Interpreting 5,000 years of history
Matt Pike’s title of ‘visitor assistant’ at Stonehenge doesn’t begin to reflect his many history-related pursuits inside and outside of work – storyteller, researcher, tour guide, TikTok content creator, and self-confessed history nerd being among them. He tells us what’s weird and wonderful about working at one of the UK’s most iconic landmarks.
Tell us about your job
I’m there to interpret Stonehenge, help protect it, and keep visitors safe. My job title has gone from custodian, to historic property steward, to visitor assistant. The culture at English Heritage has changed a lot in the decade I’ve been here. It’s one reason I joined PCS. I’ve also been ‘writer in residence’, and I’m a first aider.
After a morning briefing we’re bussed to the stones. We take over from the night security – yes, people try to sneak in during the night – and they tell us what’s happening. Often there are film crews coming or plans for escorted groups. We had Pink here doing a meditation recently. Barack Obama came and was very nice. I’ve even taken Buzz Aldrin round the stones.
We get everything ready for the visitors and do an inspection to make sure nothing untoward has happened – for example, we often find cremated human and pet remains around the place. Then this endless ribbon of humanity arrives to circle around the stones; often 8–9,000 people daily. There is rarely a dull day.
It sounds varied and mostly great – is it?
It’s a unique and emotional place, and an amazing place to work and meet people. Things just tend to happen. And there’s often some new revelation about the stones. It attracts all sorts. You get a lot of conspiracy theorists. We field questions on absolutely anything. People come with different belief structures and it’s fascinating. It’s 5,000 years old so you have to be across a lot of subjects. I explain Stonehenge as being like an instrument built by our ancestors to aid our understanding of the year. Not a calendar, but not far off. Scientifically, it’s brilliant.
On the darker side, I’ve had some difficult first aid scenarios, like a car crash that ended up in our field. I’ve left work in shock more than once.
How did you get into it?
I grew up on a nearby farm. When I was eight, my uncle loaned me a metal detector. We went out and he found 32 Roman gold coins, which were bought by the British Museum. Being there when he dug them up, cleaning them up with ketchup… that excitement is probably what started my passion for history. I ended up working in construction. My colleagues called me ‘the professor’ because I was into really nerdy stuff. In the 2008 recession I reassessed my life – I wanted to do something I loved.
What else do you get up to?
Lots! Outside of work I do guided walks around Salisbury. In recent years I’ve been creating content on Tiktok (@neolithicwan) and have 43,000+ followers. I wander around the stones and tell unusual facts and stories (with the caveat that my content does not represent English Heritage) and also livestream the solstices and equinoxes, dressed in my tour guide gear of top hat and tails. My face doesn’t appear but managers come up to me and say ‘you’re the Tiktok guy, I really like those’. I’m also the youngest parish councillor in Woodford Valley.
What’s the strangest thing that’s happened at work?
An unusual first aid incident – a woman on the ground in distress. She said she’d seen a white flash and was pulled down into an ‘energy bubble’. That’s not in the first aid book! So, after a while I told her that the polarity of Stonehenge oscillates every half hour and that she’d need to move when she felt the energy change. Next thing, she jumped up and thanked me for freeing her. It was a way to get out of it and save face. I’m not saying it was right, or wrong, but that’s how you free someone from an energy bubble.
Were you there when Just Stop Oil protested?
Yes. It showed how it can go from being the world’s most tranquil place to incredibly pressured. I’d just gone for a tea break, with a security guard. Two minutes later, the protestors started spraying orange paint over the stones. We rushed back and all we could see was clouds of what looked like gas. There’s screaming and I’m thinking it’s a terror attack. My colleagues were absolutely devastated; they felt at fault for not stopping them. But they acted so professionally. It was an effective protest, but people were really badly affected by it and that makes me angry.