Visited: May 12, 2014
Dun Kingsburgh South stands just 300 metres north of the end of the metalled road at Kingsburgh, on a grassy mound to the left of a well-constructed stone dyke. Little remains now of this broch: just a grassy saucer atop the mound with the grass-covered hump of its foundation course visible around much of its perimeter. A few blocks emerge from the grass like irregularly spaced dentures.
Visited: May 11, 2014
Dun Borrafiach lies two kilometres north of Trumpan Church on the Waternish peninsula, and is accessed along a mainly excellent hard track, though there were a couple of rather boggy sections when I visited. Vehicles must be left at the car-park beside the churchyard, adding a 250 metre tramp uphill on tarmac to the journey.
Borrafiach is no mean broch, and much remains to be seen, a considerable stretch of walling rising seven courses in height. The broch itself lies some 300 metres to the east of the path across heathery slopes. A ground-galleried broch, sections of passageway are still in evidence despite all the rubble lying around. The upper part of the entrance passage remains clear though its lower section is overcome by rubble. Two dykes abut the broch, much of which was pillaged in their construction, and also of the numerous enclosures in the neighbourhood.
Visited; May 11, 2014
On a hillside to the east of the village of Hallistra stands Dun Hallin, without doubt one of the best broch remnants on the Isle of Skye, vastly superior to the other Waternish Brochs, Dun Gearymore and Dun Borrafiach. Dun Hallin stands 3.8 metres tall with nine to twelve courses of walling still standing proudly round much of its circumference, particularly impressively around the northwestern arc: this falls to just two or three courses on the south. Most of the interior can boast three courses of internal walling. To the right of the rubble-choked entrance passage is a well preserved guard cell and a mural gallery can be traced on the southwest, where several steps of an intra-mural staircase can be seen.
Dun Hallin is not visible from Hallistra, but can be seen on the hillside to the east when motoring back from Trumpan. To visit the dun requires a walk of a half-kilometre from Hallistra up the road that connects it with the east coast communities of Geary, Knockbreck and Gillen, followed by a pleasant walk southwards over gentle heathery slopes to the dun, which readily becomes apparent once the first rise has been ascended. Total distance: just under a kilometre.
This stone row is a few kms from the village of Letterfrack in Galway. It is located on a ridge of a boggy hill only approximately 200m from the road. The stone row itself is a fine example, it tapers from south-west to north-east with the first three stones being sharp rectangular stones. The fourth stone is a rounded smooth stone and then the final two are very small smooth stones. The day I visited was very misty and so unfortunately I couldn’t take in all the views. However through the mist I could make-out the recumbent figure of the island of inisbofin to the north-west. (seen from a different site in the vicinity megalithomania.com/show/image/4291/cleggan.htm)
The stone row is thought to be aligned to the winter solstice sunset. However the sunsets here at 1.30pm in the afternoon due to the varying heights of the location of the stone row and the mountains around.
When I was exiting the field, a farmer told me that I shouldn’t be on the land as their was a “no-entry” sign. The sign is very hard to see so anyone attempting to access should be aware of this.
The best way to find this site is to park at the Braes Of Gight car park between Fyvie and Methlick on the B9005. Head south and quite literally batter thru the trees, the bhoy’s first faltering steps back were indeed faltering. Armed with our arms, and a grid ref machine (very handy as this site is almost impossible to find), we went on a mazy path south. Fortunately the site is in a clearing.
The hut circle is over 19 meters wide and is best preserved on the north east. Here the wall is 4 meters wide. Sadly the wall to the west has gone due to the forestation. However the front door, at the eastern side, survives and is over 2 meters wide. Some of the wall to the south also survives.
With that we battered thru the trees to east to find the main track. Heading south we walked past Gight Castle to rejoin the track following the banks of the River Ythan towards Methlick.
Visited 15/5/2014
Visited 11th May 2014
Winding our way around the scenic west side of Mainland after a visit to Staneydale Temple, and the landscape is like Scandinavia in miniature, each turn of the road allowing a vista over another fjord like sheltered inlet, and occasional coloured wooden houses clustered together around the coast. I’m navigating whilst Ellen drives, and I suggest we head towards Aith, a village our information leaflet optimistically describes as ‘a large township in a scenic setting’. Whilst Ellen has visions of a little coastal town replete with coffee shops, my ulterior motive is that I’ve spotted those magical words ‘chambered cairn’ on the O.S. map right next to the road we will follow out of the village.
