Apparently it is estimated that only half of the stones have been unearthed. There’s a whole bunch of theories as to what the stones represent and were used for – religious activities, healings, burials, rituals. A small part of me did wonder as I was wandering around the site “Were they just built for shits and giggles?…Is some ancient civilisation laughing down at us, trying to make sense of something that they didn’t even understand. Is it possible it’s just an art installation from that period, basically.” I had a little chuckle to myself at this thought, which is probably the only thing that stopped me from going on a murderous rampage and slaying the utterly inconsiderate and rude tourists who kept walking in front of everyone’s photos. Okay, maybe that’s a little excessive. But they were annoying. Nevertheless, even they could not ruin the awesome feeling you get when you walk around, taking in the sheer enormity of each stone, trying to imagine how on earth they were maneuvered into the distinct positions in which they now stand.
Near where the Stonehenge tourist shop is set up, I noticed a field of red poppies. I researched it later, back at the hotel, and found out it’s a special memorial site called Airman’s Corner. Captain Eustace Loraine and Staff Sgt Richard Wilson became the first of the Royal Flying Corps to die on duty on the 5th of July in 1912 and the poppies commemorate the site of the aviation accident.
Since getting to Stonehenge required a bus ride to the Bristol Temple Meads train station, a train trip to Salisbury, and then a tour coach to the site itself, I was pretty pooped on the way back to the hotel and was really only interested in collapsing into bed and listening to sea gulls caw (though I kept hearing “Mine! Mine, mine!” Thanks, Finding Nemo.).
It was a short one today but stay tuned for the next post next Sunday! This one will be about baths, books, and bridges.0