‘…Maybe it is because it is our third visit or maybe it is because there are three of us, or maybe we had to work out the St Andrew thing before we were allowed to ascend, who knows?
Whatever the reasons, we re-convene on top of the man-made-conical-mound which hides behind the Church of St Nicholas, High Bradfield and Wen has an interesting take on proceedings.
“If St Andrew of Scotland is Andrew the Disciple of Christ then he may have come over here with Joseph of Arimathea.”
“And remember at that time there was no Scotland. Scotland was North Albion!”
“North Albion,” smiles Wen, “I like that.”
“Why did they come here?” says Ned.
“If we knew that…” say I.
“If we knew that, then what?” says Wen.
“If we knew that for sure, we’d probably all be millionaires,” say I somewhat wishfully.
“Not necessarily,” says Ned, who may already be a millionaire for all I know. “After all this time, nobody is really all that interested.”
“That’s true enough.”
“It would still be nice to know though.”
“Why does anyone go anywhere?” say I. “Why do people go to Glastonbury? Why do people come here now? They’re still doing it. Why?”
“They come because they’re called,” says Ned simply.
The Call of Albion
And then a still silence descends
Upon our three-fold gathering
And we look out to the far horizon
Each of us from a slightly different angle
To where the mists are gathering form
And preparing to roll in to greet us one and all…’
Extract from, ‘Doomsday: Dark Sage‘, by Stuart France and Sue Vincent.