While I wouldn’t exactly describe Aith as large in any shape or form, it’s certainly in a picturesque setting, but sadly lacking anywhere to get a coffee, so onwards we go around the coast of Aith Voe, before the promised cairn appears in a field to our left.
There is a handily placed passing place right by the fieldgate, so we pull in. Ellen stays in the car, worried me might block the road should we be caught up in the Shetland rush hour, but given that the volume of traffic along this road seems to be at best one car per hour, I think we’ll be pretty safe.
I open the gate and am approached by two curious rams, who look at me expectantly as if I’ve brought them some food, and follow me at a distance to the nearby cairn.
It’s a small structure, a ‘peerie’ mound as they’d say in these parts, but despite being dug into, denuded and raddled with rabbit holes, enough of the form remains to give a good impression. Large stones outline the central chamber, and again the siting of the monument takes in a lovely vista overlooking a sheltered bay, in this case East Burra Firth itself.
I really like it here, I know I always seem to wax enthusiastic about each new site I find, but it does have an indefinable atmosphere, a certain pull here which gives the place a presence beyond the size of its actual physical remains. Maybe it’s the setting, or perhaps the joy of finding somewhere new but I loved it. I do my usual thing of taking photos from every conceivable angle and sit in the dip of the mound to write my fieldnotes, sheltered from the wind. I don’t want to leave Ellen on her own in the car for too long, and she’s still reticent about entering the field, more so now due to the rams still giving me the eyeball from near the gate, so before long I bid my goodbyes to the cairn, farewell East Burrafirth, it was lovely to make your acquaintance.
Since my last visit, almost four years ago, the stone has been penned behind a new barbed wire fence. But nothing really detracts here. The stone itself is tall and shapely, interesting with its hollow shoulder. The setting, in the amphitheatre of the ridges, is sublime. It’s taken a little over four hours to get here from Glangrwyney, including earlier stops on the way. I settle with my back to stone and let the peace and beauty of the place sink in.
The distance between the Disgwylfa cairn and the various “piles of stones” marked on the map seems too long, despite the easy walking involved. One of the piles looks like a candidate for an older cairn, although Coflein doesn’t agree. By contrast, I pass what turns out to be the Nant yr Ychen cairn with barely a glance. There is no sign of an obvious mound and the pile marks the junction of footpaths. There are yet more terrific views though, except to the north where my day’s highpoint, Pen Twyn Mawr, blocks off everything beyond.
I head up to the top of Blaen-yr-Henbant, ignoring the more obvious scar of the Beacons Way to get the best of the views. The breeze up here is very stiff, but worth enduring to reveal the nearby hillfort of Twyn y Gaer Camp and the unmistakeable summit of The Sugarloaf/Pen y Fal. The best view is behind me, where Crug Hywel and the domed summit of becairned Pen Cerrig-calch form the backdrop to the valley now far below. The route drops briefly before rising again, steeper now as it reaches the final pull to the summit of Crug Mawr, at 550m OD the fingertip of the Gadair ridge, the third and highest of the five ridges forming the “hand” of the Black Mountains.
It is very blowy at the summit trig, so I press straight on – the principle objective of today’s walk is now directly ahead. Dropping from the top, the path turns darker and wetter, grassy slopes replaced with peat and a surrounding cover of heather, mercifully low at this time of the year. A trio of ponies block the path, but they are young and skittish, scampering away as I prepare to divert around them.
It’s not far from Crug Mawr to the Disgwylfa cairn, though I miss the turn off the main path slightly, as the cairn disappears from view briefly, blocked by the intervening ground. As I cut across the heather, the stone pile atop the cairn appears first. Some of the boulders in the pile have been painted red or blue, inexplicably. But the mound beneath is much bigger, prominent despite the covering vegetation. The centre has been scooped out and presumably provides the majority of the material for the stone pile. There is no sign of a cist or central structure. The views are brilliant, taking in the splendid summit of Pen-y-Gadair Fawr along the ridge, while the beehive’d cairn of Garn Wen can be seen on the next ridge to the east. The top of the Sugarloaf peaks out behind Crug Mawr, although the hazy sunlight makes visibility limited in that direction.
Following the Grwyne Fawr valley north, the next village is Llanbedr, but before that there is the small matter of a pair of standing stones in a little wood, once again a little to the west of the river. The Coflein record suggests that the smaller, southern stone of the pair may have been destroyed or lost during tree felling some decades ago. I passed here once before, in very deep snow on my way back down from a visit to the wonderful Crug Hywel fort. On that occasion everything was hidden beneath a mantle of snow, with black tree stumps punctuating the pristine surface – not really ideal conditions to look for little stones and I went by without stopping.
