Category: Love & Hope

Wise Busking

My first Glastonbury appearance was in 1993, at The Wise Crone Café in the Field of Avalon. I was on percussion, flute and backing vocals with the wonderful Wise Wound. This was an all-acoustic band from North London, led by the visionary Sue Chewter. I’d joined them in 1992, shortly after they returned from that year’s Glastonbury festival. They’d busked in the Wise Crone Café and been rewarded with food and drinks.

Electric Line-Up

Legendary Lineup

On stage with Wise Wound, that year, were: Sue Chewter (songwriter, lead vocal, acoustic guitar); Den Levitt (AKA Rock Solid, now known as Wobbie Wobbit – double bass, vocals); Marianne de Chastelaine (‘Maz’ – cello, vocals); Brian Madigan (‘Bri’ – er, me – percussion, flute, vocals); Belinda Jones (‘Bill’ – keys, flute, vocals); Paul Fleishman (electric guitar); Sally Handley (‘Sal’ – backing vocals). Den has since had a successful career as a comedy performer, playing both the Theatre and Cabaret stages at Glastonbury in subsequent years. Maz, became a psychoanalyst and is currently a researcher at the University of Texas in Dallas. Bill has had a stellar solo career as a folk singer, winning Best New Artist at the 2001 BBC Folk Awards. Sal works as a children’s entertainer and early years educator. Paul continues to – in his own words -‘beat guitars for money’. And I do whatever the hell it is that I do.

Constantly Adapting

The Avalon Field has since been through a number of changes, its main stage growing and contracting, with the Avalon Café adapting to accommodate it. By 2024, the Avalon Stage had expanded to such an extent the café was removed altogether.  And in 2025, a new stage popped up in the woods next to Woodsies. This stage ‘At The Wood’ is curated by Lisa Pickering, who previously managed the Avalon Café stage, with Will Angeloro – also formerly of the Avalon Café crew – on sound.

Inspirational Songwriter/Healer/Friend

Rest in peace, Sue. You’ll always be remembered in those enchanted fields… and far beyond.

Stunning

When cycling through countryside that’s right on your doorstep, it can be easy to overlook just how beautiful it all is. But today, in broad sunshine, the hills and valleys south of Bath really were stunning. Traveling down a week ahead of the festival to work some voluntary shifts, the roads were quiet too.

Gears Take The Strain

Conscious of a niggling knee pain, following the strenuous rides through Devon and Cornwall, I set myself (just me, Brian, today) a steady pace, letting my generous range of gears take the strain. Rob will be following on next week. We have three gigs scheduled, two at the new ‘At The Wood’ in the Woodsies area and one at ‘Sunny’s, a long-standing, regular booking in the Theatre & Circus backstage area.

Adrenaline-Inducing

Expectation & Anticipation

Getting onto site was uncomplicated and I was able to take the top road, along the Northern edge, through the farm and on to our crew camping. It’s a privilege to be able to roam the festival grounds during the build phase. There’s already a sense of expectation and anticipation in the air. The fields are lush, green and mostly devoid of tents.

In a few days’ time, this will be very different indeed…

Virtually Unaccompanied

We spent quite a lot of today on busy main roads. Which is a shame. However, a lengthy segment between Taunton and Glastonbury was being resurfaced. So, we were able to enjoy the smooth, level ride virtually unaccompanied. Although traffic was being diverted over quite a distance, the section that was actively blocked-off was only a couple of miles long. A helpful road worker diverted us onto a side road, which closely shadowed the main route, then rejoined, causing little inconvenience.

It was good to be on the flat after so much climbing through Devon and nice to get some miles under our belts early in the day. Pushing on to Glastonbury, lunch was taken at the Blue Note cafe, a favourite of Brian’s band in the 90s ‘Wise Wound‘. The staff here were extremely friendly and we enjoyed the ability to choose from an extensive selection of meat-free dishes.

