After the party's over Somerset still has lots to offer, as Gavin McOwan finds out on a tour of the county with Glastonbury festival founder Michael Eavis
More Somerset tips from celebrities and local experts
'I've got the local paper from the day I was born, and there's a letter in there complaining about pagans running around naked on Glastonbury Tor," says Michael Eavis. "So you can't blame it on us!"
I'm in Glastonbury with the founder of the 43-year-old festival, discussing the town's propensity to attract hedonists and bohemians.
Eavis was born at the family farm just east of Glastonbury in 1935, 35 years before the first Glastonbury festival, which proves his point that any link between the freaks who populate the town and those who descend on the festival each year is purely coincidental. It seems hippies, crusties, new-agers and the like were being drawn to Glastonbury many decades, or even centuries, before such labels had even been concocted.
The Tor is at the focal point of the many mysteries that have surrounded the area for millennia: Avalon became associated with Glastonbury in the 12th century, when monks at the abbey claimed to have discovered the remains of King Arthur and Queen Guinevere; legend has it that Joseph of Arimathea travelled here after Jesus's crucifixion; and archaeological evidence suggests this was a sacred region from as early as 4000BC.
By the late 19th century, when the Victorians were busy elaborating Celtic mythology, the area's reputation as a spiritual, utopian community was well-established. Today, parts of Somerset, such as the towns of Frome and Bruton, are becoming fashionable and attracting pop stars and designers from London, but the hippy element remains strong, particularly in Glastonbury itself. The druids and the goddess worshippers have never really gone away.
Michael has agreed to spend a morning showing me around this patch of the county in his old red Land Rover, pointing out attractions that are overlooked by the festival-goers. With many people now spending a whole week at the festival, it's a shame, he says, that more don't bother to leave it and spend a little time exploring the county's ancient myths and natural understated beauty.
And outside of festival time, most tourists tend to miss out Somerset altogether, bombing through it on the M5 on their way to the more obvious charms of Devon and Cornwall.
"Somerset isn't chichi pretty like Devon and Cornwall," says Michael. "It's a real, working county." Or, as a friend of his we bump into puts it: "It's not all cream teas and National-Trusted up [like its tourist-orientated neighbouring counties]. You have to dig a little here, but there's plenty of soul under the grunge."
We began our search in Burnham-on-Sea, Michael's favourite Somerset spot, a quintessentially English seaside resort with a faded Victorian promenade.
"For me this place is about the whole history of coming here as a kid, on the train with Sunday school: sandcastle competitions on the beach, saying grace before we ate our jam tarts. And later I did all my courting in Burnham. It's a very humble place. There's no razzmatazz. It's laid-back and unspoilt – which is why I still love it. I come back every couple of weeks to walk the dogs out to the lighthouse."
Burnham seems to have changed little since those Sunday school outing days, apart from a concrete sea wall built to protect the town from the tides. On the other side is a long dramatic sweep of empty sandy beach, with a distinctive nine-legged wooden lighthouse and views out to the mudflats and south Wales on the other side of the Bristol Channel.
"The putting green's gone now …" Michael muses as we leave Burnham and turn inland to the Somerset Levels. The locals often call this area the Moors, even though much of this unique landscape – one of the lowest, flattest areas in the country – lies below sea level. In ancient times this land, being too wet to be used in winter, was called the Summerlands, which is possibly the origin of the name Somerset. We zigzag through a tapestry of fields of sheep and Scottish longhorn cattle and farming villages to the Natural England visitor centre at Shapwick Heath, which covers over 500 acres and contains the Sweet Track, a Neolithic causeway built in 3806BC, one of the oldest roads in the world.
"This is what the Levels is all about," says Michael. "Here you've got a combination of wildlife and birds as well as history. It's full of birdsong in spring: there are cuckoos everywhere. You can walk for miles from here on trails they've created on recycled plastic pallets. You can watch the otters, which have taken off big time here … In fact they are multiplying at such a rate I fear the fisherman will say enough's enough … which is why the otters were done away with in the first place!"
Another recent addition to the area's wildlife is the enormous murmurations of starlings who migrate to the Levels in winter and fill the skies at sunset with spectacular aerial displays. "The starlings are a huge draw in Somerset now," says Michael. "Millions of them come to roost in the reeds. I love to see them, but for a farmer they're trouble – they'll eat all your maize."
Most of Michael's observations are peppered with references to farming and the county's strong work ethic. "Not much unemployment around here, I'll tell you," he says proudly as he waves to an old farming colleague. "We're busy all the time."
And no one more so than Michael. He has squeezed in our meeting between being the after-dinner speaker at the county's beekeepers' convention the night before and an engagement with the Diocese of Somerset tonight. And then there's the festival to plan …
To the north of the Levels lie the Mendip Hills, the setting for Somerset's most dramatic landmark, Cheddar Gorge, the deepest canyon in Britain, the site of the Cheddar show caves and home to Britain's oldest complete human skeleton, the 9,000-year-old Cheddar Man, who was found in 1903.
