Latest Fieldnotes

20/02/2010 – Parked at NT 24956697. Walked west, taking the path towards Allermuir Hill. Cairn is near summit of Caerketton Hill. Great view from it of Edinburgh. Stopped for a coffee in the ski centre on the way down.

20/02/2010 – Big car park at NT 55308427 on the west side of North Berwick Law. Path up the hill is short but steep. Fantastic 360 view, Bass rock etc. Very cold February day when we were there. Well worth a visit.

Lord’s Piece is a strange little triangle of heathland just south of the River Rother near Fittleworth. As somebody else aptly put it, “it’s like a little bit of the New Forest placed in the heart of West Sussex”. Where the name derives from I’ve no idea, but within the few acres of this conservation area are at least five barrows made up of a linear group of three and a pair (one large, one small) on a small ridge to the south. Also visible are a number of boundary markers criss-crossing the land which I at first thought were contemporary with the barrows until I came to the middle barrow of the linear group and discovered a ‘boundary marker’ passing right through the centre of the barrow, which seems unlikely to have been the barrow builder’s original intention. The linear group are all roughly the same size, about 10-12m across but not very high at about 2m max and they’ve all recently been cleared of vegetation and are now adorned with giant wire ‘hair nets’ (or at least that’s what it looked like from a distance) which I guess keeps the local rabbits and badgers at bay. The two barrows on the ridge are interesting because of the disparity in size, the larger being about 10m across and 2.5m high whereas the smaller barrow about 30m distant is only about 4m across and barely rises more than 0.5m. The larger barrow also has a curious hole at its northern edge almost suggesting that this was the source of its material, though it’s so messy no Bronze Age barrow builder worth his salt would ever admit to this below par workmanship! It’s probably more modern than that, possibly a dried up drinking hole for cattle. Parking is very easy as there are two small carparking areas on the western side of the heath.

Visited 6.3.12

What would you like to do for our anniversary? I asked the ever patient Karen.
‘Let’s go to Monmouth for the day’ she replied. So that is what we did.

Monmouth is a very nice town and well worth a visit – it has the only surviving medieval fortified bridge in Britain (built 1270) -you can also feed the ducks from the bridge!

So after a couple of hours rummaging through the many charity shops they have (Karen likes a bargain) it was time for a bit of ‘old stoning’.

We headed east out of Monmouth along the A4136. Just as you enter the village of Staunton there is a turning on the right with a ‘dead end’ sign. Turn here and there is room to park on the side of the road. This is just in front of the driveway to Buckstone Adventure Centre.

From here there is a public footpath sign to the right. All you have to do is follow the ‘path’ up through the woods (pretty walk) for about 10 minutes – keeping the drystone wall to your right. There are many moss covered large boulders you pass along the way. When you get to the top of the hill you will see a covered reservoir on your left and a sign for the Buckstone on your right. Through the wooden gate and you are there.

Apparently until 1775 it was thought that the Buckstone could be rocked.
‘The stone attracted many attempts to topple it until the feat was achieved in 1885 by a party of 5 travelling actors and a Monmouth innkeeper. The stone split into several pieces but at the expenses of the Crown (the landowner) it was cemented back together and secured in place with an iron bar.’

The stone itself is very large – approximately 2.5 metres high x 8 metres long. It has superb views down the valley. It reminded me very much of the Devil’s Pulpit stone overlooking Tintern Abbey. The repair made to the stone with cement is clearly visible as is the rusting iron bar sticking out of one end. It is probably fortunate that this is not an easy stone to climb up. I think only those quite agile (not me!) would be able to do so.

There are two Trig points next to the stone.
Under the Buckstone I spotted a Tupperware dish with a stone on top.
I opened the dish and discovered 3 small numbered stones and a piece of paper asking visitors to identify which of the small stones is made of the same material as the Buckstone? I assume this is something to do with the nearby Adventure Centre?

What I also wasn’t expecting to see were the several large boulders near the Buckstone. One of these looked like a basin (natural?) which was full of water. I could well imagine this being used in ancient times for some reason or other.

