According to tradition, in AD 37 Joseph of Arimathea brought the chalice said to have been used by Jesus at the Last Supper to Glastonbury. Also known as the Holy Grail, the chalice supposedly ended up at the bottom of a well, which is now the centerpiece of this peaceful and inviting garden. Even if the fabled chalice is not here (another legend says it made the trip to Wales), and the water is red from iron ore and not Jesus’ blood, the tranquil setting attracts pilgrims. If you’re a fan of gardens—or want to say you’ve completed your grail quest—this place is worth a visit.

Past the entrance, follow the well-marked path uphill alongside the gurgling stream, passing an area where you can wade in the supposedly healing waters, and the Lion’s Head fountain, the one place where it’s safe to take a drink (it’s tested often, but they advise taking just a small amount). A few areas along the way are designated for silent reflection (if you’re here at 12:00 or 15:00, a bell invites everyone to pause for one minute to reflect). At the top of the hill is the well itself, marked by its intricate ironwork cover. The stones of the well shaft date from the 12th century and are believed to have come from the church in Glastonbury Abbey (which was destroyed by fire). In the 18th century, pilgrims flocked to Glastonbury for the well’s healing powers. From here you’ll drop back down the hill and circle around to the peaceful Vesica Pool (don’t drink or wade here).

Cost and Hours: £5, daily 10:00-18:00, Nov-March until 16:30, on Chilkwell Street/A-361, +44 1458 831 154, chalicewell.org.uk.

If you’d just like to sample the fabled water, two waterspouts are just around the corner from the Chalice Well Gardens entrance (just beyond the trailhead to the tor on the right). The spout on the Chalice Well side comes from the Red Spring; the other spout’s source on the right, in a peaceful and inviting rock garden, is the White Spring. Try both and see which you prefer.

Seen by many as a Mother Goddess symbol, the Glastonbury Tor—a natural plug of sandstone on clay—has an undeniable geological charisma. Climbing the tor is the essential activity on a visit to Glastonbury. A fine Somerset view rewards those who hike to its 520-foot summit.

Climbing the Tor: From just past the Chalice Well, a not-well-marked trail leads to the top of the tor (about 15-20 minutes, if you keep a brisk pace). Alternatively, you could continue up the road past the Red and White Springs to hike up the tor from the other end, but it’s a much steeper and less dramatic approach.

As you climb, survey the surrounding land—a former swamp, inhabited for 12,000 years, which is still below sea level at high tide. Up until the 11th century you could actually sail here. The ribbon-like man-made drainage canals that glisten as they slice through the farmland are the work of engineers—Huguenot refugees who turned the marshy wasteland into something arable.

Looking out, find Glastonbury (at the base of the hill) and Wells (marked by its cathedral) to the right. Above Wells, a TV tower marks the 996-foot high point of the Mendip Hills. It was lead from these hills that attracted the ancient Romans (and, perhaps, Jesus’ uncle Joe) so long ago. Stretching to the left, the Mendip Hills define what was the coastline before those Huguenot engineers arrived.

The tor-top tower is the remnant of a chapel dedicated to St. Michael. Early Christians often employed St. Michael, the warrior angel, to combat pagan gods. When a church was built upon a pagan holy ground like this, it was frequently dedicated to Michael. But apparently those pagan gods fought back: St. Michael’s Church was destroyed by an earthquake in 1275.

A church has stood on this location for over 1,000 years. In the eighth century, a Saxon king was riding here with his bishop when he noticed water bubbling up from the ground. Seeing it as a sign from God, he asked the bishop to build a church here, which was finished in the late 10th century, and—despite the village’s modest population of just 500—a new Bishop of Wells was appointed. But in 1066, invading Normans scoffed at this. Feeling that bishops should only be in important towns, the seat was transferred to Bath (to this day, the seat is called the Bishop of Bath and Wells).

About a hundred years later, the Bishop of Bath, who had spent time in Northern France and was impressed with its Gothic architecture, returned to Wells, demolished the existing church, and began construction on a new cathedral. When the church you see today was finished in 1250, Wells’ population had swelled to 950.

Begin on the large, inviting green in front of the cathedral. In the Middle Ages, the cathedral was enclosed within “The Liberty,” an area free from civil jurisdiction until the 1800s. The Liberty included the green on the west side of the cathedral, which, from the 13th to the 17th century, was a burial place for common folk, including 17th-century plague victims. The green became a cricket pitch, then a field for grazing animals and picnicking people. Today, it’s the perfect spot to marvel at an impressive cathedral.

Peer up at the magnificent 1 facade. The west front displays almost 300 original 13th-century carvings of kings and the Last Judgment. The bottom row of niches is empty, too easily reached by Oliver Cromwell’s men, who were hell-bent on destroying “graven images.” Stand back and imagine it as a grand Palm Sunday welcome with a cast of hundreds—all gaily painted back then, choristers singing boldly from holes above the doors and trumpets tooting through the holes up by the 12 apostles.