Main Roads

At Chilcompton, Brian knew from experience the worst of the hills were over. He was looking forward to the descent into Midsomer Norton, then the railway path through Radstock and on to Wellow. But no. Our route diverted us through Paulton, intially on small lanes and then – once again – on the busy main road.

Pub Stop?

It became evident we’d now be following the hills through Radford and Timsbury. So Brian suggested a pub stop in Priston, a little further up the road. But no. We were plonked back on the even busier main road to Bath, on a hilly section where overtaking is particularly difficult. Which didn’t make us very popular with the drivers. Once again, we had to hold our breathes as they attempted to edge past at ill-advised spots.

Fetish For Jugs

The Final 200 Yards

Brian then led the way through Bath, along the the river and through the Rec (Bath Rugby’s ground), then up onto the canal tow path. Just as we climbed the lane to reach home, a cyclist behind said ‘I hope you didn’t party too hard at Shindig’. How did he know? Of course, Brian was wearing last year’s tour shirt with dates listed on the back. He’d worn it for the entire tour (washing it – it’s important to note – daily). And this was the first time anyone had commented

… about 200 yards from home.

Tough Day

This was a tough day’s ride. From the off, there was a steep climb out of Hatherleigh. And then the hills just kept coming. Normally, a big climb takes you to the top of something. Here, you simply descend the other side. And repeat. After a couple of hours of this, Rob said ‘it would be nice to stay up on top of the hills for a bit’. Sure enough, there followed a good few miles of more sensibly undulating road, with the occasional steep climb to keep us interested.

Cream First

Along this stretch, we found a farm shop and cafe. Pulling in, we were assaulted by a wall of noise generated by families enjoying an open day. Which was quite a shock to the senses, after being lost in our own thoughts on the hills.

A very helpful lady, who may well have been the owner, spotted us and showed us to a safe spot to stow our bikes. She then led us through the mayhem, into the shop and up some stairs to the cafe. She informed us it had opened today, which was fortunate as we’d encountered nowhere else to stop for a cuppa and a sit down. They were only offering drinks and cakes, so we opted for cream teas. These arrived pre-constructed: for the record, cream first, then jam.

Energy-Sapping

After a few more miles, the hills resumed. This was hard on the knees and energy sapping. But we slowly ticked-off the miles. After Tiverton, things became a little easier, now following the course of a broad valley. There were still some goodly climbs but it felt as though progress was being made.

Rolling Cast

Sadly, their performance coincided with our meal’s arrival. So, we were instead serenaded by a playlist of 80’s classics, which was surprisingly OK. We were alarmed to read, in the extensive hotel brochure, that we would be welcome to store our firearms in their gun cabinet. Unfortunately, we’d neglected to bring these. However, we were accompanied by the sound of people shooting at defenseless semi-flightless birds as we made our way across the Devon hills.

Constant Companions

Stopping for a late sandwich break in a beautiful meadow, we saw a red kite for the first time since leaving Somerset a week ago. This was accompanied by several buzzards, which have been our constant companions. So too skylarks, chirruping on high, like old-school dial-up modems.

Switched Off

And then, all of a sudden, Devon was switched off. We went from following a barely-tarmacked track, through narrow hedges in what felt like the middle of nowhere, to being dumped on the main A-road to Wellington and Taunton. And now we were in Somerset. Here, the terrain was flatter, allowing us to make good headway. Sections of cycleway appeared, disappeared and swapped sides, seemingly at random. Which left us to mostly remain on the carriageway.

Hidden Depths?

Coming into Taunton, our previous perception during the outward leg that this is a shit-hole were reinforced. Perhaps the town has hidden depths and a charm that’s not immediately apparent. But it’s bloody awful to cycle through.

So we were relieved to be staying in a Premier Inn on the town’s outskirts. Sanitised and identikit these places may be. But they are clean, tidy and free from the smell of frying meat that seems to permeate the centre.

Much-Needed Fuel

Alarmed to wake at 8:50 this morning, we were up and out of bed in no time. Yesterday, breakfast was being packed away around that time and we were keen not to miss the much-needed fuel. However, it seems that at weekends things are a little more relaxed. So we had time to tuck-in to a hearty meal before the off.

