A car full of idiots left Stoke-on-Trent lateon the Sunday of the Solstice. The idea was to go to
the Avebury area for the Solstice celebrations, then make it down to Glastonbury for the
festival. Here are a few of the memories which remain amongst our battered braincells with the
help of Bekki's new camera.

'Galapagos' Mark, the youngest member of the posse had left
school earlier in the week. Oh to be 16 again.

Here's Dave and Wolf doing one of the many packings of the
trailer. We've just hit the N.T. carpark at Avebury.
Wolf's the rather massive chap on the right (older bro' of Mark). Wolf is one of the finest storytellers of the old
school left in Albion and a lyrical bard of great standing

A classic living vehicle of late 90's Albion. Groovy front door
on the side.

The first Stone of the many rings of Avebury that most
visitors get to see. The sharp irregular nature of the Stone
is thought to be a result of attacks by the Desert Cults
who in the 1600's systematically set about destroying the
ancient rings. Avebury escaped this untill the late 1700's
and even when the 'forces of light' set about the ring,
they neither completed their task nor took all their number
home. A true place of power, no tinpot securitymen
required.

The golden summer light fades and the long shadows of
the Earths mane stretch across the ring within a ring. We've just bumped into some friends and are enjoying a beer or three from the Red Lion. The circle's full of small groups of people shifting positions to catch the last warmth before the night. All of this is accompanied by a scatering of drums from within the circles of friends

The more I look at this photo, the more I think it was taken about half an hour before the one above.