily enjoy my Thai Red Chicken, without being worried about how well the chicken had been looked after... I also had olives, grown in the temperate biodome. :-) The soil they use is reclaimed and composted, the water used to flush the toilets and water the plants is from their own systems, taken from the bowl the place is set in and cleaned. They are a waste neutral site, recycling and composting everything they can... What a place!!

I could spend pages listing all the plants grown there, explaining how useful and important they are. There were herbs, fruits and veg in the temperate dome, spices, rices, coffee and cola in the tropical dome. Cures for cancers, building materials, bananas of all shapes and sizes. They even had Datura, which I have recently developed a bit of a fascination for (Tish, you know why! ;-) ) and I almost bought a plant in the shop (it would have been a pain to transport home unfortunately...) I did however get a book on prehistoric cooking, complete with recipies, and the obligatory t-shirt. I want to go again and again - next time I plan to take some plant people with me!

We had decided to go back to Glastonbury for more mead, wine, cheese, biltong, and a Goddess pendant I had seen there. We'd already eaten all the biltong we'd bought (gorgeous stuff, but very more-ish) as well as the cheese, and drunk most of the wine/mead. However, one thing we needed to do at this point was put some oil in the 'bus. She'd been run down to halfway by Tintagel, but we hadn't been able to figure out how to get oil in her there. After making a bit of a mess of the carburettor (and managing to clean it out luckily!) we had decided to wait until we found a garage. I knew there had been one just over the railway line near the farmhouse, and it was still there. I did my useless female act (I actually felt very embarrassed) and got shown that in fact the cap we'd thought was the right one really was, it just pulled off rather than unscrewing... The guy was nice and didn't rib me too much - he even filled up the oil for me. Good thing too, we were about to run out!

The hill out of St Blazey Gate is a 10%, and the bus was complaining a little by the time we reached the top. Its at times like those I wish we had a diesel, but unleaded at least doesn't spit out particulates... She's a good machine though, handling the trip magnificently with barely a grumble. There are a lot of hills in the Westcountry! Anyway, we headed Northeast up the A38, right up to the Tamar and over my beloved bridge. When I was a little girl I used to cheer every time we went over that bridge into Cornwall, I knew we were finally there whenever we reached it. It was dusk as we drove across, the sky deep velvet blue and lights sparkling like jewels below us - although the view is magnificent at any time of day.

Back to Glastonbury. We stayed another night in the same campsite as before, and got up early. By now it was Friday, and I had to be back in time for a gig that night. The goddess figure in town was unfortunately far too expensive for what it was (ceramic, not carved malachite as I had first thought) so I didn't get her. I am, however, resolved to making my own now. We did get hold of the other items though, as well as some buffalo sausages and wild boar and apple burgers. I look forward to trying both!

The drive back was wonderful. Late morning on Samhain, the mists dancing in the fields, the trees all aflame with the colours of a dying Autumn. We said goodbye to the smaller roads as we hit the A303, heading to Stonehenge. Here we stopped, but didn't go into the visitor centre. I talked to Erik about the acoustic properties of the stone, the amazing feeling of being a part of the Solstice gathering. We looked at the alignments (as well as we could from behind a chain-link fence) then went back to the van. We will go there again, at Solstice time if they'll open it up again. It really is an amazing place, although Erik said he was more impressed by Avebury, and I have to confess I am to a certain extent also. But then the area around Avebury is littered with major archaeological finds, which does add to its grandeur a little...

Another stop at the M3 Fleet services, traffic jams on the M25 (what a surprise!) and a brief visit to the loos at Birchangar later, then we were finally home. I even had enough time to have a shower before soundcheck. the gig itself (at The Man On The Moon) was OK, not brilliant, but it almost didn't feel real by this time as all the driving had caught up on me. Still, there were plenty of people there, and many were dancing, despite us being only the second band on. I rambled too much about Eden, but my imagination really has been caught by the place. It's a shame I was so tired, it was Shauny's birthday and Samhain as well. Still, the holiday, being on the road, finally owning my own van, and being able to do things I've been wanting to do for so long was very, very much worth it... :-)

Merry Samhain people, happy New Year!