All The Rains

Today we had all the rains: from heavy to steady, monsoon to drizzle and even a touch of hail. There was a lot of standing (and cascading) water on the roadways and it was easy to see why the surfaces here are so weathered. In spite of all that, it was an enjoyable day’s ride.

Heat Management

After around 10 miles, we stopped at a large cafe. Here we enjoyed tea and cake, showing our appreciation by leaving pools of water on the floor from our sodden waterproofs. Apologies. In this kind of rain, there’s no chance of remaining dry: it’s more a question of heat management. Earlier, we’d stopped to remove layers, then had to immediately replace them as the heavens opened.

Sit-Down Break?

Takeaway pasties were procured. Which was just as well since we didn’t see anywhere to refill for the next 30 miles or so. We ate standing by a field entrance, during a lull in the rain, looking forward to a sit-down break once a cafe or pub appeared. Neither did.

Finally, we came into a small market town. Following a sign for the ‘town centre’, we deviated up a steep incline to the market square. Hidden down a side road was – at last – a cafe. It was closed. By now, the rain had finally abated. For a brief moment, it looked as though the sun may appear. It didn’t.

Impatient Drivers

We ploughed on, still mostly over friendly terrain, interspersed with the odd climb requiring first gear and patient effort. A couple of adrenaline-induced expletives were emitted as impatient drivers narrowly avoided head-on collision. When confronted with 2 1/2 tons of 4×4 brushing your shoulder, its sometimes hard to remain polite. But we do make an effort to let people pass on narrow lanes and wave acknowledgement to those that wait until it’s safe.

Dramatic Rock Formations

Walking along the cliff-top path to Porthcothan, we were rewarded with stunning views over turquoise and green seas, fringed with white as the waves crashed onto dramatic rock formations below. Skylarks fluttered on invisible perches, chirruping away on high. Gulls, kittiwakes and cormorants expertly soared in the on-shore breeze. Jackdaws hovered above the clifftop meadows.

All along this stretch there are signs warning walkers not to walk too close to the crumbling cliff edge. We met a retired couple from the Netherlands who were walking the coastal path to Newquay. Their travel agent, taxi driver, B&B owner and – quite possibly – the checkout girl at ASDA had told by tnot to stray from the path. So, they had been horrified to witness us clambering about on the rocky outcrops. For the record, these were not anywhere near the undercut clifftops. Although they weren’t too far away either.

Sheltered From the View

Nearing Portcotham, we were pleased to meet walkers coming in the opposite direction with coffees and ice creams. By the beach was a small gift shop and cafe, sheltered from both the wind and any kind of view. Here, we enjoyed a coffee and – of course – a pasty. Walking down to the shallow beach afterwards, Rob observed that the tide was coming in fast. It would have been easy to get cut off, as the water raced across the flat sand.

Alarming Abundance

As it happened, the weather was now turning, with menacing clouds blowing in, a accomponied by a cold breeze. So, tea was taken on the YHA terrace as Brian agonised over whether or not to go in. On arrival, we’d seen a peregrine falcon on the hunt, quite possibly hoping to snare a baby rabbit, these being in alarming abundance throughout the hostel’s campsite. As we drank our tea, a kestrel hovered close by. As we watched, a jackdaw – also hugely prevalent hereabouts – swooped down from out of eyeshot and pecked the Kestrel on the nape of the neck, knocking it from its geostasis.

Worsening Weather

By 4pm, we were ready to prepare for the gig. However, there was no sign of Rachel, who coordinates everything. In her absence, the very helpful kitchen and front-of-house managers fetched the PA and moved tables on the terrace. As we began piecing everything together, Rachel appeared. After a little deliberation, we decided – in view of the worsening weather – to take everything inside. Which turned out to be a good move.

Open-Minded & Appreciative

Thank goodness. It had been a long journey to get here. With the weather closing in, we’d feared this may be a damp squib. However, it had turned out to be a great night. Rachel – who does all the organising on a voluntary basis – had been more than helpful and had done a good job with promotion. The hostel staff were all really helpful and the audience had been open-minded and appreciative.

