The next morning we were up early for a full course English breakfast cooked up by our landlady and, with her borrowed umbrella, set out to catch our bus for a tour of Stonehenge. We passed Old Sarum on the way (which we would visit later that afternoon) and arrived at the visitors centre after a half hour bus ride, the wide open spaces of Salisbury Plain stretching off in all directions. We took a little tram to the site and, as we approached the familiar circle of stone standing in the distance, the rain stopped and the clouds lifted from the green fields. Hordes of other tourists joined us as we walked slowly up to these ancient and mysterious 4000 year-old blue stones. I couldn't help thinking again as I had done so many times recently how
everything in England is old and filled with legends and myths. Likewise these giant sarsen stones crouching here on the open countryside. For reasons I couldn't explain I didn't get the same feeling when I saw them for the first time as I had when I first laid eyes on the Sagrada Familia in Barcelona, or even my initial glimpse of the majestic heaven-reaching spire of Salisbury cathedral. Perhaps the anticipation had been dampened by the weather or the number of people there. I had to remind myself this is one of the most famous sites in the world. Marie had looked forward to visiting here for many years and I could see she was totally absorbed in her own experience.
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| waiting for the bus in Salisbury city centre |
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| arriving at Stonehenge |
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| north-east side |
Close to the roped off area I stood next to the Heel Stone, a rough stone 16 feet above ground which leans in toward the main stone circle and felt its surface as probably many thousands of others have done before me. Off in the distance sheep were grazing in the lush Wiltshire fields. At the summer solstice if I stood within the circle and looked north east through the entrance I would be able to see the sun rise above this heel stone. There is an arrow there to show the direction the sun moves. This place is full of legends and rumours of Druid sacrifices but I won't go into that here. There is a mystical atmosphere you can feel if you step back and find a quiet spot to think and use your own imagination as to why and how these blocks of stone made their way from the Welsh mountains to their final resting place.
England had had a very rainy winter this year so some of the pathways were shut off and because of this I was able to get some good shots without people in them. Some of the photos look as if we are the only ones there (wishful thinking) but even hundreds more were coming up the pathway when we headed back to the main centre to catch the bus. A guide told me the fine to go into the circle is 3000 pounds and the day we were there few if any took up the challenge. Thankfully we didn't need our brolley after all and I hoped the rain would stay away when we were next dropped off at the bottom of the hill near Old Sarum. We headed up the stony path to the top, and as if to welcome us to this old settlement, the sun came out!
gws
