Glastonbury Memories, Part II: The Chalice Well Gardens

On the morning of the day (in November, 2012) I left Glastonbury for Brighton (a three hour sprint across the south country by highway) I visited the Chalice Well Gardens, at the foot of the Tor. This is a very spiritual place, maintained as such, a meditation park open to the public, and served with shop and meeting room, a supporting society and a worldwide cadre of enchanted followers.

It is indeed an amazing place, and I had it almost to myself on that cool, grey morning. I left my luggage at the George & Pilgrim Hotel after an early breakfast and checkout, then walked the kilometre or so south-east of town, past the famous Rifleman’s Arms pub, and found myself in a truly wonderful place.

This is where the ancient legend really comes into focus. In Celtic lore, springs were holy places, and the local aquifer comes to the surface here in a spring that has run since Arthurian times and probably a great deal longer than that. The ground has iron deposits and they play their role in the lore, that Joseph of Arimathea brought the Holy Grail to a hiding place in England among the earliest Christian devotees. Thus, the iron-rich water that comes to the surface carries with it the taste of blood – that the blood of Christ is the iron in the water.

It stains the collecting ponds a deep and rusty red and visitors are cautioned to drink only a tiny amount as the mineral concentration may be harmful in quantity. Of course one tastes it, how could one not? I will never forget the blood-like tang.

The gardens were green and damp in the heavy weather, not many flowers were in bloom at such a time of year but the park was quiet and very peaceful. I remember sitting in a small, rustic shelter as rain fell softly, overlooking the green tangles and walks, and having many deep thoughts.

This was one of those moments one is in two minds about – is it better shared or experienced alone? To be alone with one’s thoughts is a very pure state, but perhaps company would bring it a new dimension. To wander those paths was to walk in the footsteps of millions over the last eight hundred years, I was very aware of this, and soaked in the atmosphere – from the ancient stonework to the ammonites embedded in the paths – which held religious significance in centuries gone by. Though it is a designed, tended garden, one feels nature very close, and it seems all faith can equally share in the energies of the spot. From various points you can see the tower of St. Michael at the summit of the Tor, which truly doubles the impact.

I stayed some hours before reluctantly making my way back to the hotel on High St. in the early afternoon to collect my luggage and meet a friend who had kindly offered me a lift across country to Brighton for the second show in the band’s tour, that evening. We met in the car park of Glastonbury Abbey and I had to admit to myself, I certainly packed a lot into those brief days!

Mike Adamson

Halls Gap ... "Under the Mountain," literally!

The Village of Halls Gap lies in a pass in the Grampians, quite literally "under the mountain," and often invisible in the morning mist. Here, we see it from Boroka Lookout, in late March 2019...

Driving into the village, you're tremendously aware of being in a mountain pass. The walls rise like ramparts, almost at the bottom of people's back gardens...

From the street -- where you'll find everything you could possibly need, from a newsagent to a supermarket, by way of cafes and ice cream parlor -- just look up under those vines:

The view from the roadside is spectacular!

There's more to Halls Gap than, at first, you assume. Quiet streets angle back from Grampians Road, which is the main thoroughfare, into woodland that's abundant in wildlife, right in the village.

On misty mornings (of which there will be many), Halls Gap drowses like Brigadoon until the sun burns off the fog ...

Up on Boroka Lookout here, it's already sunny (if not quite warm! You're 616 meters high), but if you look off to the left side, you can see the mist that still fills the gap --

...yes, Halls Gap is down there. Did I say Brigadoon?! Magical.

Having arrived in the village, you have about a hundred choices of where to stay. This was ours:

We booked a log cabin at the aptly named Halls Gap Log Cabins ... one word: fantastic! First, there are kangaroos, wallabies, emus, bilbies, in your backyard --

And perhaps just as importantly, the cabins are absolutely luxurious, with a combustion heater, TV/DVD, full size fridge, queen size bed, spa bath ... the works:

You might be in a village in the mountains, but you're certainly not roughing it! (Though there's plenty of that, if you want it: caravanning and camping are very well catered to.)

Now, what about dining out? We did brunch at Harvest, and dinner at Darcy's, which is the restaurant attached to the Comfort Inn...

The food is excellent, and in the evening, long after the sun is down, the grounds around Darcy's, back and front of the Comfort Inn, are thronged with grazing wallabies and kangaroos:

Check out the roo getting a drink at the fountain there! Too cute.

The cultural heart of Halls Gap is Brambuk, where 'Grampians' becomes 'Gariwerd,' and the country's original owners' voice speaks clearly:

We need to set aside a whole afternoon for Brambuk. There's far too much to see and do than you could manage by strolling through. Also, a very nice cafe and the usual gift shop.

On the way out of town...

Lake Bellfield is a man-made lake ... the reservoir serving Halls Gap and the surrounding area. Completed in 1966, just 18 years before Grampians National Park was declared. In Victoria, swimming and sailing are allowed on many of the reservoirs ... wish we did this in SA!

Leaving Halls Gap --

-- the only question is, where are we going today? Hang a right, head for the national park, and keep the cameras handy, because every time you come around a bend in the road, something spectacular happens...