Avebury at dawn

27th May 2023

It was a true pilgrimage, if ever there was one. Awake at the unfeasible hour of 3am and in the car by 3.15am, hurtling down the road. By the time I joined the motorway, I was aware of dawn’s first light creeping steadily over the horizon, a race against time. While dawn wasn’t expected until 5am, the true colours of the world are known much earlier, at civil twilight.

I arrived at Avebury at 4.24am, parking in the village car park, forbidden to outsiders. At this hour, all would be asleep, if not already woken by the chorus of birds and sheep. In any case, I would be gone long before the presence of my car would cause a problem. 

As a frequent visitor to Avebury, each visit has offered something different according to the time of year. Summer during daytime is awash with tourists, New Agers, traffic and disgruntled would-be diners at The Red Lion who failed to book in advance. Winter is beautiful at sunset, tempered with the knowledge of the return of longer days and the glow to the east over Waden Hill, before the world is plunged into darkness all too soon.

Here, at this time, is perfection. A few weeks before the summer solstice, the land is empty and presented in its purest form. No traffic, no-one else about. I expected to encounter at least a couple of souls at this hour, but if there were any, they were not in physical form. This was an Avebury few get to see, unless dedicated enough. 

Despite being the frequent visitor, at this hour and all alone, the primal instinct kicks in. Either the land accepts you, or it doesn’t. Such is the staple ingredient of folk horror. Those who don’t respect the land meet with sticky ends. I find the solstice celebrations a cop-out, safety in numbers. But I’m sure they’re fun,  nonetheless. To test worthiness, you either go alone or with a dear friend who understands how folklore works.

West Kennet Avenue sets me at ease. Despite the lone car parked on the outset with a smashed in window, the warmth of the rising sun against this landscape was beautiful. My feet were soaked from the morning dew, and I was glad of my decision to bring my jacket at this hour, to keep me warm. 

With the first rays of sunlight illuminating the stones, I consider this a friendly place. The general feeling is that while I’m alone amongst the stones, I’m welcome and no harm will befall me.  In the end, we’re a continuation of the original purpose of such sites, whether we intend it or not. I’m reminded of Julian Cope’s words about open air temples such as Avebury, where ‘the sky was the ceiling and the horizon were its walls.’ The rising sun washed the land with warm colours and the promise of a fine day ahead. 

I lingered for an hour and a half, walking the circumference of the henge, quietly closing the latched gates that bang frequently during daylight hours, so as not to disturb the residents. On my travels, I found the ‘devil’s chair’ stone in the south east quadrant, and sat in the recess. It was comfortable and offered a modicum of respite against the early morning chill.

By 7am, the first of the village residents were stirring and it seemed a good time to depart and return home, sated by my pilgrimage. I arrived in Reading at 8am, in time for breakfast at the cafe. It was a strange transition, from ancient land to modern town, and so early in the day. I pondered the fact that both Avebury and Reading were respectively important  sites of pilgrimage, separated by many thousands of years and allegiance to deity, from Mother Goddess to Heavenly Father. In comparison, the traces of worship here only trace back just shy of a millennia, with only the skeletal ruins of Reading Abbey to provoke that same sense of wonder as to how things might have been.

We may truly never understand, but as long as there is the desire to know more and walk in the footsteps of those who came before us, the human experience is as complete as it can be.

LEGENDS & MAGIC

The number of myths associated with this site are sparse, as a site of this scale requires little in the way of embellishment. But two megaliths at both the north and south entrance to the henge have been singled out as having uncanny qualities to them.

The Swindon Stone in the north-west quadrant is said to cross the road at midnight, as the bells of nearby St James church chime, possibly in search of its missing sibling.

In the south-east quadrant, one of the megaliths has earned the name of the Devil’s Chair, featuring a natural recess in which a person can comfortably sit. It’s said that if you look up towards the ‘chimney’ above the seat and see smoke billowing through the gap, the devil is in attendance.

There is a further, more recent legend attached to the site, for which we’ll repair to the nearest hostelry, The Red Lion.

LEGENDARY PINTS & MAGICAL REFRESHMENT

The Red Lion pub prides itself on being the only pub in the world found in the middle of a prehistoric stone circle. This has been in use as a pub since 1802, with the building itself dating back to the 17th century. Its previous incarnation was as a farmhouse and has the unusual feature of an 86 foot deep well within the pub, which has been covered in glass and serves as an interesting dining table. 

The well is the focal point of the pub’s most prominent ghost story, with its origins dating back to the English Civil War. The story tells of the unfortunate Florrie, who took a lover while her husband was away doing battle.

One night, the husband returned unexpectedly to find Florrie with her lover, and murdered the pair. Florrie’s body was flung into the well and it was sealed with a huge boulder. Her ghost is said to return, either in search for her lover or husband and has a penchant for men with beards. To date, I’ve not experienced any spectral goosing.

One noticeable spectral aspect is The Red Lion’s own house ale, which has occasionally manifested during previous visits. Avebury Well Water is a pleasing enough pint and exclusive to The Red Lion, which makes it the only pint in the world available at the only pub in the world found in the middle of a prehistoric stone circle, which is surely an entry worth scoring on beer drinking app Untappd. 

Food is of course available and being a Chef & Brewer pub, the menu is quite extensive and of decent quality. The cheddar and bacon burger on my most recent visit was pretty tasty, and I had a good view of the south quadrant of the henge while enjoying my food.

Now, a caveat. Being the only pub in the world found in the middle of a prehistoric stone circle, the place can get a little busy during peak tourist season in the summer months. If you’re intending to visit Avebury and eat at The Red Lion, it may be advisable to book a table in advance. There’s been innumerable times when I’ve sat outside in the courtyard and watched would-be diners get turned away, and toasted their departure with a raised glass and jovial “happy day” (ask your parents). 

Likewise, the pub and courtyard can be busy during seasonal calendar events, such as during the solstice and equinox, with standing room available only. Make sure you have your wits about you when crossing the road to return to the henge, or pulling out from the pub car park. The A4361 runs through the centre of the henge and the pub is situated on a blind corner with fast moving traffic. 

But otherwise, what could be better than spending an afternoon engaging in both stone bothering and people watching, while pondering the mysteries of this ancient site over a pint? Happy day to you. 

The Red Lion, Avebury, SN8 1RE

Further details on Avebury available here.