There are many myths and legends connected with the British Isles. These run the gantlet from the legendary Arthur, his Knights of the Round Table, Merlin and the Holy Grail to being the site of the mythic north land called Hyperborea. This enchanted land also holds many tales of ghostly specters haunting ancient ruins. One of our first destinations was Glastonbury, England rumored to have been visited by Joseph of Arimathea, the teenage Jesus and more recently a ghostly monk. I had discovered that one of the inns in Glastonbury, the George and Pilgrims, a 15th century pilgrimage or coaching inn, supposedly had a ‘haunted’ room. Both Sherry and I were excited at the thought of staying in a haunted room in England, especially in mystical Glastonbury, the rumored burial place of King Arthur.

However, this was not the only reason that we were going to visit Glastonbury. It was also the site of the sacred mound called the Tor and the Chalice Well with its healing waters. Sherry and I both thought that spiritual power was not to be found within the walls of a church but out in nature such as on top of the Tor.

As we approached Glastonbury, also known as the Glassy Isle or the Isle of Avalon, we could feel the shift in energy. It was misting and foggy. We could almost feel the veil lifting between the two worlds as if we were entering the gateway to the spirit realms. Little did we realize at the time, how true this was to be.

Checking in at the George and Pilgrims, we asked about staying in the haunted room. The innkeeper was a little taken back and surprised at our request and asked if we would first like to see the room. Climbing the creaky and slightly un-even steps to the second floor gave us the feeling of being transported back in time. The en-suite room overlooked High Street and was very quaint and acceptable with an armoire, sitting chair and bed. During the day, this would be just another ‘room at the inn.’ 

It was still early enough to climb the Tor. However, I would be sacrificing a late-afternoon run and Sherry would be giving up afternoon tea. But we decided we needed and wanted to experience this faery hill in the late afternoon—a time when the faeries would be waking up. 

In 1981 literary knowledge about the Tor was not as readily available as it is today. In addition, there was no Internet. We were not being drawn to the Tor due to mystical-spiritual writings that we had studied. We were being drawn to this mystical ‘hill’ and enchanted land totally due to the feelings within our heart. At the time we did not have any knowledge of the Tor's connection to the Archangel Mikael or to Venus as the morning star.    

Finding our way up the Tor, as well as the walk up, was not as easy as it would be today. In 1981 there were no steps or any type of formal path. The angelic hill was just a steep grassy slope with a dirt path and sheep milling all around. When we finally reached the tower on the top of the Tor, our feelings were hard to put into words. The Tor is an enigma but to us it felt like a ‘coming home.’ We were the only humans in sight having the magic of this faery mound totally to ourselves. With daylight fading slowly through the mist, it was an enchanted moment. At any time, the Archangel Michael (Mikael) or the Faery Queen might appear. The veil separating our world from the Otherworld was thinning by the second. Little did we realize that we would have a visitor later on in the night—and one not from this world.

The tower on the summit of the Tor was all that remained of the Church of St. Michael. It was dedicated to Mikael, the Sun Archangel, known to the Celt’s as the light giver Lugh or the Sun God Bel. He was depicted on the tower weighing the souls of the dead along with an image of St. Bridget or the Celtic Bride milking her cow.

There are many myths and legends concerning the Tor. One legendary account claims that it is the gateway or passageway to Annwn, the Welsh Otherworld. This marvelous realm exists alongside ours but remains hidden from our materialistic and greed-filled world. However, at certain times and in certain places, the veil may be lifted and you may see and experience magic and the world of spirit. The Tor is one such enchanted place and the transitional times of light and dark, dawn and dusk, are two such times when the veil is thread-bare.

Being on the Tor was a magical experience for both Sherry and I. With the over-cast sky and the fine mist as the background, we could easily feel the mystical power that supposedly drew spiritual and religious leaders here as far back as 5000 BCE. After time spent meditating and connecting with the energetic forces, we finally pulled ourselves off of this place of mystery and magic and headed back to our room at the George and Pilgrims. After a wonderful dinner at the inn, we retired to our room for a well-deserved sleep.

Part 3 The Ghostly Monk