Despite the dense cloud promising rain at any time, I was relieved when Jane agreed to meander down the Roman road which cuts through the Rowen complex of megalithic structures. Moth walked along the raised field bank, and it was delightful to hear them both cry out in unison as they spotted Maen-y-Bardd. It has that effect; I challenge anyone not to say "Oh wow!" or just "Oh!" upon seeing it for the first time. Tired, and totally fed up with walking, Jane immediately nested inside it, and was promptly re-energised. Not surprising. The Iced Gem of Dolmens looked just as gorgeous and magical, irrespective of the rapidly lowering skies. Moth and I took lots of photos, before seeking out Rhiw Burial ChamberThis post appears as part of the blog post " Three Go Mad In Conwy: Part II" |
We arrived at the Druid's Circle to find Jane looking cold and fed up, sheltering next to the largest stone. The walk had pushed her to the limits of her endurance, so she sucked on a Camel to recover, and be better able to take in the magnificent setting. Moth was blown away by the place, and I was a little disappointed the weather was so overcast; I had very much wanted to see it in sunshine. Just as we left, my wish was granted – sunshine broke warmly through, transforming the setting, and helpfully illuminating Great Orme into the bargain. By this time, Jane had steeled herself for the ramble back to the car, so didn't return, as Moth and I did, to make use of the precious sunlight. That was a shame, because when the sun lights the whole of the coastline and the stones, it's an inspiring sight.
We also took a swift peek at Circle 278 and ?Monument 280.This post appears as part of the blog post " Three Go Mad In Conwy: Part II" |
Jane plodded on as Moth and I took photos of this ever-so-cute tiny stone circle. A gang of luridly-clad mountain-bikers tore down from the Druid's Circle and halted next to us while waiting for a straggler. They passed comment that we were much like train spotters in our hobby. Not unlike like mountain-bikers then, Moth sagely observed, as the straggler caught up, and the fluorescent numpties pedalled away furiously.This post appears as part of the blog post " Three Go Mad In Conwy: Part II" |
As our initial searching had been confounded by many erratics, the general consensus was that this might not be a very spectacular site. After hoping for something reasonably impressive, I was beginning to think this would be a few short, squat, piddly stones running in a line for 10-20 feet.
Thankfully, this wasn't the case – Moth finally located approximately 100yds of Bronze Age handiwork, made from substantial stones, leading towards the Irish Sea. What a treat for a stone row virgin.
As we took photos and generally prepared for lunch, a hale and hearty woman approached, enquiring as to whether this was the stone row. We informed her it was, and she asked if we were students of archaeology. I replied that we were Modern Antiquarians, so in effect students of archaeology, but really just megalithic enthusiasts. She explained that she was an ex-midwife who led walking parties, and was walking Great Orme to suss out a new route, with places of interest like the Roman well by the roadside above the stone row. We suggested she check out Lletty'r Filiast.
Amongst all the erratics, the uniformity of the stone row was very clear, and picnicking above them, I wondered what their purpose had been. Interestingly, they faced north-ish, so presumably the setting sun would not have been visible at their end. Could they have been a ceremonial route, or something connected with shipping? Moth said they reminded him very much of Dartmoor stone rows, and on our return to the car, we had an interesting discussion about the possibility of Cornish tin miners being drafted in to work the Copper Mines, bringing with them new customs and traditions.This post appears as part of the blog post " Three Go Mad In Conwy: Part I" |
'The Lair of the Greyhound Bitch'. Appropriately enough, the house next door had a yard full of dog shit and a pack of hounds who barked long and loud on our arrival. In addition, the throb of bitchin' rap emanated forth - rather distracting in the otherwise secluded and peaceful setting of this small dolmen.
Unfortunately, the diminutive chamber is crumbling slowly away, much like a piece of Cheshire cheese. Enough remains to reveal what a charming structure it was, and happily, it is obviously looked after, as a helpful tourist information board is stationed nearby. The puddingy stone put me in mind of Carreg Samson, although there was no variation in the stones used here.