Today presents a much better chance. The undergrowth that will carpet the woodland floor come the late spring and summer is only just beginning to make its presence felt, so despite some bramble-tangling to negotiate, it’s reasonably easy to get through the trees. Taking the OS map at face value, I head into the wood and straight uphill in the direction of where I hope the smaller “lost” stone would be. The sun has started to get through the cloud now, filtering through the light foliage in a way that never fails to lift the heart.
And, halfway up the slope, there it is! Not lost, not destroyed, but exactly where the map shows it to be. To find this stone, lost but found, will be enough to make my day worthwhile even if all else fails. It’s a very small stone, rather less than a metre tall and embedded into a bank with what looks like a old trackway running down to it from the southwest. A slab of old red sandstone, almost completely covered in moss and easy to miss as a tree stump. It is particularly angular for a prehistoric stone and it would be easy enough to believe that it might have a later date. Having said that, the abundance of other standing stones along the valleys of the Grwyne Fawr and Fechan give credence to it being part of the same family, aspected to the watercourse.
I head north below the tree cover, angling slightly downhill and closer to the road as I pick my way under the low branches. Not far on, I see a regular shape below me, nearer to the road than I expected. Closer inspection reveals that it is indeed a large, recumbent slab. Carl records that the northern stone has fallen and it looks to me as though this is a fairly recent occurrence. The scar left as it tore away from the sloping setting is still visible, and small stones and earth lie on top of the stone’s base, presumably left from its fall. It’s a shame, as this would be a fine stone if put back up again. Like its southern partner it’s a slab, much wider than thick. Its top is pyramidal, very similar to the shape of other stones in the Brecon Beacons National Park, the nearest example being at Standard Street, only a mile or so distant from this site.
The northern stone is visible from the road, through a gap in the trees.
Llangenny/Llangenau standing stone is smaller than I was expecting, a rather grey sandstone with a small, irregular and presumably natural hole near its top. It is set on a small rise, below a much steeper slope, a little to the west of the Grwyne Fechan – another of South Wales’ many waterside stones then. Chickens abound, belonging to the house next to the stone, which has been kept obligingly unfenced although a lot of new fencing has appeared since Elderford’s earlier picture. Despite this, I don’t feel overly at ease here. Perhaps it’s the oppressive cloud cover, perhaps it’s all the signs proliferating in the village, but I don’t feel like lingering. Perhaps just as well, because I have more stones to visit and a big hill to climb.
This is another (once) local site that I haven’t visited for probably decades, but today I’m here with my sister making our way from Avebury Trusloe the day after we’d been down to Devon for an uncle’s funeral. The weather looks like it’s on the point of raining all afternoon, but today we are lucky and it holds off and the air is suffused with the fresh smell of Spring. Walking through the hamlet the first thing that strikes us is the number of large sarcens in peoples garden walls (particularly Swan house in Bray Street) and, given the proximity of Adam and Eve across the adjacent field, we can’t help wondering if some of these stones came from the Beckhampton Avenue? Maybe not as whole stones, but perhaps pieces from destroyed stones.
Making the gradual climb up to the top of Windmill Hill it seems odd that a hill as low and unremarkable as this seems to have been so important, acting as it were, as a springboard for the whole Avebury ritual landscape. So much activity in quite a small space though, as you begin to take in the faint rings of the inner circles, the lower tumuli beyond the outer circle and, most obviously, the large bell barrows nearer the centre of the monument. The position of the hill is also quite interesting as it affords views down on to Avebury (though you can’t see any stones due to the surrounding trees and vegetation, but maybe you could when it was being built), Silbury Hill to the South, the Ridgeway to the East and Cherhill Down and Oldbury to the South West.
Having walked around the outer ring we discover some recent mole activity and begin to kick over the little spoil heaps. Almost immediately I’m rewarded with a small piece of ceramic about 2.5 x 1.5cm in size and shaped roughly like the Isle of Wight. There are two very faint parallel grooves incised on its outside curve. In addition to this we find two small globules of iron that look like failed castings of musket balls (any ideas?). We sit for a while and contemplate our surroundings before making our way back down across the fields to Avebury and the circle. Just in time for tea.
