Avebury Summer Solstice was a distinct experience. On the 20th June after having walked the entirety of the Ridgeway, we gathered in Aveburys Red Lion public house to have a few drinks. For some it was a social drink, for others it was a reason to get rat-arsed or to fuel some warmth for the cool long night ahead. A group of bongo drummers kept the customers entertained, beating a constant rhythm that sounded out across the whole of Avebury. A lone guitarist trailed behind them wherever they set up attempting to jam but was constantly drowned out by the drummers. Occasionally you could hear a few chords of Stairway to Heaven between drumming sessions. An aging grey bearded guitarist drifted between the inside and outside of the pub relentlessly playing three songs over and over again - one being "If I was a carpenter" and the other couple being some bluesy stuff which I did not recognize. No-one took any notice of him. Eventually he found a table of merry individuals who applauded his performance which seemed to be the adulation that he was after. He sat with them, his new found fans, and shut up, probably to the delight of many other drinkers.
The pub was pretty full, but certainly not overflowing as we had expected. I put this down to the bad weather coupled with Glastonbury being held at the weekend which would attract many of those who would otherwise have descended upon Avebury. In the evening a group of weird and wonderful characters dressed in various bits of vegetation wandered through. They were part of a troupe of jugglers and performers who later held a performance within the inner stone circle - I missed this but was told it was a worthwhile sight.
Once the pub had called time we joined the throngs of people camped out under the stars within the stone circle. We didnt bother pitching the tents, just pulled them out of their bags and lay on them in our sleeping bags, staring at the stars. It wasnt easy to sleep in the cold open air and I cant really remember any sleep but was told that there was a lot of snoring coming from my bag - it must have been either me or one of the many beetles that invaded our bags, occasionally taking a bite out of an unsuspecting hosts flesh.
At half past three in the morning people were slowly getting themselves prepared for sunrise. When you want to shift your arse at that time of the morning the body generally says "piss off" and it was certainly saying something like that to me. Half past three on a cold morning is curl up and sleep time. Nonetheless, undeterred I forced myself to pack my gear into the rucksack and follow sheepishly the throngs that were moving to the perimeter earth bank in preparation for the mornings main event.
The eastern side of the earth bank was full of people glaring to the clear horizon as the light slowly started to fill the heavens. I stood there wondering why we were all doing this - I could stand on the shingle beach at Sizewell any day of the year and watch the sun arise from the North Sea in the peace and quiet of my own company. I could pay homage to the solstice in harmony at Sizewell - so could anyone else - so why Avebury? Why were these folk enticed to this place - just because it has ancient standing stones, whose original purpose has never been clear. I certainly hadnt felt any ancient magic or inner ancestral oneness with the place. It was just a piece of ancient history to me.
For some strange reason I thought the sun was due to rise at 4:20. That would have been superb with the clear sky, but it soon became clear that the moment was not due until nearly 5am by which time clouds were filling the horizon from the south. When the moment came there was no clear sky left but as the crowds prepared to leave a gap appeared in the clouds and for a few seconds we managed to catch a glimpse of two thirds of the golden globe spreading its warming rays towards us. Cameras flashed. Hands clapped. Cheers erupted. Then it was gone once again as more clouds covered the moment like a final curtain.
Back in the stone circle some guy with grey flowing beard and robes took precedence over a pagan ceremony - inviting guests to speak or play songs to a gathered audience. He completed the ceremony with words of invocation, thanking the earth for the solstice. It did strike me that these pagans seemed to borrow a lot from modern Christian ceremony. As the proceedings came to an end a vast rainbow filled the western sky against a backdrop of dark clouds. It was a wonderful sight to see, and I could hear members of the crowd speaking as if it was some pagan sign, some kind of approval from the earthen deity to the faithful.
As folk started wandering aimlessly away I couldnt help but notice that a lot of these hippies were clutching tins of cider in their hands. It was nearly 6am and people were hard-drinking. I couldnt quite grasp this - I thought these people had come here for some spiritual awakening but it seemed a lot were here for a big piss-up. Cider-swilling hippies. Just loads of cider-swilling hippies. No soul. no spirit. Just cider-swilling hippies.
I must admit by now I was dog tired. I spent the next two hours layed out on the picnic bench in front of the visitors cafe draped in a sleeping bag looking like a tramp. I remember two policemen coming over. I lifted an eyelid. They smiled!
Before the day was out, as we sheltered from the constant showers in the wind-shadow of one of the stones we bore witness to a goth wedding complete with King Arthur of the Britains, Merlin and a load of weirdly dressed up folk. For some I am certain that this is just a big piece of play acting or escapism. I had to laugh. Its not often you see Arther, King of the Britains conducting a marriage service. I bet he didnt do that centuries ago in real life. I bet this Arthur wasn't really a King, I bet he was an estate agent from Spalding, and Merlin was a shop assistent from Cambridge. I am sure they would return next year to do much the same - drink cider and be pretend to be the returning Saviour of Britain.
It certainly was an experience. Would I go again? Well, whilst I was there, I was of definite opinion that it was all a load of crap and I personally wouldnt want to step foot on Avebury at solstice ever again, but on reflection, why not - maybe I will learn something, maybe there are a few sincere people there and its not all cider-swilling hippies.
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