Now head inside. Visitors enter by going to the right of the facade, through the door under the small spire, into the lobby and welcome center.

At the 2 welcome center, where you’ll be warmly greeted, ask about tours and pick up a map of the cathedral’s highlights.

Then head down the hallway along the 3 cloister, noting the window tracery in the Perpendicular Gothic style and peeking through the windows at the evocative tombstones. Pause to take in the view of the south side of the cathedral.

Now enter the cathedral. At your first glance down the nave, you’re immediately struck by the general sense of light and the unique “scissors,” or hourglass-shaped 4 double arch (added in 1338 to transfer weight from the south—where the foundations were sinking under the tower’s weight—to the east, where they were firm).

Until Henry VIII and the Reformation, the interior was opulently painted in golds, reds, and greens. Later it was whitewashed. Then, in the 1840s, the church experienced the Victorian “great scrape,” as locals peeled moldy whitewash off and revealed the bare stone we see today. The floral ceiling painting is based on the original medieval design: A single pattern was discovered under the 17th-century whitewash and repeated throughout.

Small, ornate, 15th-century pavilion-like chapels flank the altar, carved in lacy Gothic for church VIPs. On the right, the 5 pulpit features a post-Reformation, circa-1540 English script—rather than the standard Latin (see where the stonemason ran out of space when carving the inscription—we’ve all been there). Since this was not a monastery church, the Reformation didn’t destroy it as it did the Glastonbury Abbey church.

Head behind the altar to the left transept, where you’ll find the 6 medieval clock, which does a silly but much-loved joust on the quarter-hour. If you get to watch the show, notice how—like clockwork—the same rider gets clobbered, as he has for hundreds of years. The clock’s face, which depicts the earth at the center of the universe, dates from 1390. The outer ring shows hours, the middle ring shows minutes, and the inner ring shows the dates of the month and phases of the moon. Above and to the right of the clock is Jack Blandiver, a chap carved out of wood in the 14th century. Beneath the clock, the fine crucifix (1947) was carved out of a yew tree. Also in the north transept is a door with well-worn steps leading up to the 7 Chapter House, a grand space for huddles among church officials. Its sublime “tierceron” vaulting—a forerunner of the fan vaults you can see in later English Gothic style—make this one of the most impressive medieval ceilings in the country.

Now continue down the left aisle. On the right is the entrance to the 8 choir (or “quire,” the central zone where the daily services are sung). Go in and take a close look at the embroidery work on the cushions, which celebrate the hometowns of important local church leaders. Up above the east end of the choir is “Jesse’s Window,” depicting Jesus’ family tree. It’s also called the “Golden Window,” because it’s bathed in sunlight each morning.

Head back out to the aisle the way you came in and continue to the end of the church. On the outside wall, on the left, is the entry to the undercroft, now a cathedral history exhibit worth a look. In the apse you’ll find the 9 Lady Chapel. Examine the medieval stained-glass windows. Do they look jumbled? In the 17th century, Puritan troops trashed the precious original glass. Much was repaired, but many of the broken panes were like a puzzle that was never solved. That’s why today many of the windows are simply kaleidoscopes of colored glass.

Next to the chapel is the oldest known piece of still-used wooden furniture in England: a “cope chest,” which is used to store the clergy’s garments. It is so large it can’t be moved out through any of the cathedral’s doors. Historians theorize that the chest is older than the existing building, and was originally installed around AD 1120, in the Saxon church that predated the cathedral.

Now head back up the other aisle. As you walk, notice that many of the black tombstones set in the floor have decorative recesses that aren’t filled with brass (as they once were). After the Reformation in the 1530s, the church was short on cash, so they sold the brass lettering to raise money for roof repairs.

Once you reach the south transept, you’ll find several items of interest. The old Saxon font, made of Bath stone, survives from the previous church (AD 1000) and has been the site of Wells baptisms for more than a thousand years. (Its carved arches were added by Normans in the 12th century, and the cover is from the 17th century.) In the far end of this transept (in the shade of the fancy chapels), a little of the original green and red wall painting, which wasn’t whitewashed, survives.

Nearby, notice the carvings in the capitals of the freestanding pillars, with whimsical depictions of medieval life. On the first pillar, notice the man with a toothache and another man with a thorn in his foot. The second pillar tells a story of medieval justice: On the left, we see thieves stealing grapes; on the right, the woodcutter (with an ax) is warning the farmer (with the pitchfork) what’s happening. Circle around to the back of the pillar for the rest of the story: On the left, the farmer chases one of the thieves, grabbing him by the ear. On the right, he clobbers the thief over the head with his pitchfork—so hard the farmer’s hat falls off.