Go there. You won’t be disappointed.

Highest Point

First thing, we overrode our routing app’s suggestion of going round in a circle to rejoin the route. Instead, we retraced our steps, then began the hilly climb up onto Bodmin Moor. The landscape at the top was open and exposed, affording both expansive views and a goodly headwind.

Stopping to take this in, we got talking to the driver of a mini-bus that had passed us on the way. He was with a group from Truro College, who he’d sent off on a land navigation exercise. They were heading for ‘Brown Willy’ – a tor that could be seen a little way off. This, he reported, is the highest point in Cornwall. It was gratifying to know our efforts had brought us to within a few vertical feet of this pinnacle.

Generally Favourable

Serious Inconvenienced

There had, however, today been some stretches of main roads on which a degree of fuck-wittery was in evidence. More than once, a head-on collision seemed on the cards, as drivers prioritised getting past us over their – and our – survival. Drivers, please note: the 10, 20, 30 seconds you may need to wait in order to safety pass a cyclist won’t prolong your journey. Once past, you will simply race on to the next impediment. However, a night in A & E, a week in Intensive Care or an early grave may seriously inconvenience you.

Camel Trail

Here At Last

From Padstow, there were a few short climbs over the headland hills to reach Treyarnon, a stunning, rocky bay, hidden from view until you stumble upon it. Brian had been here on three previous occasions, with Rivers of England, and scheduled to play for a summer festival in 2020. This was to be the end point of his first cycling music tour but was scuppered by Covid.

So, it was all the more satisfying to be here – at last- on two wheels.

Epic Ride

Today was an epic ride. We’re not sure if we’ve had such a combination of distance and climb on a tour leg before. Were we gigging tonight, it might be a tall order – if only from the point of view of having time to shower, refuel and set up in time to perform.

Before setting off, we were treated to scrambled eggs by our wonderful host, Rick. We could have stayed all day chatting but needed to get going, with a long day ahead of us. We did, however, promise to meet At Glastonbury,

Tough Start

This was fabulous, allowing us to smoothly gain height over the course of many miles. It afforded us stunning views of Dartmoor, sometimes from viaducts, which alleviated any need to descend the numerous valleys. After our show start, it was a joy to be eating up the miles on smooth, even surfaces.

Devastated

As we progressed, views over Bodmin Moor opened up to our left. Leaving the railway path, the hills were now broader but the climbs nonetheless substantial. After a time following a quiet B road, we then joined a main route, just as the afternoon rush set in. Relieved to eventually leave this, we were then faced with more, energy-sapping steep climbs, before arriving at our destination.

Cracking Pub

Our digs were a generous room (two rooms, really) within a sprawling bungalow attached to a camp site. The owner was a compact, bearded fellow in his 60s, who claimed – when we asked after the local pub – never to have drunk alcohol. He said he’s also a preacher but that the two things are unrelated. We were allowed to wheel our bikes through the kitchen-cum-office and store them in a room attached to ours via wooden screens. It was all very old-fashioned but roomy, clean and cheap.

The Rising Sun pub was a 15-minute walk and a cracking place. The owner and chef, Tim, had trained at Rick Stein’s and La Gavroche. He clearly knew his stuff and there was a good mix of visiting diners and locals at the bar. Chatting at the end of the evening, he told us they have live music once a month and thought our style would fit well, should we make a return visit.

We’ll see…

Hefty Climb

Today’s ride made up for what it lacked in distance with a hefty amount of climb. An easy start took us back along the coast to Paignton. From here, there was a prolonged ascent, gaining nearly 500 feet in height. This was, however, steady and – though tough – quite manageable.

Intermittent Views

Then followed a pleasant trundle along country lanes, with intermittent views of Dartmoor, looming ahead. Which was only slightly marred by the fact that these tiny roads appear to be the main thoroughfare. Stopping for a sandwich break in a field, we practiced our local accents. Which – it turns out – neither of us can do. At the same time, we strove to avoid eye-contact with the cows we hadn’t noticed on climbing the gate.