Visited 9th May 2014
When picking a megalith to visit just on the basis of that intriguing gothic script saying ‘standing stone’ on the O.S. map you never know quite what you are going to get. But in the case of Mid Field what you get is a fine stone in a beautiful setting looking out over South Voe.
On the drive down West Burra we had a close encounter with an otter, which ran out across the road right in front of the car (fortunately we managed to stop in time!). It really is picturesque here.
As Carl mentions in his fieldnote the stone is easy to spot from the minor road south of Bridge End. We pulled up in a passing place almost adjacent to the stone, and at first I head down to the end of the fence to access the field via a gate. On getting there though I notice an assemblage of sheep pen fencing forming an enclosure next to the gate, with visions of the whole lot collapsing were I to clamber over it, I think again. Never one to be deterred though when it comes to visiting stones I turn to plan B, and looking as if I’m about to emulate a John Cleesesque silly walk, manage to step over the relatively low fence.
There are no sheep in the field today though, only three rather friendly Shetland ponies. The stone is fin shaped and angled towards the loch below, with the surrounding hills providing an impressive backdrop. With this stone it’s all about the location, the relatively modest proportions of the stone belying the overall impact it has when you are here.
Burra is only around ten miles from Lerwick, and easily accessible, and I can only echo Carl’s words and say come and pay it a visit!
Visited 10th May 2014
Heading up Mainland for Northmavine the clouds were gathering in already overcast skies, but you don’t come to Shetland for the weather, rather for its wild landscapes, wildlife and of course a rather generous selection of standing stones.
The Busta stone is one such impressive monolith, and easy to spot from the A970 just past Brae.
Turning off the main road we parked in a small layby next to a cattle grid, the other side of which was the gate allowing access to the field, empty today apart from the stone itself.
The wind was whipping at us as we approached, the bulk of the stone looming high above us, and providing a seemingly warming embrace, as we huddled in its lea out of the wind. The stone is huge, it’s difficult to get an idea of its scale until you stand next to it, the ever present shrubby lichen masking its top half.
This is a great location for a standing stone, looking out over the waters of Busta Voe, and one face of the stone does indeed seem to take on the aspect of a head rising from the ground, the lichen like a blindfold over its eyes. Canmore mentions a possible second stone, now fallen, to the east, and whilst I did notice a smaller stone nearby protruding from the ground, I didn’t really think to check it out, thinking it probably natural.
The huge granite lump of the stone seems somehow smaller as we walk away, swallowed in the wild landscapes of Shetland, but it’s certainly one of the more accessible menhirs here, and a must visit in these far flung northern parts.
Later on returning from the hinterlands of Northmavine we pass the stone again as we follow in Carl’s footsteps and call in for some chips at Frankie’s, and have no hesitation in recommending both the chippie and the stone!
Visited 6th May 2014
Gorgeous day at Brodgar. I walked over to the huge mound of Salt Knowe, still currently fenced off, to see how the anti-rabbit proofing was getting on. It didn’t take long before I had my answer, as several families of bunnies could be seen happily enjoying the sunshine on the slopes of the mound.
The green matting used to cover the Knowe currently gives it a threadbare appearance, and several holes leading to burrows were clearly visible gnawed through the mesh, so it looks like a rethink may be in order!
Visited 7th May 2014
Hunda is a small uninhabited island attached to the larger isle of Burray by a causeway. As well as being a great place to see birds, seals and apparently one of the best spots on Orkney for otter spotting, it also sports the remains of a hulking great cairn.
The weather today is as good a day as you could wish for, lovely blue skies, some genuine warmth to the sun, and the warm zephyr like breeze is most un-Orcadian. So after a nice lunch at the café of the Burray Rock & Fossil museum a walk was in order, and even better one that takes in a visit to an ancient site. A short drive south past the waters of Echna loch, brings you to a right turn signposted to Littlequoy, and following the lane to its end, near the farm of the same name, gave us a bit of verge on which we could park the car.
The sea sparkled blue below us, and we could see Hunda stretched out across the narrow sound, with the causeway of Hunda reef cutting through the water. A walk down the farm track allows you to access the foreshore without having to walk across the farmyard, and we walked along the pebbly beach to the causeway accompanied by the echoing cries of Oystercatchers.
The causeway is a permanent one, not cut off by tides, so no danger of stranding on a barren island today, although care must be taken on its slightly uneven surface, and I certainly wouldn’t attempt to cross in bad weather, as I’m sure it could be fairly easily overtopped by waves, so as ever on any visit a certain amount of caution is required.
