Minor Tor

Glastonbury Town v Congresbury, Somerset County League, Division 1 West.

A pointless meeting back down south (electric train introduction, oh there aren’t yet any wries for them to run under, meeting adjourned) meant a free afternoon. Outward move was an early afternoon HST from Swindon to Bristol Temple Meads...

....for an all shacks Cardiff - Exeter unit.

This was taken as far as Highbridge and Burnham.

Reason for this was to clear the west Somerset guide pubs. First move was a bus up to Burnham on Sea.

This used to be a seaside resort in the 19th century, but is now full of aged smokers in younger smack heads. Like a lowland North Shields.

This is a particularly unadventurous CAMRA area, so the GBGs are just a string of Whetherspoons. First off was the sea front Reeds Arms for a Quantock - Wills Neck.

Bus stop was the site of the towns railway station, which was a branch of the legendary Somerset and Dorset railway. This is all that is left, and is part of the towns not-very-long heritage trail.

Next it was back on the bus. The First operation in the area has recently been rebranded as 'buses of Somerset' with a fleet of Apple liveried Single deck Alexander bodied Scanias. However, this ex- First Glasgow Dennis Trident was operating vice one of them so was a pleasant surprise.

Move was some south to Huntspill......

.....for the Crossways Inn, pleasingly not a Spoons, and cleared with a Whitstable - Rakau and a more local Cheddar - Karst.

Soon it was back on with the adventure, with traction back on diagram. Note amusing large sign to Secret World.

Destination was Bridgwater bus station, which is a fenced off part of an Asda car park.,

The town is like a larger, inland, Burnham. It used to be the home of the UK cellophane industry, but now just has its carnival, which is like Notting Hill if it were organised by the EDF.

Not sure why a carpet shop is deemed to be an Entertainment Zone, but I wasn’t going to question the chain smoker sat in the entrance.

Yet another Spoons and this one looked to be the pokiest, grottiest one in the chain. However, looks can be deceiving as inside it was even worse, to the extent that I actually took back the Blindmans - Icarus, only to be given a just as evil Exmoor - HPA.

Shockingly, I now had to pay for a ticket as the bus to Wells has recently transferred to Webberbus.

Soon after leaving Bridgwater, the bus climbs into the Mendips, with the reclaimed Somerset level stretching out below.

After winding through parts of The West Country I didn't know existed, the destination of Glastonbury and its famous tor with the 14th century St Michael's Tower atop, could be spied.

Glastonbury is now conjoined with the adjacent village of Street. This was famous for being the home of Clarke's shoes, but recently the site has been re-developed into a Next outlet unit, which just about sums up British manufacturing and retail since the eighties.

Finally, destination was reached.

Glastonbury is a centre for all sorts of made up bollocks like witchcraft, faith healing, lay lines and religion. This has transformed the centre with all sorts of new age shit.

Where crystal shops co-locate with non toxic hair salons.

And one of the murals like they have in Ireland yet instead of Bobby Sands or war time re-fueling of U boats, instead it depicts the LSD version of He-Man.

I contented myself with the town guide pub, the George and Pilgrim, although all six sticks were dud, including the chosen Britannia - Navigation.

The town is dominated by the 7th century abbey. I paid a visit, not because I was interested in the abbey itself, but because the football clubs original ground was remarkably in the Abbey Grounds.

The ground as it was.

Sure enough, the original pitch could be made out..

…..now half consumed by a children's playground, full of well to do seventeen year olds called Josh, listening to grime.

I headed off to the new ground, which is situated out of town, with this sign being the first directions; tiny and situated after the turning it is telling you to take.

A proper sign was lost in this myriad of other tempting locations. Of interest is the Isle of Avalon caravan site, as The football club were originally known as Glastonbury Avalon. Avalon being the mythical island that the town sits on.

The ground was accessed by a grass path between the perimeter fence and an open drain.

Glastonbury moved to the ground in the early 1980s as they couldn't get planning permission for floodlights at the Abbey grounds. At the time it was a horrendous greyhound stadium. Bearing in mind the normal standard of greyhound tracks, you can only imagine what the lower end of this is like, and I include flapping tracks in that statement.

One of the prominent sights of the ground was a banksy-esque mural and semi-permanent Winnebago alongside.

However, the mural has been painted over and the RV now has wooden trellis around it.

Three pounds entrance and I was in. Fair warning about all drinks being cans, though concern about the spelling of Cup a soup.

Glastonbury Town 0 v Congresbury 1, Somerset County League, Division 1 West.


Glastonbury FC started in 1890, playing in the Somerset leagues before joining the Western league in the 1920s, for a long and unremarkable stint in the Western league, partly due to ground grading restrictions. They were finally relegated back to the Somerset league in 1999, and have been bouncing around the various divisions ever since, currently residing in division 1 west after promotion last season.

Congresbury is a village in between Bristol and Weston Super Mare. The football club formed in 1903 and have always played in the Somerset leagues.

The pitch element of the ground is vast as it still has remnants of the dog track which was last used in the late nineties.

The facilities are contained on one side. There is standing cover....

.....and a vast lean-to which were built using parts of the 1930s stand from the old ground.

The benches are on the far side of the ground, with a great collection of allotment sheds behind.

Prominent behind the town goal are Glastonbury Tor and Abbey.

A fantastic collection of agricultural clutter was on display, this ride on mower....

....or full sized options.

They could only be bettered by the display at the adjacent small holding.

Behind the far goal was a 1970s Ford Transit, editing smoke and aromas from the inhabitants that made it appear to be a late UK re-make of Cheech and Chong.

A club official saw me taking photos and was keen to show me the work they had been doing at the stadium recently. I tried desperately to look interested as he gave me an in depth account of the installation of mains sewerage. The clubhouse had also been refurbished and was in very good nick, with some reminders of glories past on the walls.

Soon it was time for the teams to make the not insignificant trek to the pitch.

You know the deal by now, I'm as interested in the game as you are. So here is a few shots of step 11 players doing things.

However, there was still time for another highlight, when it was noticed that the home keeper was bearing a completely unnecessary towel.

I left with about ten minutes to go. I think it was 0-1, though I may have missed a goal when I was photoing the neighbours tractors.

Back into the centre for an hour long bus ride to Bristol.

By now it was pitch black, until the cityscape of Bristol was reached.

The bus deposited me at the foot of the Temple Meads ramp....

....just in time for the last service back to Swindon.