Tweedledee, Tweedledum and Faerie Lands

For eight long years, D and I have been internet friends. We traded witticisms (well, witticisms in his case, anyway) as we chatted about Tolkien, Metallica, life, death and the importance of good beer. We kept in touch when I went to college, when he got his Master’s, when I moved to the Middle East and when he got a new job. Even when we went for long stretches of time without speaking, I’d catch myself reading a book or listening to a song and wondering if D would approve – or smite it with his clever use of sarcasm.

Finally, finally, this past bank holiday weekend – I went to the south of England armed with a book on Celtic myths (some snooty, tweedy person in a bookstore doubted I could comprehend it, so I knew I had to get it for D right away) and actually met D.

On the first day, I discovered port and how to drink it. The next morning we set off, me (poorly) imitating Grace Kelly with a scarf and sunglasses, in D’s convertible to the only place such two fabulous people might ever want to go – Glastonbury Tor.

People say all sorts of things about the Tor and come off as quite kooky, but you can’t deny that you feel yourself to be a slightly different person when you climb down the hill after standing in the shadow of the Tor. It’s like the air up there is made from champagne.

I wanted a pilgrimage to a place of power, and a pilgrimage I got. Only time will tell if my present writing project might be at all aided for what I experienced at the Tor – but even so, we got great exercise for our weathered bones and took great pictures:

After trekking for an hour or so (we parked far away - D blames it on ignorance, but I think it was a great excuse to take a stroll) to Avalon then we came. Well, almost.

There were people playing this amazing music under the arch. The music had nothing to do with England, but who cares? Power feeds more power.

We pose for a historic photo on top of the magical hill - documenting that the twain have met, and are now considering a stroll down to Glastonbury for some ale

Here Arthur lay. Maybe. D's shadow certainly does lay, and will lay there still. Some moments last forever, no matter what physics says.

It’s lucky to have friends that last you through the years. I think I appreciate this all the more keenly, having been living in Jordan for a while, and feeling a great deal of loneliness. It’s especially lucky when those friends are more than just intellectual sparring partners.

There is a lot of beauty in the world, but I think that it means a whole lot more when you have someone to experience it with – just as it means more when you have someone to point and laugh with when an airborne yob otherwise known as a seagull decides to wreak havoc among Budweiser bottles.

Thank you so much, D, for being so clever and cool and kind. May the faeries always be nice and well-behaved around you.

4 thoughts on “Tweedledee, Tweedledum and Faerie Lands”

I’m so glad you two finally had the opportunity to meet! Having met both separately, I can only imagine how much fun the conversations must have been. Your report awakened wistful memories of good ol’ chat days…

It would have been great to have you there, Heidi. Maybe another time.

Natalia: as ever, you’re too kind. I forget to write; I give you no material for Global Comment and you repay me by gracing this backwater with your presence. I can’t imagine how you find the time to think of me at all, but I’m so glad you do.