With its capstone in place, it would probably have appeared more dramatic, but sadly this broke in three or four pieces a while ago, and the chunks now lie where they fell. Remarkably, although access is very easy via the solid purpose built ladder at the foot of 'Cromlech Road' (big help, that), the site is very clean and tidy. I expected it to be 'The Lair of the Burberry Chavs', but there was not an empty bottle of White Lightening in sight.
Moth and Jane reckon that in its hey-day, Lletty'r Filiast would have been a similar size to Hetty Peglar's Tump, which mean it would have been a seriously important site. Its position so close to the Copper Mines (just a few hundred yards above), is also interesting. It wasn't as dramatic as I had hoped, but pleasant. At least Jane was bewitched, finding herself reluctant to leave.This post appears as part of the blog post " Three Go Mad In Conwy: Part I" |
Follow the footpath up to the right from the gate hole, turn right into a brambly snicket, then left, and stay against the hedgerow until passing into a small wood. There are footpath markers to assist. You will be able to see this intriguing chamber silhouetted against the sky-line. In your eagerness to get up close to the monument, which forms the edge of two raggedy barbed-wire fences, take two seconds to locate the kissing gate 50 feet up to the right at the edge of the wood; using it is infinitely easier than scrabbling through tetanus-loaded wire.
This secret, compact dolmen – the only one of the Conwy valley's portal dolmens sporting the customary high portal stones – looks down a tranquil bend in the Conwy valley, towards Llandudno and Great Orme. Although compact, it is deceptively huge from a distance, resulting in the viewer feeling a little surprised on arrival. What is most certainly huge, however, is the capstone. It is utterly gigantic. Despite the fact it has slipped down on the northern side, enough space remains to see the interior of the chamber. It is possible to wriggle inside, which I thought of doing until noticing how the capstone is held in place. (See pictures). Frances Lynch in CADW's publication Gwynedd says this is not for the squeamish. Quite right she is too – I didn't fancy the idea of being crushed by a ten-ton capstone, albeit an appropriate way for a Modern Antiquarian to perish. With my wide beam-end, the dislodging of rocks one way or another was sure to occur. When the arresting Kate saw the pictures the next day, she said "Well, at least it would give you an idea of how it feels to be a grain of wheat under a quern stone."
Although I was initially a tad disappointed in this site, it has stuck in my mind, and on reflection, I enjoyed it very much. It does have something about it which lingers in the psyche. I liked the remaining portal uprights, and the solidity of the site. I imagine if there are bluebells in the wood, it will look most agreeable throughout May. We would have stayed longer – Jane could have made a fab painting of the river vista – but a chilly wind chased us away to the next site.This post appears as part of the blog post " Three Go Mad In Conwy: Part I" |
Another effective method the arresting Kate employed to seduce me. She brought me here on a glorious blue, russet, and gold autumn day, and blew me away. This place is so beautiful, peaceful and completely breathtaking.
When Jane, Moth and I visited, a misty, slightly overcast sky greeted us, and lifted as we left – typically. Nonetheless, a superb view of Snowdonia was afforded which demonstrated beautifully why the ancestors chose this site. As ever, the placing of a Severn-Cotswold long barrow in the heart of North Wales fascinated me. Who were the builders? Were they a group of people who moved up from the south? Were they a tribe who had taken on different belief systems to the others prevalent in the vicinity? Were they traders? There are no such barrows anywhere else up here, so I assume this must be the case. Or could it have been the last one to have been built before that set of beliefs changed? Or is the only one that has survived?
Whatever the reasons, this is a fabulous structure, definitely worth a visit. The remaining capstone (on the western chamber), is awesome, and it is easy to imagine how the thing must have looked when originally built. The post and panel work inside the chambers is a joy to behold, and even though it has been extensively restored, remains of the original dry walling can be seen in the lower courses of the eastern chamber. 5,000 year old dry walling. Cool.
