An enchanting mystical stone circle sits in deepest darkest Wiltshire like the backdrop to a 1970s Hammer House Of Horror production that gives the feeling that you have just walked onto the set of The Wicker Man.

That is not a full exaggeration, I went there first as an 11 year old boy on a misty morning and I was not expecting the experience that I had there.

In my long and distant youth (in fact as far back as I can remember) I had a fascination with the all things of a spiritual nature and a yearning to visit Stonehenge .

So to satisfy my unnatural interest in the esoteric and the ancient I persuaded my parents to take me to Stonehenge for a day out to get me away from 1984 that I found so bereft of magic (little did I know how as a grown man I would reminisce on the 1980s  and 1970s as though they were part of the golden age of Camelot).

I had been planning my escape for weeks and once I arrived at the legendary stone circle I would  allow my imagination to set me free standing under the ancient stones where I might get sucked back in time through a portal created by the builders of Stonehenge to bring me back to a time where I was not an 11 year old son of two violent alcoholic parents.

When we arrived at Stonehenge I could not get out of the car quick enough and I ran towards the stones leaving my parents behind me to pay for the visit I kept running unto I was met by a fence telling me I could not cross this line to touch the stones.

I just stood there gazing at them but the yearning seemed to leave my young body as the realisation that this was the  first of many restrictions I would face in life.

I felt dejected and my parents walked with me back to the car as I tried to hide my disappointment with the ancient builders of Stonehenge for not doing a proper job and leaving me stuck in 1984 Britain with the miners' strike and I had to return home to Merthyr Tydfil.

My parents in a moments lucidity through lack of alcohol noticed that there was another ancient monument not a million miles away from Stonehenge and very close to my Aunt's house where we could stay the night so it was decided we would visit The Avebury Ring.

I was in no hurry to visit another stone circle to be let down by a couple of useless ancient builders and wizards who could not be bothered to remove me from my impending teenage years in a Welsh mining town that had seen better days.

It was around 16:30 pm and the mist was covering the village as we drove into Avebury.

My parents locked the car and I could feel yes feel something was different about this place, it felt strange and I felt something very odd I felt like I had come home.

Here amongst these large stones carved thousands of years ago I felt calm and at ease like a rush of opiates to the brain this place turned my mind on.

Avebury was probably built as part of some pagan ritual and the site has almost certainly been used for both animal and human sacrifice over the years so as a Christian I wonder why I should have had such a prolific experience that day at Avebury which I have visited on many occasions since but have yet experience such  profound euphoria.


I like to think that before the  Avebury stone circle, God touched that place and therefore it is impervious to the spoilings of its violent history.

Anyway its a fascinating and beautiful place that still draws me back there from time to time and you will still find it attracts a wealth of weird and wonderful characters all with their spiritual claim to the place and with the resurgence in witch craft your probably going to bump into some rituals and new age healing.

I myself got rather heavily involved in the occult before God gave me a tap on the shoulder but that is another story for another day.



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