Hitting The Heights With The Stars In Somerset

Minehead, Somerset, England

I've been away for a short holiday to Minehead, Somerset. As my blogging friend Daz, from Just Watching The Wheels Go Round, often mentions gigs he has seen over in Australia, I thought I'd better show a few of the ones I saw while away.

Yes, it really is Fireman Sam live on stage - but there was much more to follow ...

... Yep, it's Barney the Dinosaur - who seems to have got at least one girl dancing excitedly on stage, and there's more ...

... Thomas the Tank Engine live - how do they manage that! And on the same evening, on another stage, we saw ...

... the Sesame Street characters and - if that wasn't enough - on the next evening there was a pantomime ...

... of Beauty and the Beast. Not too sure why this necessitated cupcakes, teapots and cups as hats but the audience liked it - and so did I.

This was, of course, all really for children and my VIP, small grandson Samuel, had a good time, though his three month old sister perhaps wasn't quite so impressed. Pantomimes seem to be a British thing and they are the first taste of the theatre for many children - and watching something live is always special.

Karin and I enjoyed our week in Minehead, Somerset. The sun shone for us. The sky was blue and we managed a couple of walks along a small part of the West Somerset Coastal Path.

Start of the West Somerset Coastal Path

There were no coincidences or synchronicities while we were away but, being with all of my family, was just perfect. I didn't need anything else. Oh, nearly forgot ...

... Bob the Builder was there too. Life doesn't get much better!

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A Final Coincidence From Somerset - Probably

I thought I had covered all of the coincidences and synchronicity I had while on my break in Somerset, until today that is.

Karin and I walked to the local shop to buy a newspaper and on the way back met a man we often see as he walks his dog. We aren't exactly sure where he lives, but it's somewhere nearby. We got chatting and he told us he was off to Turkey in a couple of weeks for a holiday and we mentioned our recent stay in Somerset.

"Where in Somerset?" he asked.

"A small village called Roadwater," we answered.

"Whereabouts in Roadwater?"

And we told him the name of the house, as in the above photo.

He then explained that the house used to belong to his wife's grandparents or it might have been great grandparents, I can't quite remember.

"But," I said, "the owner of the house has lived there for over 30 years."

"That's right," he agreed and went on to explain how his wife used to spend her summers there forty years ago as a child. Her relatives were well known in the village.

Coincidences like this still amaze me. Just shows the links that are all around us without us realising. If he hadn't have mentioned Turkey we probably wouldn't have said anything about Roadwater in Somerset. It's a funny old world.

Part of the garden in Roadwater Somerset

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The Giants Of Somerset

The moors of Somerset and the south-west of England were once inhabited by giants - yes really, if you believe in magic that is. But there is proof.

Look at the photo of Porlock church, Somerset above and then the picture below of nearby Culbone Church and you'll see the work of one of the giants. It's all in the church spires.

One of the giants snapped the top off the spire of Porlock's 13th century St Dubricius church, tucked it under his arm, and plonked it on the top of Culbone Church. The size was just right as this is the smallest parish church in England.

So there you are proof that giants weren't all bad.

Porlock's St Dubricius has another claim to fame. He was the guy who is said to have crowned none other than King Arthur at Caerleon in Wales and later married him to Guinevere.

Inside St Dubricius Church Porlock Somerset England

And there's another story: a person from Porlock also had an effect on Samuel Taylor Coleridge's famous poem Kubla Khan. If this person hadn't have interrupted Coleridge the poem would be longer than 54 lines.

Coleridge dreamt the poem. These are his own words as to why he was unable to write all that he had seen in his sleep:

"In 1797 ... On awakening he appeared to himself to have a distinct recollection of the whole (poem), and taking his pen, ink, and paper, instantly and eagerly wrote down the lines that are here preserved. At this moment he was unfortunately called out by a person on business from Porlock, and detained by him above an hour, and on his return to his room, found, to his now small surprise and mortification, that though he still retained some vague and dim recollection of the general purport of the vision, yet, with the exception of some eight or ten scattered lines and images, all the rest had passed away like the images on the surface of a stream into which a stone had been cast ..."