We enjoyed a good half hour here, joined briefly by two other visitors, and watched by many fluffy sheep.This post appears as part of the blog post " Three Go Mad In Conwy: Part I" |
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I remember visiting Hengistbury Head many years ago whilst accompanying my grandmother on a weekend break away from home. As I recall, there is some variety of motorised train ( several carriages hitched to the back of a tractor/land rover) which takes one round the promontory. The whole thing is home to masses of heathland flowers and wildlife; I recall Grandma saying that there was lots of ling growing there. It was very cold and windy, and for some reason I kept thinking about Willan & Searle's '1066 And All That' in which they claimed that it was the spot Hengist and Horsa landed, then started agriculture - or something. Those of you who have read it will know what I'm on about. Good views though.
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This circle of recumbent stones is quite lovely, and lies right next to a smart farmhouse (how is it these Welsh folk get to have such antiquities in their gardens?! See Fairy Oak Round Barrow). Some of the stones have been robbed, but nonetheless, an idea of the commanding nature of the place remains. Fab mountain views are to be had on all sides. Pretty.This post appears as part of the blog post " Berwyn Beauties" |
A large mound, with two uprights like snaggly teeth, sits in a field on the Dee floodplain. This must have been very impressive in its hey-day, but sadly has been robbed for stonework. Still lovely, though, especially under a winter sunset, while a thrush sings through the dusk.This post appears as part of the blog post " Berwyn Beauties" |
This is a stunning site; set in magnificent scenery, relatively diminutive, yet equally as magnificent for its completeness. It is quite easy to believe that the original builders abandoned it a few hundred years ago, let alone 4,000 years ago.
We visited on a classically beautiful late winter afternoon, and were bewitched. The peace of this cosy circle is deeply regenerating; its effect has continued on in me for days. Do visit, and prepare to be transported.This post appears as part of the blog post " Berwyn Beauties" |
A rare and unexpected Bronze Age treat to be found, surprisingly, in the heart of Wrexham. In the centre of Wrexham County Borough Museum stands an unassuming box on a plinth, with a large piece of black foam rubber resting on its top. Lift this up, and suddenly you are transported back in time approximately 3,600 years, as you look down into a Middle Bronze Age burial cist. Even more exciting is the fact that the original inhabitant of this large box remains in situ, grave goods beside his disarticulated bones.
Brymbo Man, as he is known, was discovered in 1968 when a new housing estate was being built in Brymbo (pronounced 'Brumbo'), an outlying village near Wrexham. Near what is now 79 Cheshire View (give a big clue on the terrain; the most wonderful views of the Cheshire Plain can be had from the local hills; evidently just as emotive these days), a workman's pick hit Bronze Age pay-dirt approximately 1 foot below the ground's surface. Intially they had discovered a capstone five and half feet long, but below this lay a burial cist, containing a human skull and a few bones, besides a large beaker and a flint knife. The entire lot, including the cist, was intially moved to the National Museum of Wales in Cardiff - but happily, 30 years later in 1998, Brymbo Man came home to his present resting place in the County Museum.
The museum have made much of this corking find, and have a very good display on the Bronze Age as result - very child friendly, too. Probably the next best object after the cist and remains is the reconstructed head of Brymbo Man, giving an idea of what the ancient peoples of this area looked like; not much has changed, really!
This is a real archaelogical and anthropological gem, well worth a look if ever you are passing.
Find out more at:
http://www.wrexham.gov.uk/english/heritage/brymbo_man/bm_revealed.htm
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Originally discovered when excavations took place in the grounds of Hillbury House. Now very little remains of this barrow in what thse days is the Nazareth House complex. Without the aid of a detailed map (and assistance from the County Archaeologist at the local musuem), you would be forgiven for assuming this rise in the ground was just an attractive piece of landscaping.
Two medium-sized chestnut trees grow out of it, and a unlovely set of flats in the vast Nazareth House grounds back onto half of it; a concrete path cuts across the barrow, access for the flats. Sad.
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A large round barrow dominates a green sward belonging to a Victorian villa in Wrexham, Jewel of North Wales. Fairy Oak lies within the grounds of a Victorian walled garden, with neatly trimmed lawns (as if for croquet), and busy traffic the other side of the red brick walls.
The grassy, rotund barrow - about seven feet high or so, and probably not dissimilar in size to Churn Knob - takes up most of the garden. One huge and clearly ancient oak tree grows out of the southern side of the barrow, whilst an equally huge chestnut springs forth from the south-western corner.