Before visiting this site I had some trepidation as I thought it may be a difficult one to access / find. I had no reason the worry. It is quite the reverse. On a public footpath and is actually sign posted near the stone with a new-look gate giving access.

The stone is well worth a visit when in the area.

Excellent little promontory fort, this, set upon a promontory (funnily enough) overlooking, but shielded by woodland from the Afon Ogwr as it reaches the Bristol Channel below to the approx west. A fine, substantial bank, preceded by ditch, provides a defensive screen to the east, steeply sloping ground doing ‘the business’ at the other points of the compass very nicely indeed, thank you very much. Economy of effort was clearly the name of the game back then. Intelligent people, those that designed, erected and called Fleming’s Down ‘home’.

Unfortunately the same adjective can not, by any stretch of the imagination, be applied to the moron who decided to have a nice, big bonfire within the aforementioned ditch, so leaving a truly unrighteous mess as grim testament to his (or her) terminal lack of mental capability. Honestly, sometimes I really can’t begin to comprehend what planet some people are on. Draw your own conclusions as to the culprit, bearing in mind the site must be approached on foot....

However I guess the scars will fade... eventually... and Fleming’s Down nevertheless provided a great perch for the Mam C and I for a couple of hours. We approached via the footpath to the east of the water works on the B4524, parking in a layby near the Pelican public house (incidentally very good – the pub, not the layby, unless you happen to be into such things, that is). The footpath provides a good idea of the excellent defensive nature of the western flank of Fleming’s Down – yeah, just try storming that.

Sadly, though, it seems that prehistoric earthworks have no defence against South Walian pyromaniacs.

The cluster of monuments in the vicinity of Nash Point do not advertise – or, it would appear, endear themselves to the casual visitor. This is a pity since it would seem, to gauge by the capacity of the car park at least, that there are often quite a few of the latter, particularly so during the summer months. In the absence of an information board – always handy in such popular areas, I find – it is debatable whether more that the proverbial handful have any idea that here, just a few miles from the great urban sprawl of Bridgend, can be found much of what makes the Glamorgan coastline so intoxicating to these eyes. But hey, great place to walk the dog, though....

Some may argue that a day of low cloud, drizzle and high winds may not be the most salubrious of days to go walkabout in South Wales. Maybe. However head for the coast, stick on the waterproofs... and I would suggest there is a strong case for these being precisely the optimum conditions to truly ‘experience’ this coastline in all its wild abandon. As with Carl, there is no need to pay the £1.50 toll to traverse the private road heading south west from Macross to the car park today. Simple things, as they say.

So, suitably ‘tooled up’, I literally immerse myself in the ineluctable weather and head for the first monument, Cae’r Eglwys, a little way up the road towards the lighthouse at SS91666825, that is to the right. I guess I need to point out that the ‘earthwork’, as marked on the 1:25k OS map, is not a certain long cairn. However Coflein appear pretty confident, and it does seem pretty difficult to explain otherwise. Unfortunately ignorance of its (assumed) function has not served Cae’r Eglwys well within this community, the grassy long mound being covered in dog excrement, coke cairns and assorted rubbish. In short, it is a disgrace, even for South Wales. A ghostly chiming of bells appears to emanate from the sea and, recalling the association with a ‘church’ on the site (hence the name, of course), I doubt my senses for a moment. No, it’s definitely church bells! Oo-eer... But more of this later.

I head north-west towards the defile cut by the Marcross Brook, the serried strata of the crags of Castell y Dryw truly a natural wonder worth the price of admission alone (assuming you have to pay one, that is), despite the litter-despoiled environs of the water course. Hey, you mean people actually lived up there? Nah, surely not. The obvious way up is.... er, straight ‘up’ the eroded, steep left flank. However Carl’s bridge is already long gone and the water difficult to cross, the far bank treacherous in these conditions. In retrospect I’d therefore recommend heading right up the valley and ascending the far (right hand) flank of the site. Whichever way you do it, make sure you do, since this apparently minor, obscure enclosure occupying the summit of the ridge is defended by four – I concur with Carl, count ‘em – very powerful cross ramparts to the north. I’m utterly unprepared for this, I have to confess. There’s also a single bank – at least partially – defending the eastern flank. Jeez. Where have you been all my life, Nash Point? Oh, here.