Hairy Crossing

Creative Hub

Ashburton is an amazing creative hub, set within an attractive little town on the southern end of Dartmoor. The Arts Centre is housed in a converted Methodist church. The performance space is compact yet flexible, so it can comfortably host larger events or those of a more intimate nature. Which is just as well. Without dwelling on numbers, I can safely say we were on first-name terms with the whole audience by the end of our show.

We invited centre manager Andy to join us on Saxophone for a couple of numbers. And he was more than happy to take centre stage. Unfortunately, in making space, Rob stepped on the lead from his violin, causing his pick-up to emit a gig-ending din. Fortunately, we were only one song short of the planned conclusion. But it had been a costly day for Rob, who had bravely performed through his shoulder pain and now faced having to have his equipment repaired.

Treasure-Trove of Stories

Afterwards, we repaired to our hosts Rick and Shelley’s house. And what a pair of characters they turned out to be. Rick is an actor and musician. He was one of the people responsible for introducing the Circus field to Glastonbury festival. And he has a treasure-trove of stories from his colourful career. Among which was how he became custodian of one of Keith Richards’ guitars.

Rick had come to know Keith’s son Marlon. MarIon had an old acoustic guitar, signed by his father, that had previously been played on the original recording of Blue Suede Shoes (or one of Elvis’ hits at any rate). His mother insisted Rick take the guitar, as it wasn’t being played. But Rick was terrified. He was now in possession of a priceless instrument he daren’t play and couldn’t even tell anyone about. After six months, he gave it back and was relieved so to have done.

Pleasantly Stuffed

The pub in Butterleigh was a cracking, proper local with smart rooms, engaging staff and a terrific playlist in the bar. Even when we pestered them every few minutes, to ask what track was playing, they remained friendly and happy to oblige. The music selection was a compelling mix of Doobie Brothers, Stevie Wonder, Steely Dan and the like.

Both settling for fish and chips and an IPA, the evening meal left us pleasantly stuffed. Which couldn’t be said of the self-service breakfast. This was ‘continental’: heavy on the pastries and devoid of protein. And tea and coffee was extra. Really? But otherwise this was a really enjoyable stop-over.

Almost Comical

Today’s route profile had an almost comical peak at its centre. Before reaching that, there was some absolutely glorious cycling, along hedge-lined lanes through picturesque valleys. And the terrain was pleasantly undulating, making for a good riding tempo.

Convoluted Cycleways

We got talking to a chap who arrived on an impressive (non-electric) bike, with extended front cargo space. On this, a basket was secured, in which was a beautiful, slender dog. He told us she was a rescue animal – part greyhound and part pit bull – named Willow. A keen (but not nerdy) cyclist, he was en-route to visit his elderly parents in Teignmouth. Recently, a driver had run into them both, injuring Willow then driving off without stopping. Unbelievable.

We said our goodbyes, then set about navigating the helpful but convoluted cycleways through waterside parks and alongside the main river’s tributaries. Having temporarily been diverted onto a busy road, we rejoined this network to find our friend – who’d been happily drinking his coffee when we left – ahead of us. No idea why we’d been sent the long way round.

Middle of Nowhere

Aerial Maneouvres

Back at the café in Exeter, Brian had become excited when the Red Arrows flew by. At a later stop for tea (in a rather soulless, yet friendly, road-side eatery) a Lancaster bomber passed overhead. Then, as we approached Paignton, Brian was thrilled by the sight of Torbay Airshow‘s grand finale. This was a delta-winged fighter jet, he later discovered to be a BAE Typhoon, performing unfeasible aerial maneouvres. The plane’s parting shot was to rise vertically into the clouds until its engine roar – spookily – evaporated. Rob pointed out the irony of Brian’s enthusiasm, given the environmental – let alone humanitarian – impact of such machines. Guilty as charged.

Having a Lovely Time