A shopping spree today at Glastonbury. Boring stuff at B&Q (steps so Clare can reach the bird feeders, a tree-branch pruner) then a walk up the High Street to buy a new watch and wallet: we don't usually venture that far; happier in the reassuring confines of Morrison's.
Glastonbury High St. is full of weird people and weird shops: think Swampy and what his support infrastructure would look like. We walked past endless Tibetan healing centres, Buddhist meditation centres, crystal shops; Man Myth and Magick; shops selling furs, African art and crusty clothes.
At 80% of the street walked, I said to Clare: "I think this is a big enough sample size. We're never going to leave the magic kingdom and re-enter shopping normalcy."
She made me persevere and almost immediately we crossed some invisible barrier and came upon a normal Jewellers.
A perfectly nice woman sold me a new watch to replace the ten pound one (incl. strap) which I had bought two months ago and which loses twenty minutes in random bursts per day.
Glastonbury, belying its alt-culture reputation, comes across as shabby and poor. Still, we were 'clean' (substance-wise) so what would we know?
Today's a fast day but I'm indulging with a diet-coke: one calory :-).
