I turned around. She looked friendly and was dressed in smart casual outdoor clothes. I decided on honesty.
“Well, not right here, but yes probably somewhere on the Tor. I thought I’d sit and rest for a bit.” I answered smiling. She returned the smile and came closer.
“We camped near here for several weeks when we were in between houses a few year ago. Are you here for Beltane?” she said.
“No, actually that’s just good luck. I’m walking up the country finding people doing things for the environment. Do you want to sit for bit?”
“I’ve got friends all over the world,” Trinity told me a while later. “and all of them are reporting the weather doing strange things. Monsoons coming too early and the like.”
Trinity does conscious cooking for a living. She creates recipes to help people in their spiritual journeys.
Large grey clouds moved slowly in our direction as we chatted. We munched on some dried apricots and dates and then I had my hard boiled eggs and oatcakes. Some conscious cooking sounded like a good idea for my spiritual journey.
“It’s hard to change society but everyone, we just have to totally step out of our comfort zone here, because it’s not working.” she said. “Going to protests and normalising dissent is part of it. Going to things, sharing food together and connecting.”
“I’m surprised there isn’t more obvious environmentalism in Glastonbury.” I said.
“Yes…it can be difficult place to organise in, difficult characters.” was all she said and I didn’t want to pry.
The clouds looked like they would soon leak so we packed up, Trinity for home and me for a pub. As I walked back into town the rain began to fall in irregular splots.
“Where do you think I should go for shelter?” I asked a couple walking in my direction. “I’m on a long environmental walk.”
“There’s the George and Pilgrim on the high street. That would be appropriate.” they offered.
“Pilgrim, yes. That does sound right. Good plan, thanks!” I said.
As I got near the pub the rain was beginning in earnest so I hurriedly wobbled the last bit down the high street. Inside was the cosiness of an old English pub. Nooks, wooden panelling, stone floors, arched windows, big fireplaces. Every table was full of people who looked like they intended to be there a while, except for one small empty table with three little stools. I dumped my bag at the table and my layers, approaching the bar in my bright yellow and black stripy polar neck tank top that bulged unappealingly around my boobs.
Ordering my cup of tea I overheard the two men next to me. They had just met up and were saying they should go find a seat, but didn’t think there were any. The thinner faced man saw me over his friend’s shoulder.
“Do you like that top?” he asked slightly incredulous.
“I do,” I answered cheerfully, “it makes people like you talk to me. I’m doing a walk around England about the environment, called The Buzz Tour, so I dress as a bee.”
Both men had turned around with interest.
“Oh, well I’m the local Green Party member.” said the second man who had glasses and a weary smile.
“Ha!” I said loudly and put my hand on his arm. “I’ve been looking for you all day! Would you like to sit down and join me? I’ve got a table with three seats.”