But mankind’s puny defensive efforts pale into insignificance when I’m confronted with the glorious, lethal – bloody awe inspiring – mess Nature’s made of the western and southern flanks of this former fortress, crumbling cliff lines falling sheer to rocky pavements pounded by crashing breakers. Ha! The vertigo kicks in and I may as well be upon Crib Coch or The Cuillin... one false step in these conditions will mean death. Suffice to say this is not a place for children, then. As I head toward the southern apex of Castell y Dryw, the linear enclosure not very wide at all, it has to be said (although possibly much reduced through erosion to the east?), I again hear the ethereal peel of bells coming from the Bristol Channel. Contrary to some opinion, though, it seems I’m not mad after all. Yeah, the aforementioned rock pavements hold the key to this mystery, a bell clanging away eerily upon an offshore bhoy (hopefully) warning any nearby ships to take immediate, violent evasive action. What a swizz! Needless to say said bhoy was red, not green and white....

Moving north beyond the impressive defences and crossing a stone stile, I follow the cliff-line approx north-north-west and, upon passing through a second drystone wall, follow the field edge inland. Well, I couldn’t exactly head in the other direction, could I? A farm track is encountered running at a tangent with two reasonably preserved round barrows lying beside it to the left. OK, perhaps ‘reasonably’ is overdoing it a bit generally, but not in this part of the world. To the right of the field wall the OS map shows another, larger ‘tumulus’. Unfortunately this is the monument Carl rightly describes as being more or less no more.... an almost imperceptible rise in a soggy field. However at this moment a bank of sea mist sweeps in to engulf all in clammy vapour, thus rendering the landscape as ethereal and thought-provoking as many other more extreme sites I’ve visited.

Nash Point. Litter strewn, uncared for? Yes. But mind blowing in the right conditions? You’d better believe it. Neolithic (probably), Bronze Age and Iron Age. Take your pick....

Visited 04/08/2011

Although this round barrow was probably a burial site associated with Ogbury Hillfort, which lies directly over the other side of the River Avon, the current trees have obstructed the view from one to the other.

I travelled up to the barrow from the bottom of Ogbury, past the church and the village pub. Just past this on the right is a bridleway which leads to the foot bridges across the river by great Durnford mill. Once over these narrow foot bridges, I followed what might well be an ancient track linking the two sites. This track had been recently ‘stimmed’ which made it appear like a round green tunnel. It was full of wildlife and I remember walking past some lovely walnut trees with fragrant leaves. Climbing to the top of the hill, the track opens out onto the Woodford road and the NCR 45. Directly over the road is a footpath which overlooks the earthworks of the deserted mediaeval village of Lake. Lake House Barrow is easy to reach from the start of this footpath although at the height of summer it is completely hidden by a high hedge which runs alongside the road.

Lake House itself is a fine Elizabethan structure and can clearly be viewed from the pasture beside the Barrow. This house was once home to the Rev. E. Duke who carried out a lot of early investigations into the ancient remains of the area. The current owner is an ex-police man by the name of Sumner. I think there was a birthday party on the day of my visit as a lot of limo’s with blacked out windows came past me and into the grounds of the house. Security was present at the gates of the drive too.

Visited Hiroshima Day 2011

This not one of those sites that you might happen upon during a Sunday afternoon drive in the country.
True it does lie by the side of a public highway, but the only traffic I saw on my visit was an armoured convoy of Mastiffs and Buffalos practicing their driving skills before carrying out the real thing in Afghanistan. The only guys I spoke to were on the other side of a 12ft high fence topped with razor wire and carrying loaded Sa80’s. They were jovial enough once they realised I was one of those wired archo types who was just checking out the long barrow. One of them got quite excited when I told him there was no record of it ever being opened and it probably still contained the bodies of a Neolithic family from the time before Stonehenge.