"The Mendips are fantastic for walkers," says Michael. "My favourite is Ebbor Gorge, which goes from the Levels to about 300m. There are no people or buildings, just sheep. And there are some terrific views over the Levels when you get to the top of the gorge.
"I'm not really a drinker but there's an amazing pub up in the Mendips, the Hunter's Lodge Inn in Priddy (01749 672275) run by a lovely old couple." The pub is a step back in time ("They haven't mucked about with it," says Michael, approvingly), serves good local ale and attracts cavers. In fact there's a cave right outside the pub: the Hunter's Lodge Inn Sink, one of many in the area. Priddy is also home to an annual folk festival, a sheep fair, which has been held since 1348, and a summer gypsy festival which draws people from all over the country to buy and sell horses.
Back on Glastonbury High Street it seems – at least to a cynic like me – that people come from all over the country to buy hippy tat. "The shops are totally unique here" says Michael, as we walk through town. He's not wrong there. It is unlike any high street I've seen: the shops have names like Natural Roots (A Non-Toxic Salon), Hemp Avalon, Sufi Charity Shop, Man, Myth & Magik (sic), and Cat & CauLdron (sic again). It feels like it's stuck in a 1960s time warp, but there's clearly a market for all this spiritualist paraphernalia. Revealing that work ethic again, Michael says: "I've read this is the only high street in England that hasn't got a shop to let. Isn't that amazing?"
After saying goodbye to Michael I walk up the Tor, the 158m conical hill, topped by St Michael's Tower, that rises out of surrounding plains to dominate the landscape. It is easy to imagine it as it once was, rising as an island from the waters. There are no naked pagans today (it's a little early in the day, and far too cold) but it's still an evocative spot, with all its Arthurian legend and Celtic myth.
It rises in a series of seven manmade symmetrical terraces that are the Tor's oldest mystery, and from the top there are views south-east to Dorset and east to Wiltshire as well as back over the Levels we've spent the morning driving around. From here it's a patchwork of villages and fields criss-crossed with glistening irrigation channels all the way to the Bristol Channel, with the Mendips to the north and the Quantock Hills to the south. And while I'm too much of a skeptic to feel the energy of the Tor's fabled ley lines, the view from up here is quite magical.
• First Great Western (08457 000125, firstgreatwestern.co.uk) provided train travel – and will run over 50 additional trains to and from Castle Cary station during the festival (off-peak returns from London Paddington £65). Accommodation was provided by Parsonage Farm B&B (01278 733237, parsonfarm.co.uk, doubles £65 B&B) in Over Stowey, which has views of Glastonbury Tor Reported by guardian.co.uk 11 hours ago.
More Somerset tips from celebrities and local experts
'I've got the local paper from the day I was born, and there's a letter in there complaining about pagans running around naked on Glastonbury Tor," says Michael Eavis. "So you can't blame it on us!"
I'm in Glastonbury with the founder of the 43-year-old festival, discussing the town's propensity to attract hedonists and bohemians.
Eavis was born at the family farm just east of Glastonbury in 1935, 35 years before the first Glastonbury festival, which proves his point that any link between the freaks who populate the town and those who descend on the festival each year is purely coincidental. It seems hippies, crusties, new-agers and the like were being drawn to Glastonbury many decades, or even centuries, before such labels had even been concocted.
The Tor is at the focal point of the many mysteries that have surrounded the area for millennia: Avalon became associated with Glastonbury in the 12th century, when monks at the abbey claimed to have discovered the remains of King Arthur and Queen Guinevere; legend has it that Joseph of Arimathea travelled here after Jesus's crucifixion; and archaeological evidence suggests this was a sacred region from as early as 4000BC.
By the late 19th century, when the Victorians were busy elaborating Celtic mythology, the area's reputation as a spiritual, utopian community was well-established. Today, parts of Somerset, such as the towns of Frome and Bruton, are becoming fashionable and attracting pop stars and designers from London, but the hippy element remains strong, particularly in Glastonbury itself. The druids and the goddess worshippers have never really gone away.
Michael has agreed to spend a morning showing me around this patch of the county in his old red Land Rover, pointing out attractions that are overlooked by the festival-goers. With many people now spending a whole week at the festival, it's a shame, he says, that more don't bother to leave it and spend a little time exploring the county's ancient myths and natural understated beauty.
And outside of festival time, most tourists tend to miss out Somerset altogether, bombing through it on the M5 on their way to the more obvious charms of Devon and Cornwall.
"Somerset isn't chichi pretty like Devon and Cornwall," says Michael. "It's a real, working county." Or, as a friend of his we bump into puts it: "It's not all cream teas and National-Trusted up [like its tourist-orientated neighbouring counties]. You have to dig a little here, but there's plenty of soul under the grunge."
We began our search in Burnham-on-Sea, Michael's favourite Somerset spot, a quintessentially English seaside resort with a faded Victorian promenade.
"For me this place is about the whole history of coming here as a kid, on the train with Sunday school: sandcastle competitions on the beach, saying grace before we ate our jam tarts. And later I did all my courting in Burnham. It's a very humble place. There's no razzmatazz. It's laid-back and unspoilt – which is why I still love it. I come back every couple of weeks to walk the dogs out to the lighthouse."
