Henges, Circles, Barrows & Feet, All Of Stone - Salisbury & Avebury, United Kingdom, 26th Nov 2006

The Stonehenge, which I've read make for an underwhelming visit because of the throngs of visitors it attracts. The thing I've learnt is to only read up on where the attraction is, how to get there and when it opens or closes, and to leave everything else for the senses to decide.

A henge is a circular space ringed on its circumference with large stone slabs, within which rituals were conducted by the people who ordered its construction. Stonehenge, therefore, is a rather unimaginative name, if you think about it.

There were also people who were lining up the fence by the main road for a shot of the Stonehenge, and consequently saving on four quids of entrance fee. I'm not griping here (having parted with four quids to get a closer view of the Stonehenge) but I'm of the opinion that having travelled so far, four quids should be the last thing on their minds.

Yes, I tried to chew up one of England's oldest monuments. And no, I didn't get indigestion.

The stone circle at Avebury, which is a two-hour bus ride away from Salisbury where the Stonehenge is located. The ruins at Avebury covered a larger area than at Salisbury, and it took us a good three hours to take in everything, after which it was nearly dark. Also, because Avebury is so abominably hard to get to, there're so few people apart from the local residents taking their evening strolls, who aren't very many to begin with.

The watery conditions which blighted our three-hour stint in Avebury, contributed in no large part by a persistent, unabating drizzle that began with the day a good seven or eight hours before. The rains turned the dirt tracks which we were supposed to use into little creeks, and this, believe it or not, was supposed to be one of those paths pointed out on the map that we bought.

Silbury, the largest prehistoric manmade mould in all of Europe. We had planned to get all the way to the foot of the hill, but were thwarted by the marshes which stood between there and us, enlarged by the rain which had fallen earlier on. Our foray into the wilderness ruined one or two photographs as well, as occasioned by an elderly man who waited patiently for us to get out of his angle. I think he would have given us a great big scowl if he hadn't his camera to operate.

When given a map, always stick to the trails which have already been marked out for you by the wisdom of those went before you. If you don't, you will end up with wet socks, wet shoes and very cold feet.

And that isn't my finger.

Long Barrow, a burial chamber of sorts for the Neolithic chieftains. A barrow is a tomb raised of earth and stone, and used extensively by the prehistoric peoples of Europe, and the Celts after them. It was a very spooky affair, stepping inside, as there were nothing but one or two candles to light the way, whose precarious flames flickered like will o' the wisps and disappeared momentarily into tiny glows whenever the wind blew, only to burn again when it withdrew. Wind and darkness are not the best companions in a lightless chamber bereft of central heating.