It is generally thought that Coleridge had an opium influenced dream and that the unwelcome intrusion of the person from Porlock was someone from the Ship Inn, the oldest pub in the town, wanting him to settle his overdue bar bill.

Somerset, like Cornwall where I live, is full of legends, myths and history.

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Synchronicity Starts With Samuel Taylor Coleridge

It was the first full day of our break in Somerset and the morning was dark, dismal and raining. Never ones to let the weather get the better of us we headed to the nearby small coastal town of Watchet. As we walked in the drizzle by the harbour we came across a statue of the Ancient Mariner. This was in respect of the poem of the same by Samuel Taylor Coleridge.

I said to Karin that my mum liked reading Coleridge, especially the poems The Rime of the Ancient Mariner and Kubla Khan. I thought no more about this but when I got back to our car I realised that a trashy paperback I was reading was also by someone named Coleridge: Nicholas Coleridge.

The afternoon brightened up and we walked along the shore line past many beaches full of pebbles. That's where I took the above photo.

In the evening, when we got back to our accommodation, I was looking at some leaflets the owner had left for us. And one of these was regarding the 'Coleridge Way'. This is about 'Following In The Footsteps of the Romantic Poet Samuel Taylor Coleridge 1772 -1834'. So that was why there was a statue of the Ancient Mariner in Watchet.

It seems that Coleridge lived in this area at a place called Nether Stowey and the Coleridge Way goes right past where we were staying at Roadwater. We were literally on the Coleridge Way. I didn't know any of this until I read the leaflet while sitting in the corner seat below.

Next to the chair was a small corner table, which can't be seen in the photo. On this table, left by the owner, was a book called Bambi and Me. As I mentioned in my post Memories Of Bambi this animal has sentimental links for me to my mum.

So, putting the synchronicity all together: we see a statue of the Ancient Mariner at Watchet in recognition of one of my mother's favourite poets Samuel Coleridge. I just happen to be reading a book by Coleridge. On returning back to where we were staying I find out there's a 'Coleridge Way' passing yards from where I was sitting - and next to me was a book about Bambi, which links me again back to my mother.

Chance happenings? I don't think so. There's more to it than that, but I'll leave readers to draw their own conclusions.

And changing the subject completely, while in Watchet we came across this tiny lock up jail used prior to the 1800s.

The court was held at the nearby Bell Inn and anyone causing a public nuisance, or considered likely to abscond while waiting trial, was held temporarily in this tiny lock-up jail. Be careful in Watchet as this court still technically exists - and you wouldn't want end up locked in this jail with no facilities! The building adjoined to it is now a small museum.

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Photos: © Mike Perry

The Clapper Bridge Where The Devil Sunbathes

I'm back to my travels again for today's post: The Tarr Steps in Somerset England. This is an ancient clapper bridge that the Devil built - yes, the Devil himself, well that's how the story goes.

After building the bridge the Devil wanted to use this for sunbathing, which I'm sure he's entitled to do, but this caused a bit of a problem for the local people who simply wanted to get to the other side of the river. Should the locals just go across anyway?

The local parson sent a cat over the bridge but poor pussy was vaporised into as a puff of smoke. The Devil said that he forbid any mortal soul to cross, anyone who tried would be punished with death - which is a pretty severe penalty to say the least.

The local parson tried to reason with the Devil but the Devil swore and intimidated the preacher man. This was no ordinary parson though he gave as good as he got and stood up to the the evil one.

The Devil must have been impressed because he conceded to allow people to pass over the bridge but one stipulation was made. No one must cross when the Devil wants to sunbathe on the bridge.

So be warned if you should venture to Tarr Steps in the sunshine, just in case the Devil is getting a tan.

Tarr Steps is said to be over 1000 years old, going back to the Bronze Age though some will say it's not quite that age. But, whatever, it's the oldest 'clapper bridge' in the UK. The name comes from the Latin 'claperius' which means 'a pile of stones' and this is really what the bridge is. There are massive natural stones resting on one another. The top slabs weigh in at something like one to two tons. The largest is over eight feet long and five feet wide. The bridge is about 55 yards (50m) across the river.

