So then, sit a while and let me tell you my tales of bold questing, intrepid adventure and impetuous travelling. Accompany me as I journey to . . .

Glastonbury
. . . where I crossed the waters by boat, to the dry land of the Tor that rises out of the Somerset mists. There I met an ancient King and his beautiful Queen before playing my harp at the Red Spring, for Priestesses of the Isle of Apples. . .

Fernworthy
. . . where I travelled across the moors to play at the centre of a Sacred Circle of stones, for a young Princess and her attendants. There I saw a practitioner of the ancient art of dowsing . . .

Dupath
. . . where I played in front of the Holy Spring, whilst two Saxons chiefs fought to the death for the hand of a maiden fair. There I met several practitioners of more modern dowsing ways . . .

Merrivale
. . . where I . .

Soussons Cairn
. . . where I . .

Brentor
. . . where I climbed to the top of the world. There I saw a man fly as high as an eagle . .

Dartmeet
. . . where I clambered on great granite rocks and risked life and limb to play my harp. There I listened with some trepidation, for the Cry of the Dart and pondered on the manufacture of cheese.

Altarnun
. . . where I navigated cow~infested fields. There I Priestessed at a Pagan shrine and was gifted the Moon.