The owners of the property have plonked two fairy silhouette figurines (of the type found at a garden centre near you), on the barrow, the elvish characters racing their way across to the chestnut tree. Sweet. Corny. Inevitable. The trees themselves provide a wonderful amount of shade and a sepulchral, cathedral-like quality to this well-kept round barrow. The house is called 'Fairy Mount', and can be found on 'Fairy Road'. Splendid that the ancient structure is commemorated in the name of the street - even though it is invisible from the road.
The house has just come onto the market - and I can't afford it! Bah!
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The British Camp has to be one of the first ancient monuments I can remember being taken to see as a child. I have very clear memories of playing with my sister on the side of the ramparts on a hot summer's day, and can still visualise rolling down the grassy slopes. I think I was pretending to be a medieval archer, as my brain wasn't able to compute anything much before the 13thC BCE timewise. I do remember feeling that it was an utterly awesome place, and very special. I believe I was about 14 yrs old, and hadn't yet become obsessed with things megalithic.
I recall wondering why the British camped there when they had the whole of the country to camp in, and wondered how long ago they camped in the place, in what sort of tents, and why would they camp on something with so many banks? Seriously. I was an odd child, but that won't surprise readers of this site.
Nine years later, I returned for a nostalgic visit, and can well remember approaching the British Camp from the opposite end of the Malverns. I was deeply impressed with it's size and construction. Through the haze of an August afternoon, in hills covered with banks of rosebay willowherb, the ramparts of this phenomenal fort shimmered into view, huge, impressive, daunting, and glorious at the same time. We didn't quite make the fort itself on that occasion; but that view on an English summer's day, with Elgar's music in my mind (he lived in Great Malvern), will stay with me for the rest of my life.
I'm surprised it hasn't been covered in fieldnotes before, so do take a day out to visit (probably mid-week, to avoid the crowds), as it is wonderful. Jane, it would be a definite subject for a painting!
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What an exquisite place, and an exquisite structure. A definite one to visit, a megarak's must-see.
I said to the arresting Kate that it was a little gem, and then was put in mind of small iced biscuits. Now, I'll never be able to eat a purple-topped Iced Gem without thinking of this most divine example of dolmen building.
It is perfectly constructed in every way, and enjoys terrific views over the Conwy Valley. (See weblog for further details).
Go on. Treat yourself this summer. You won't be disappointed.
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This a confusing one. There is a ring cairn which I believe to be Circle 278 just beyond a far more interesting jumble of stones*, which appear to have been moved about somewhat. There is clearly confusion over the name of this mix of stone; please refer to my weblog for a more in-depth discussion.
It's all very lovely, nonetheless!
*Edit by TMA Ed: the "jumble of stones" is now generally thought to be Monument 280".
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A splendid place. Certainly one to sit and contemplate in for a while, enveloped by the sea, sky, and land which entirely surround the observer on all sides. A large ring, with some significant stones; most spooky being the one that has the form of a white-robed druid.
The location of this circle is intriguing; despite stunning views over Conwy Bay to the north, it has been sited behind a steep mound, thus blocking the view of the sea. Or has the mound been built in front of the circle? There is no doubt that the mound, whatever its origins, is an excellent observation post for anything that might be taking place in the sacred space below.
Also interesting is the proximity of Circle 275 and Circle 278, which flank this larger circle a few hundred yards away on either side. Were they used in conjunction with ceremonies inside the Druid's Circle?
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Small, but perfectly formed. Very endearing, and evidently the smallet circle in the British Isles. I can well believe it. Definitely worth a look when exploring the Penmaenmawr area.
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This is clearly an important and impressive site - and the views it commands must be stupendous. On this occasion, we saw it from the Red Farm circle; yet the size of the boulders that form it are huge, gazing down magisterially from their lofty summit, a significant sight for miles around.
Footpaths circle the whole of the mountain. To reach the peak, the footpath crossing the southwestern side is probably the best choice, but it will still necessitate a hearty stroll across the mountaintop on unmarked land.
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"Out of the strong came forth sweetness"
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Treaclechops died on 4 January 2007 after a three-month battle with cancer. She was 38.
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