The long barrow is a classic Neolithic one, from the early part of the period, being over 180ft long with clear evidence of the side ditches used to create it. It stands on the highest point of Knighton Down, orientated East/West, over looking the vast plain and its training area. To the left lies the Neolithic camp of Robin Hoods Ball with three more Neolithic long barrows, and beyond that, the Bustard Inn. As mentioned above, there is no record of this barrow being opened, although Dr. John Thurnam had been active in the area during his numerous excavations in 1863. The barrow has suffered some damage in more recent times, both from the O.S. who placed a concrete trig point right on top of the barrows’ highest point, and the army who had driven a tracked vehicle up it’s spine in order to reach the highest point in the area. The far end of the barrow also shows signs of being trenched by the army in the 1960’s. Thankfully this kind of damage is now a thing of the past and a series of posts and signs surround the barrow and its side ditches, although the O.S. trig point remains.

If you decide to visit, I recommend you park parallel to the barrow as the road/track next to it is a busy convoy route. Expect to be challenged by armed security too as the barrow lies right next to the Royal Aircraft Establishment and there are highly secure areas only a few feet away. Access is via the Packway, either by the sports ground, just past Durrington Walls and up past the Stonehenge race course or opposite Durrington Down Plantation and the Fargo ammunition area. Consult the O.S. map for the Stonehenge area before you travel.

Went past this long barrow today while walking along the Gloucester Way from the village of Coberley. The most notable thing about this barrow is its position – perched on the side of a hill overlooking a beautiful valley known as Coldwell Bottom. The barrow is fairly ruinous with the appearance of being split in two. Many people’s feet have formed a footpath through the centre of the barrow. We climbed over a gate to take a closer look and from the far side of the barrow dips made by excavations can be more clearly seen.

It may be worth mentioning for those who like springs that in the nearby village of Coberley near the village green is a bubbling spring flowing fast and clear.

The smaller of the two wedge tombs, This one lies 20 metres North of the second. Situated in a large area of blanket bog, close to the head(s) of the Canrooska Rver. Both are just under the 300m asl mark.
There are fine views across Bantry Bay.

Situated 20 metres South of the Barraboy North Wedge Tomb. This one is more substantial and has an interesting notch cut into the internal slab.
Both tombs are in a flat area of blanket bog, beneath Barraboy Mountain and looking out over Bantry Bay.
It’s a bit of a trek to get there, but well worth the effort. I can’t believe that I missed the standing stone 200 metres away to the NW.

Cairn at the summit of Barraboy Mountain, half in Kerry half in Cork !
A modern cairn now sits in the centre of the old circular cairn, which is roughly 3.8 diameter.