Of course there are some 4x4s who don't bother with the bridge and drive straight through the river, fortunately it wasn't too high on that particular day.

Before reaching Tarr Steps we had been on another part of Exmoor looking for the wild ponies which roam free and luckily caught a few sightings.

We also found a wonderful old inn, the Royal Oak, on Exmoor for lunch.

All in all it was a great day. Exmoor is a wonderful area, providing the weather is okay.

To see the photos in a larger size click on any photo. Photos: © Mike Perry.

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Dunster And A Reminder Of Carefree Days

While we were away on our break Karin and I visited Dunster in Somerset, a small historical town dating back to around 700 AD. As we approached the town the first thing we saw was the castle as in the photo above.

"Ah," we both thought, "this rings a bell."

It was then we realised that we had visited this place 30+ years ago before we were married. We slept in the car park - in my old VW Beetle car. We didn't have much money at the time so stayed in a few small bed and breakfast places until the cash ran out - and it ran out in Dunster!

The photo below shows where we parked my VW - behind the top hedge to the left of the photo.. In those days the parking was free and we made up a meal on a single burner stove. Happy carefree days!

The town of Dunster is over 500 years old and hasn't changed much. The castle dominates the main street and the buildings are pretty much the same.

It's virtually identical to this etching from 1810 ...

... at the forefront is the Yarn Market built in 1609 for the sale of local broadcloth and homespuns and it's still pretty much as per the etching.

Dunster is jam packed with history from the chocolate box style thatched cottages ...

to the 15th-century Gallox Bridge which was used by pack animals to cross the River Avill.

There's the old nunnery ....

... and the tithe barn where 10% of local farmers crops and stock were stored and passed to the Benedictine Priory. This was from around 1000 AD. In 1535 King Henry VIII wanted to know how rich the churches were and it is shown on record that the net annual income of the Dunster Tithe Barn at that time was £37.4s.8p (£37:23).

Also, of course, is the church - the Priory Church of St George which is predominantly 15th century with evidence of 12th and 13th century work.

After viewing all of this, and much more besides, we'd had enough of history so we lunched in a restaurant and then went on a 5 mile circular forest walk from Dunster to find England's tallest tree - but that'll do for today's post!

Click on photos to see larger size. Photos: © Mike Perry

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The Holy Well Near St Decuman's Church, Watchet, Somereset

As regular readers will know I like visiting churches, even though I belong to no organised religion. And I like them even more if they have an ancient legend or story attached. While on my recent visit to Somerset I found such a church: St.Decuman's at Watchet.

The church goes back to the 12th century but the site is associated with various forms of worship back to at least 700AD - plus it has it's very own Holy Well.

The church is named after St Decumen, whose an interesting fellow. He arrived at Somerset from Wales in around 700AD travelling across the Bristol Channel on a raft with just one companion - a cow!

He became a hermit and managed to initially survive by living off the produce of his cow.

As happens with hermits they are not to everyone's liking and a Pagan is said to have tried to kill this saint in the making - and for good measure cut off his head.

But no worries for St Decuman he simply picked up his head, washed it in the Holy Well - though it wasn't actually 'holy' at that time - and placed it back on his body.

This obviously impressed the local people, to say the least, so they got together to help Decuman build a church. And that's where St.Decuman's Church and the nearby Holy Well are situated today.

It's interesting that the Holy Well, as per the photo above, has been preserved and restored by a partnership between the local Church and the local Pagan society. Pagan's claim that Pagan Celts worshipped at the long before Decuman arrived on the scene.

St Decuman's Church, Watchet, Somerset

Karin and I went to the Holy Well before going inside the Church. We were lucky as two of the church wardens were inside and asked us if we would like to go up some stone steps, behind an old door, to the top of the church, not normally open to the public. So we were privileged to be able to look down on the church from on high.

Tomb from 1616 within St Decuman's Church

And a final look at the Holy Well - we doused ourselves with the clear water as Pagans and Christians have done for over a thousand years. Prevention is better than cure!

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