The cairn at Cairnhead is clearly visible on the southern tip of the island as we cross the causeway, two modern cairns at either end of it sticking up like small ears. A clearly trodden path leads all around the coast of Hunda, and we follow it across a small stretch of heathland up to the cairn.
Up close its size is impressive, the top is now heavily denuded of stones, looking as if someone’s taken a giant scoop out of it, but it does uncover what might be the remains of a cist. The two modern cairns at either end delineate the width of the mound, and make it an unmistakable landmark. We sit at the cairn and relax for a while enjoying the lovely views out over Scapa Flow. The blues of sky and sea are almost surreal, and the bright pinprick of light from the Flotta flare at the oil terminal to the west marks the horizon. Due south the cairn of The Wart, atop Hoxa Hill on South Ronaldsay is directly in line, and I wonder if there is any significance in the alignment?
Canmore reckons The Cairnhead may have been a broch, but I just don’t see it myself, I can’t find any features that are vaguely ‘brochlike’, yet a cist chamber is visible? Hmm, well they’re the experts I suppose.
Whatever it may have been (and sometimes the uncertainty just adds to the mystery of the place) this is a lovely spot, made all the better by the solitude. Ellen and I are currently the only human beings on this island, and relaxing here, contemplating, and just watching and listening to the myriad of birds that make this place their home, pervaded by the atmosphere of this ancient place, the magic of Orkney has us captivated once again.
Visited 3rd May 2014
There’s a wildness to the far north of Scotland, a bleak beauty and atmosphere quite unlike anywhere else, and surprisingly more ancient remains than you might realise. On our regular trips back up to Orkney we’ve been making an effort to try and visit at least one new place each time. Today the lucky site was Dunbeath broch, a nice and easily accessible site to break up our ten hour drive.
The A9 normally thunders past the village of Dunbeath, but if you take the time to turn off and park at the Dunbeath heritage centre, an old mill signposted from the turn and a mere minute from the A9, you’ll be right next to a nice footpath which leads to the broch, as well as, according to the nearby information board, a few other enticing megalithic sites.
The walk along the Strath of Dunbeath is beautiful, the babbling of the river a gentle accompaniment to your stroll, with little sound other than that of birds to be heard. The trees flanking the path are shrouded with a pale green moss, which hangs from the branches in wisps, and adds to the ethereal atmosphere.
Soon we are confronted by a slightly wonky looking Indiana Jones style wooden suspension bridge over the river, which despite my remonstrance’s to Ellen about its structural integrity, wobbles and creaks in such as precarious manner as to cause her some consternation. I scoot across it, and with some encouragement Ellen joins me on the other side, where the path forks. Directly ahead the path heads up a steep incline, at the top of which a dry stone wall is visible enclosing a stand of trees, and within which I know the broch can be found.
The broch is not the biggest or best preserved I’ve ever seen, but any shortcomings it might have are more than made up for by its atmosphere. Inside the enclosure of the dry stone walls a circle of moss covered trees protectively surround the remains of the broch. The open tower interior faces you, with the highest remaining parts of the walls at the back, and a small entranceway to a chamber built into the thickness of the wall encouraging you in. Although a low stoop is required to enter the chamber once inside it’s possible to stand upright, the roof, displaying fine corbelling, must be a good 7’ high.
I’m impressed with Dunbeath. As I walk around the exterior of the ruined broch wild primroses can be seen growing in clumps at the base of the walls, the sheltering trees reach out skeletal, branch like fingers over the tower, and mosses and grass colonising the still firm masonry give a sense of the broch gradually settling into the landscape and becoming another part of nature. I feel like I’ve stumbled upon something from a landscape out of Game of Thrones, but of course this is better because it’s real, and I’m here, enjoying just another part of Caithness’ rich historic remains.
We’re conscious of the time, having a ferry to catch, but it’s been much better spending time here rather than hanging around in Scrabster waiting for the boat (if you’ve ever been to Scrabster you’ll appreciate why!) and it’s a place that definitely warrants a return visit, especially since a visit to the broch can be combined with a lovely tree lined walk which continues along the river and on to some chambered cairns and a standing stone further down the valley.
Another possible passage grave, and so close to home too. Goldenhill is a funny little hill, to the left just off the N81 as you head for Blessington. 274 metres high, but rising slowly and gently from the aforesaid road at about 200 metres. East of the hill is Kilbride, Cill Bhríde (good old Brigid) down in the Brittas river valley, just north of where it joins the Liffey.
