Hunebed D3 Midlaren and its twin D4 lie on the outskirts of the village of Midlaren, which can be most easily accessed by taking the No 50 bus from either Groningen or Assen. Get off at Bus Halt Tolhuisweg. The hunebedden lie along Hunebedpad, which you will find 250 metres south of the bus stop (in the direction of Assen). Follow Hunebedpad for 400 metres till you come to its T-junction with Schutsweg and turn left. About 50 metres ahead, on the right side of the road, stand two old farmhouses amongst a plantation of splendid mature oak trees. A 'Hunebed Sign' indicates the path that leads behind the first farmhouse, where you will find the hunebedden, hard up against the rear wall of the building.
Hunebed D3 Midlaren is built from some very large stones indeed, but it has a very untidy look as nearly all the capstones have slipped from their supports and now lie within the crypt of the grave. The hunebed is complete, but has never been restored, so you see as it has now looked for centuries, although, if you look carefully, you might see where cracks in some of the stones have been smoothed over with cement. D3 measures 10.7 by 4.4 metres and consists of 12 sidestones and 6 capstones, only the third one of which still rests on its supports. Despite the fact that the sidestones are deeply buried in the ground, the capstones are so enormous that Hunebed D3 has an imposing profile: indeed, capstone No 2, though now collapsed into the grave, still stands almost two metres tall.
Hunebed D3 Midlaren stands under the canopies of a plantation of mature oak trees, and the best time to visit is in early April, before their leaves have unfurled. On a sunny day, this is one of the nicest hunebed sites in the province.
This link leads to a short YouTube video about Hunebedden D3 and D4.
D3 and D4 hunebedden are almost Siamese twins and locked toegther in a row. They are now both in such a sorry state, squeezed end-to-end between the garden of a run down cottage and a crumbling, disused farm building. Their massive stones have been knocked down and lie strewn about, hinting at what once was. They looked tired, almost dead, for practically all the capstones were knocked off their feet. But for all that, we found them curiously enchanting collapsed in their higgledy-piggledy semi-rural alleyway.