Stonehenge After Hours

I had one more night in London before I planned to head to Paris. Despite not being able to hook up with locals, and losing my adventure partner, I was determined to at least do something cool before I left. I had heard the old Stock Exchange, right in the middle of the City (as the financial district of Greater London is known) was under renovation and could be climbed. I had scouted it out a few days earlier, and decided to give it a shot my last night.

First, I took in a show - Guys and Dolls starring (I kid you not) a Don Johnson looking way too old to be playing Nathan Detroit. It was a great show actually, and I decided to head to the Stock Exchange right after it got out.

I got there about 11:00 PM. Way too early. I had forgotten that’s when most pubs let out, especially the after-work places in the financial district. I decided to walk around for a while and try later when the pedestrian traffic had died down. After a couple hours the streets were pretty much deserted, but I had a new problem. A couple of municipal workers had decided to park themselves in the alleyway where I had planned to hop the fence for some repair work. An hour later they were still there. An hour later, they were STILL there. Frustrated I decided to head out. But I couldn’t leave town on that note. I decided to stay an extra day and try again the next night.

That meant I had an extra day to kill in London. Since I had walked around a good amount and seen pretty much all of the touristy things I wanted to, I decided to go see Stonehenge during the day. In addition to being one of the regular things to see, it’s one of the 21 finalists for the New 7 Wonders of the World competition, and it’s a loose life goal of mine to see them all (I’m on 6, with one more still to be seen on the trip). But since I didn’t want too much time to kill between seeing Stonehenge and trying the climb again, I headed out on a late afternoon train. Big mistake. It turns out Stonehenge is in the absolute middle of nowhere. And in the winter, it closes at 4:00 PM. I had rolled into the nearest train station, 9 miles away, at 3:45.

Well, I wasn’t about to let a little thing like this stop me. I figured something like Stonehenge, out in the countryside, probably didn’t have an electrified fence and armed guards surrounding it. If I could make it out there, I had a fairly good chance of being able to head in. At the very least, I could see it from the road. I had two problems - how to get there, and how to get there before dark.

It turned out there’s a smaller city about 2 miles from Stonehenge. 5 Pounds and a 20 minute bus ride later, and I was there. I picked up a map of the town, and headed down old Stonehenge road, hoping I could make it before dark.

Old Stonehenge road eventually turned into a highway. I was on the south end of it, between the road and a field. As the sun was setting, I saw Stonehenge off in the distance. I wouldn’t make it there before dark, but I was confident I could find my way back without much of a problem. On I went.

Stonehenge is basically in the crotch of a Y, with highways forming the Y. As I reached the Y it had grown dark, and I realized there was no way to get there without crossing the highway. It was only about 5:30 or 6:00 - prime rush hour time, and even out in the countryside traffic was fairly heavy.

I felt confident that I could time the cars and make it across the highway - except for one thing. While Stonehenge wasn’t surrounded by armed guards and an electrified fence, there was a waist-high barbed wire fence between the highway and the field where it stood, with no clearance between it and the highway. By themselves, I could time the cars and I could negotiate the fence, but I couldn’t time the cars AND negotiate the fence without ending up like a bad ending in Frogger. I couldn’t believe it. An hour and a half on the train, 20 minutes on the bus, and at least an hour walking, and I was going to be stopped within spitting distance of my goal.

I headed a bit further back and noticed a bit of luck. Right where the highway split, there was a small field where I could take my time negotiating the fence. I waited for a break in traffic and dashed across. Once I didn’t have to worry about getting hit by a car, the fence was easy. I even managed to make it through without tearing my jacket or jeans.

This was it. I climbed up the hill that led to Stonehenge, all the while thinking in the back of my head that there had to be some kind of catch. But there wasn’t. I simply got closer and closer until I was touching the massive bluestone megaliths that make up the complex. I had the place all to myself and it was amazing. No tourists, no fences, nothing but history and me. I took a few minutes to just wander around and marvel at the place. Then I figured a couple pictures were in order.

As I took the second photo I saw someone walking toward me. The guards must have seen my flashes go off. I wasn’t that surprised - I couldn’t imagine they left the place completely deserted after hours. “Hello” I said, deciding the best course of action was just to play the dumb American tourist who didn’t know you couldn’t just walk right in. “You know we’re closed mate,” the guard replied. He couldn’t have been more than 19 years old. “I’m going to have to escort you out - this way please.” A few other teenaged guards joined us on the way to leading me out, and I surmised that this must be the local after-school job for kids in the nearby town. I wanted to ask if they took their girlfriends here, or had a clandestine midnight party a few times a year, but in these kind of situations where you seem to be getting off the hook the best course of action is just to shut up, count your blessings, and get out of there as soon as possible.

As they took me through the gaudy tourist entrance, I was happier and happier that I had gone the way I had. There’s a big difference between walking up under your own power, seeing your goal appear off in the distance in the setting sun, and being rewarded with getting to wander unmolested through it; and rolling up in the SUV with the kids, forking over 15 quid, going through the turnstyle and past the souvenir shop, and snapping your photos from behind the ropes (if you go officially they don’t let you get within 10 feet of the stones, much less touch them). Until the guard showed up, I could almost believe it was 100 years ago, with Stonehenge untouched by postcards, tickets, and official paths. How many people get a place of such historical importance freely to themselves to interact with, even if only for a few minutes, in this day and age?

I was pretty satisfied as I walked, bused, and rode the train back to London. Still, I had stayed an extra day for a reason, and I wasn’t about to let the view from the top of the old Stock Exchange go without a fight.