I’d never heard of it until I was browsing Herity’s book and surfing the NMR map browser. And there it was in Price too. Three mounds/cairns/raths/possible passage graves. So off we set, 10 minutes up through Ballinascorney, down into Brittas, left at The Lamb just inside Wicklow and first turn right up the incline to the ridge/hill.
You can see the main monument here from the road. Looking west, the fosse/ditch on the east side is visible. There were a bunch of people, the landowner and his relatives, in the field messing about on a quad-bike. We sauntered over to them and asked permission to have a look. He said no problem. I asked if he knew much about the monuments. He said that the main one, the rath, was a fairy fort, and that the second one, the mound to its south, had original stones and field clearance mixed in. He also mentioned that the “heritage people” had told him to “leave them alone”. I remarked that I was sure he would have complied with that without the instruction, bad luck and all that. He agreed.
So the minor one first: Pretty much a denuded cairn, some original kerbstones remain, mainly in the south-west quadrant. It’s about 20 metres in diameter and under a metre high, really just a raised platform. You’d be forgiven for wondering why it was robbed of its stone only to have field clearance heaped on it later. Pretty unremarkable stuff anyway, except that it has such a prestigious neighbour, leaving one to wonder which came first.
Over to the rath/possible passage grave. It’s very impressive, whatever its provenance. The view across to the passage grave cemetery at Seefin/Seefingan/Seahan is great, slightly spoiled by the telegraph line and poles. It really feels that the inhabitants here wanted to be looked over by the ancestors. The mound is about three and a half metres high, the ditch/fosse mainly in evidence on the south-eastern arc. North of east is the supposed entrance with the large stones that, along with the structural stones in the interior, made some think passage grave. These are a bit jumbled but seem to mark out the entrance to the rath/mound.
Six stones of varying size and some smaller ones make a rectangular, almost box-like structure just outside the rath entrance. I’ve seen a similar construction at Knockscur themodernantiquarian.com/site/10620#post-63878 I imagine that this may have been some sort of “contamination/quarantine zone” before you were allowed to enter the rath, sort of like a mini-court. One of these large stones has a gorgeous quartz vein running through it. Another seems to have been split. There is always the chance that these were very late additions – only excavation will tell. There are other large kerb-like stones around the circumference of the mound, in particular at the south quadrant.
The interior is a mess, with 6 to 8 pits dug into the raised floor. These are a distraction to interpretation – it has been said that they might be evidence of huts inside the rath, but I can’t agree, the rath being large but not large enough to contain that many separate dwellings/buildings. There is one very cist-like structure in one of these pits – Price changed his mind about this and said possibly “a ruined hut (door?)” but again I can’t agree. The covering stone here is very much like a capstone and from what I could see, it seems to cover a rectangular stone box.
So what is it? I reckon that this is an old cairn that was re-used as a rath, a ‘fairy-fort’ in common parlance. It may well have been a passage grave, situated as it is almost on the top of the hill, and in the shadow of Seefin and Seefingan. The hill is elongated north to south, and as the rath is situated west of the the summit, the most expansive views are in that direction, over the N81 towards the ridge of hills that begin at Saggart Hill and terminate just west of Blessington. A not very well-known and mysterious place, fascinating all the more for that reason.
Visited 30.4.14
The idea for an Easter break in Chesterfield was in order to knock several English Heritage sites off the list (I have now visited just over half of the 400 or so sites). Due to time constraints I hadn’t intended to visit the Wet Withens stone circle but each day I looked at the map the little blue square surrounding it called out to me. In the end it all became too much and I just had to somehow squeeze a visit in.
The chance came one evening as we were heading back to the Travelodge. Although it was still quite early (about 6.30pm) it was already starting to get dark. The sky was filled with black clouds and it was obvious a storm was on the way – confirmed by the weather forecast.
We parked at the point where the road out of Grindleford takes a sharp turn to the south towards Eyam. There is plenty of room to park here. The rest stayed in the car as I tried to work out the best way towards the site. There is a stone stile leading to a path which runs to the north-west and another path which leads north-east. I opted for the north-west which in hindsight was a mistake. The path runs parallel to a drystone wall and after walking for a bit it was obvious I was going way off course and I had to climb over the wall in order to head in an eastern direction towards the circle. It would have been better to have approached via the other path and have avoided the wall altogether.
Despite previous TMA site reports I could find no path which lead to the circle.