Also in the south transept, you’ll find the entrance to the cathedral 10 Reading Room and Chained Library (viewable only with a guided tour). Housing a few old manuscripts, it offers a peek into a real 16th-century library. At the back of the Reading Room, peer through the doors and notice the irons chaining the books to the shelves—a reflection perhaps of the trust in the clergy at that time.

Finish your visit by circling around the cloister (detouring through the door on the left, if open, to the gardens and views of the back of the church and its flying buttresses), then head past the welcome center, where you’ll come to the shop, café, and exit. Go in peace.

The cathedral choir takes full advantage of heavenly acoustics with a near-nightly 45-minute evensong service. You’ll sit right in the old “quire” as you listen to a great pipe organ and the world-famous Wells Cathedral choir.

Cost and Hours: Free, Mon-Sat at 17:15, Sun at 15:00, generally no service when school is out July-Aug unless a visiting choir performs, to check call +44 1749 674 483 (not updated online). At 17:05 (Sun at 14:50), the verger ushers visitors to their seats. There’s usually plenty of room.

Returning to Bath After the Evensong: If taking public transit back to Bath after the evensong, check the schedule in advance. The direct bus back to Bath may stop running before you get out; if so, you’ll likely have to connect in Bristol; check schedules at firstbus.co.uk.

Other Cathedral Concerts: The cathedral hosts several evening concerts each month (most £20-30, generally Thu-Sat at 19:00 or 19:30, buy tickets via the link on the cathedral’s website). They also have occasional lunchtime concerts.

Lined with perfectly pickled 14th-century houses, this block from 1349 is the oldest continuously occupied complete street in Europe (just north of the cathedral—go under the big arch and look left). It was built to house the vicar’s choir, and it still houses church officials and choristers. These dwellings were bachelor pads until the Reformation allowed clerics to marry; they were then redesigned to accommodate families. Notice how the close gets narrower at the top, creating the illusion that it is a longer lane than it is. Note also the elevated passageway connecting these choristers’ quarters with the church.

Next to the cathedral stands the moated Bishop’s Palace, built in the 13th century and still in use as the residence of the bishop of Bath and Wells. While the interior of the palace itself is dull, the grounds and gardens surrounding it are the most tranquil and scenic spot in Wells, with wonderful views of the cathedral. It’s just the place for a relaxing walk in the park.

Cost and Hours: £14, £22 combo-ticket with cathedral; daily 9:30-17:30, Nov-March until 16:00, sometimes closed for special events—check website to confirm; café good for croquet-watching; +44 1749 988 111, bishopspalace.org.uk.

Tours: Entrance includes guided tours at set times (usually grounds tours at 12:00 and 15:00, buildings at 11:00 and 14:00; inquire at ticket office). A good handheld audioguide adds a little context for the palace.

Visiting the Palace and Gardens: The palace’s spring-fed moat was built in the 14th century to protect the bishop during squabbles with the borough. Bishops would generously release this potable water into the town during local festivals. Now the moat serves primarily as a pool for mute swans (and squawking gulls). Typically at 13:00, the little bell to the right of the gate is made available for the swans to ring to satisfy a case of the munchies. The bridge was last drawn in 1831. Crossing that bridge, you’ll buy your ticket and enter the grounds (past the old-timers playing a proper game of croquet—several times a week after 13:30). On your right, pass through the evocative ruins of the Great Hall (which was deserted and left to gradually deteriorate), and stroll through the chirpy south lawn. If you’re feeling energetic, hike up to the top of the ramparts that encircle the property.

Circling around the far side of the mansion, walk through a door in the rampart wall, cross the wooden bridge, and follow a path to a smaller bridge and the wells (springs) that gave the city its name. Surrounding a reflecting pool with the cathedral towering overhead, these flower-bedecked pathways are idyllic. Nearby are an arboretum, a picnic area, and sweet little pea-patch gardens.

After touring the gardens, the mansion’s interior is a letdown—despite the welcome video and decent audioguide that try to make the dusty old place meaningful (though kids may enjoy playing dress-up in an upstairs room). The highlight is the room upstairs displaying artifacts from bishops over the years, including the coronation cope, worn by the Bishop of Bath and Wells at four coronations, most recently for the coronation of Queen Elizabeth II. Dating back to the 12th century, the Bishop of Bath and Wells (on the monarch’s left) and the Bishop of Durham (on the monarch’s right) have accompanied new monarchs during the ceremony. For King Charles III’s coronation, the Bishop of Durham’s cope was deemed too delicate to be worn, so both copes were kept on the sidelines. Excellent displays explain the history of the copes and show off coronation memorabilia.

This museum, just across the cathedral green, houses displays on the archaeology and geology of the nearby Mendip Hills and Wookey Caves, along with an exhibit on World War I (£6, Tue-Sat 10:00-16:00, closed Sun-Mon, +44 1749 673 477, wellsmuseum.org.uk).