Burnham seems to have changed little since those Sunday school outing days, apart from a concrete sea wall built to protect the town from the tides. On the other side is a long dramatic sweep of empty sandy beach, with a distinctive nine-legged wooden lighthouse and views out to the mudflats and south Wales on the other side of the Bristol Channel.
"The putting green's gone now …" Michael muses as we leave Burnham and turn inland to the Somerset Levels. The locals often call this area the Moors, even though much of this unique landscape – one of the lowest, flattest areas in the country – lies below sea level. In ancient times this land, being too wet to be used in winter, was called the Summerlands, which is possibly the origin of the name Somerset. We zigzag through a tapestry of fields of sheep and Scottish longhorn cattle and farming villages to the Natural England visitor centre at Shapwick Heath, which covers over 500 acres and contains the Sweet Track, a Neolithic causeway built in 3806BC, one of the oldest roads in the world.
"This is what the Levels is all about," says Michael. "Here you've got a combination of wildlife and birds as well as history. It's full of birdsong in spring: there are cuckoos everywhere. You can walk for miles from here on trails they've created on recycled plastic pallets. You can watch the otters, which have taken off big time here … In fact they are multiplying at such a rate I fear the fisherman will say enough's enough … which is why the otters were done away with in the first place!"
Another recent addition to the area's wildlife is the enormous murmurations of starlings who migrate to the Levels in winter and fill the skies at sunset with spectacular aerial displays. "The starlings are a huge draw in Somerset now," says Michael. "Millions of them come to roost in the reeds. I love to see them, but for a farmer they're trouble – they'll eat all your maize."
Most of Michael's observations are peppered with references to farming and the county's strong work ethic. "Not much unemployment around here, I'll tell you," he says proudly as he waves to an old farming colleague. "We're busy all the time."
And no one more so than Michael. He has squeezed in our meeting between being the after-dinner speaker at the county's beekeepers' convention the night before and an engagement with the Diocese of Somerset tonight. And then there's the festival to plan …
To the north of the Levels lie the Mendip Hills, the setting for Somerset's most dramatic landmark, Cheddar Gorge, the deepest canyon in Britain, the site of the Cheddar show caves and home to Britain's oldest complete human skeleton, the 9,000-year-old Cheddar Man, who was found in 1903.
"The Mendips are fantastic for walkers," says Michael. "My favourite is Ebbor Gorge, which goes from the Levels to about 300m. There are no people or buildings, just sheep. And there are some terrific views over the Levels when you get to the top of the gorge.
"I'm not really a drinker but there's an amazing pub up in the Mendips, the Hunter's Lodge Inn in Priddy (01749 672275) run by a lovely old couple." The pub is a step back in time ("They haven't mucked about with it," says Michael, approvingly), serves good local ale and attracts cavers. In fact there's a cave right outside the pub: the Hunter's Lodge Inn Sink, one of many in the area. Priddy is also home to an annual folk festival, a sheep fair, which has been held since 1348, and a summer gypsy festival which draws people from all over the country to buy and sell horses.
Back on Glastonbury High Street it seems – at least to a cynic like me – that people come from all over the country to buy hippy tat. "The shops are totally unique here" says Michael, as we walk through town. He's not wrong there. It is unlike any high street I've seen: the shops have names like Natural Roots (A Non-Toxic Salon), Hemp Avalon, Sufi Charity Shop, Man, Myth & Magik (sic), and Cat & CauLdron (sic again). It feels like it's stuck in a 1960s time warp, but there's clearly a market for all this spiritualist paraphernalia. Revealing that work ethic again, Michael says: "I've read this is the only high street in England that hasn't got a shop to let. Isn't that amazing?"
After saying goodbye to Michael I walk up the Tor, the 158m conical hill, topped by St Michael's Tower, that rises out of surrounding plains to dominate the landscape. It is easy to imagine it as it once was, rising as an island from the waters. There are no naked pagans today (it's a little early in the day, and far too cold) but it's still an evocative spot, with all its Arthurian legend and Celtic myth.
It rises in a series of seven manmade symmetrical terraces that are the Tor's oldest mystery, and from the top there are views south-east to Dorset and east to Wiltshire as well as back over the Levels we've spent the morning driving around. From here it's a patchwork of villages and fields criss-crossed with glistening irrigation channels all the way to the Bristol Channel, with the Mendips to the north and the Quantock Hills to the south. And while I'm too much of a skeptic to feel the energy of the Tor's fabled ley lines, the view from up here is quite magical.
• First Great Western (08457 000125, firstgreatwestern.co.uk) provided train travel – and will run over 50 additional trains to and from Castle Cary station during the festival (off-peak returns from London Paddington £65). Accommodation was provided by Parsonage Farm B&B (01278 733237, parsonfarm.co.uk, doubles £65 B&B) in Over Stowey, which has views of Glastonbury Tor Reported by guardian.co.uk 11 hours ago.