All I could see was a sea of knee-high heather. Luckily it had been dry for several days and the dry bracken crunched under my feet. In wet weather I am sure it would be quite bogy. With compass in hand I headed for where I thought the circle should be. I could see nothing but heather. I headed further east but again nothing.
All of a sudden a bolt of forked lightening made me jump as it struck the hilltop opposite. A loud rumble of thunder quickly followed. The sky was black and the storm was clearly heading my way. I looked around – it dawned on me that I was the highest point on this open moorland hilltop. Not the ideal place to be in a lightening storm! Time to get a move on.
To my relief not much later I spotted the tops of several stones sticking out just above the heather. In all honesty the circle was a disappointment. Perhaps it would have looked better had the heather been cleared away? The tops of some stones sticking out of a sea of heather did not seem much of a reward for the effort it took in getting to the circle. Although the views are pretty good to be fair.
The Cairn slightly north of the circle was easier to make out.
I could not spot any of the cairns shown on the map south of Wet Withens.
At this point large raindrops began to fall. Time to get back to the car.
I had been gone for over an hour and the gang were restless by the time I got back.
As we drove down into Eyam the heavens opened. We had to pull over as it was like driving in a power shower. The road turned into a stream and all was black. After about 10 minutes the cloudburst had run its course and things started to dry up.
I was glad I had made the effort to visit the stone circle but in all honesty I thought it was a lot of effort to see not much.
Why this circle appears on a ‘normal’ AA map when many other better (and more accessible) stone circles don’t, I don’t know.
I prefer the AA map to others produced as I find it clearer and easier to use. I do however wonder what criteria they use when deciding which standing stones / circles / hillforts etc to put on the map. You would expect to see the Stonehenge / Avebury type sites but Wet Withens? I would say your average holiday maker would have no chance of finding this site and even if they did, would be very disappointed with what they found.
Perhaps I will E-Mail the AA to ask them?
Visited 2.5.14
Directions:
Follow the track that skirts the edge of Hell Bank Plantation.
Where the track turns sharply to the south-west a ‘path’ continues to the north-west. Here you will find a small wooden sign pointing to Hob Hurst’s House or to Robin Hood’s House. Take the path towards Robin Hood’s House. As the path takes a slight turn to the right come off the path and head to the right (east). Although the circle can’t be seen from the path you shouldn’t have too much difficulty spotting it.
The walk only takes about 15 minutes from where you park the car.
The stone circle is actually quite circular! The circle is about 8m in diameter.
Nearly all of the stones have fallen. One is leaning at an accute angle and only one is upright. This stone is about 1m high.
In the centre of the circle are lots of large stones.
The surroundings are of bleak (in a nice way) open moorland with good views.
I liked this stone circle (much better than Wet Withens!) and would highly recommend a look when visiting the more famous nearby Hob Hurst’s House.
Despite the fact that several cars were parked up I saw no one else at either site.
Visited 2.5.14
Although the moor is covered in knee/waist high heather this Cairn is easy to spot for two reasons.
Firstly it is quite large and secondly it is right next to the track skirting Hell Bank Plantation. This is the track you take when visiting Hob Hurst’s House / Park Gate stone circle.
The Cairn is also covered in heather but its size gives its location away.
I did not spot any of the other nearby Cairns – although to be fair I wasn’t going out of my way to look for them!
Worth a quick look when passing when visiting the other sites
Visited 2.5.14
Following the difficulty I experienced in finding the Wet Withens stone circle I approached the visit to Hob Hurst’s House with a little trepidation. As this is an E.H. site I did not want to fail to find this one! As it turned out there was no need to worry as this site is very much easier to find and to access.
Rather than make directly for Hob Hurst’s House I chose to go via the Park Gate stone circle. I would certainly recommend this route as the walk takes about the same time, has a clear ‘path’ to follow and of course takes in an extra site – two for the price of one!
As before, I suggested the children stay with Karen as I think they are still a bit young for open moorland type walks. In hindsight Dafydd would have been ok for this visit.
I walked along the track which skirts the edge of the cheerfully named Hell Bank Plantation (actually quite pleasant), passing the Beeley Warren Cairn on the way. Where the track turns sharply to the south-west a ‘path’ continues to the north-west. Here you will find a small wooden sign pointing to Hob Hurst’s House (north) or to Robin Hood’s House (north-west along the path). Is Robin Hood’s House another name for Park Gate stone circle?
I carried along the path and shortly came to the stone circle (see other fieldnotes).
From the stone circle there were tyre tracks leading north towards the trees next to Hob Hurst’s House. I followed the tyre tracks and re-joined a ‘path’ near a small wooden walkway over a burn. The path continued north running parallel to the trees, up an incline. When you get to the highest point you will see a tall white metal pole which is painted red on top. Walk to the pole and you will then see Hob Hurst’s House to your right – behind a protective fence. This is crossed via a stile.
Reading previous fieldnotes I wasn’t expecting too much from this site but (probably because my expectation levels were so low) I was pleasantly surprised. The site occupies a prominent position on a ridge affording decent views. Hob’s House isn’t very big but it is in pretty good condition. The bank/ditch has been thankfully kept free of the ever invasive heather. The edges of the site have been marked out with small concrete posts.
The information board states this site was one of the first monuments to be taken into state care in 1882. I was surprised that such a small and remote site would have been one of the first to be protected.
I sat inside the inner depression (out of the wind) to write my fieldnotes and contemplated for a while. I knew I couldn’t be too long as the others had already been waiting a long time for me. The outer ditch is about 1.5m deep and the inner depression about 0.5m deep. The inner depression is lined with stones.
I headed back the way I had come but once I reached the little wooden footbridge I took the path south back to the car instead of the path west to the stone circle.
It takes about 15 minutes to walk from the car to the stone circle and then another 15 minutes from the circle to Hob Hurst’s House. If you walked direct to Hob Hurst’s House it would take about the same time – 30 minutes each way.
I was very pleased to have knocked this E.H. site off the list as it is one of the most awkward to visit. I think Hob Hurst’s House is well worth the effort.
Directions:
North of the village of Kirton in Lindsey – along the B1400.
We parked near the public footpath sign and I walked up the muddy track which skirts around a small lake. There is no public right of way to the Barrow but it can be seen on the opposite side of the lake from the water’s edge – a grass mound in a field.
E.H. state:
‘The barrow is 1.5m high and 45m in diameter. The barrow has twice been investigated by antiquarians. The first investigation (1867) found a layer of partially cremated bones and two urns in the centre of the mound. The second excavation (1911) found a layer of burnt earth’.
Visited 1.5.14
This was the highlight of the week for me.
I was looking forward to visiting Creswell gorge and I wasn’t disappointed.
We parked in the car park and myself and Dafydd headed for the visitor’s centre. Karen stayed in the car with Sophie who was asleep.
A sign said that there had recently been a fire and some of the exhibits had been temporarily removed. Because of this the entry fee was reduced to a bargain £2 for me and £1 for Dafydd. This caused me some alarm but I needn’t had worried as the bone engravings of the horse and ‘Pin Hole Man’ were still on display.
My face lit up as I was actually able to see these famous engravings in real life!
After spending a fair bit of time looking around the other exhibits we headed out across the meadow towards the caves. The escorted tours only run on the weekend which was disappointing but we were still able to walk around the gorge. We stopped at each information board and looked through the metal bars into the caves. Some of the smaller caves were not barred and Dafydd had great fun ‘exploring’ these little recesses.
It was the only non-sunny day of the holiday. The weather being still but foggy. This only added to the atmosphere.
This is a great place to come and I would heartily recommend a visit if you are ever in the area. I certainly plan to come back one day (on a weekend) when I can have a tour of the caves and see the cave art for myself.
A ‘view from afar’ 4.5.14
Directions:
East along the coastal path from Dunraven Hillfort
I would say that the creation of the coastal path around Wales is one of the best things the Welsh Government has done. It really is a great place to walk although you do have to take care as the path is often very close to the cliff edge and there is very little in the way of protective fences etc.
We passed through two kissing-gates and eventually came to a stone wall, where the path continues down through a gorge and then up to the Cwm Bach site. Dafydd had been moaning most of the way and said he was too tired to walk any further and no doubt he wanted to get onto the beach – which was fair enough. He said that I should go on alone and come back for him. Given that he is only 6 and we were on top of a cliff this was clearly not an option! I would have to admit defeat on this one.
However, on the plus side, the single grass covered curving bank of the enclosure could be clearly seen in the distance. It was difficult to determine the height of the bank from this distance but I would guess at about 1 metre.
One for another day perhaps?
On the way back we walked through the pretty Dunraven walled gardens.
Funnily enough as we reached the beach Dafydd’s legs suddenly got better and he was even able to manage a jog – spade in hand of course!