Following Mr Hamheads directions I visited the Nine Stones of Altarnun yesterday. Although I only live about 3 miles away as the crow flies I’d never seen them before, always finding something else to see or do at the time. What a mistake that was for it is one of the most charming and charismatic circles I have ever seen. Set in a wild Cornish windswept moorland landscape you can be forgiven for believing you are the only person alive when stood amongst them.
Mr H’s directions are completely accurate from North Hill but I will direct you initially from the A30 between Launceston and Bodmin where I guess most ‘outsiders’ will be approaching from if choosing to take his preferred route.
You leave the A30 on your left via the B3257 alongside the Bodmin Road Service Station near Plusha signposted Callington and Plymouth if approaching from the east. After about 3 miles you come to Congdon Shop crossroads. Turn right here onto the B2354 signposted Liskeard. About half a mile on the right is a lane signposted Trebartha/Bastreet. Take this and continue (past my house) until reaching a crossroad a further mile on. Cross straight over (gatehouse to Highpark Lodge on the left far corner) where two signs tell you the road will come to a dead-end. Just continue and you’ll come to signs directing you to Bastreet. You will pass a sawmill on the left then up the rising ground until you cross over the cattle grid and you are nearly there. After a couple of hundred yards you’ll see North Bowda farm on your left and shortly afterwards on your right the Stone Cross as described by Mr H midway up the rising ground. Park up here on the sides of the moorland road although it can be somewhat boggy in the Winter months.
And so I began my walk. My aim had been to only actually ascend Ridge Hill as the weather when I left home was very wet and windy so I thought I may make the circle on a better day. I still had my cameras but left the tripod behind as I didn’t expect to be using it. I reached the stone cross, took a couple of photos and moved on up to the top of Ridge Hill. I don’t know the history of the cross and wondered if it marked the position of a grave. As you get higher up the hill, the granite stones lying around increase until you realise you are in a world of stone circles/dolmens/cairns paradise for the builders of such things. No mystery here as to where the building materials originated from. On reaching the top I took a right for 100 yards and visited the cairn (marked as a tumulus on the OS map) on the eastern side of the hill. A wonderful thing to see 22.7m in diameter but sadly much abused with granite blocks strewn all around the site where removed. Not being a person that approves of standing on stones used to build monuments with such as this, but on this occasion one can’t really avoid it because you can’t tell them apart from other such stones lying around. Partial excavation of the cairn in the nineteenth century revealed a central slab over a cremation burial, surrounded by concentric rings of slabs in the cairn’s mound. At the present time it appears to have been utilised (for sheep possibly) with a central standing stone and stonework built off it. I wonder if the central stone is original.
Looking northwesterly you have East Moor laid out beneath you with Fox Tor in the distance. It was at this point that I was about to return to my car but suddenly the dark threatening clouds parted and a huge shaft of light lit up the whole of the moor beneath me. And there it was…the Nine Stones lit up like floodlights on a stage! That was it, I just had to go the whole mile and complete the journey while the weather was relenting even though I was only wearing a semi-waterproof jacket. On approaching the stones as you descend the gradual slope from the cairn you become aware that the entire flat area around the circle has been cleared for some distance around it and sits there in the most wonderful of settings. Remote to the eye, atmospheric, lonely, almost forgotten were my first thoughts, but somehow welcoming on arrival. My Border Collie Chief who is my constant companion on walks is very receptive to ancient sites and often shows a ‘mistrust’ to some but not here. We never saw another person or animal and it was so healing to the soul to just take it all in and reminds you why we do what we do. The stones on this occasion were individually and collectively set in water and probably are most of the year as the area can be quite boggy in parts. Stones reflecting in surrounding water always adds to the magic for me although on this occasion the surface of the water was very disturbed by the wind thus knocking out the reflection effect. I stood in the centre and phoned my cousin in Jersey on my mobile to tell her where I was and she said…’Blimey that site must give off good vibes as you sound like you are stood next to me’!
I stood there looking around and wondered what on earth our ancestors saw out here to encourage them to build in such a desolate but on the other hand beautiful looking place. So bleak, lonely and windswept but obviously of great importance in its time. I shot a video but the wind was so ferocious that it is spoilt. Fine if you turn the sound down but as I tend to speak for England on my vids it spoils it somewhat!
Heading back I took the same route directly to the cairn on Ridge Hill as I had taken on the way down and midway up the northern slope I discovered an unmarked standing stone broken off about 18” above ground level. It was virtually on a dead straight line between the circle and the cairn which are about ¾ mile apart. Leading up toward this broken stone were the signs of a slightly raised revetted stone curb earthwork revealing itself out of the turf. This was not shown on the map either yet continued for about 80 yards as far as I could determine.
On reaching my car, guess what? Yep, down came the rain so I reflected on how lucky I had been as I’d not taken full waterproofs with me as I wasn’t expecting to attempt the whole walk.
A moderately easy walk with just the first stretch beyond the stone cross offering any sort of challenge due to its length rather than its steepness. Visit the Nine Stones if you possibly can, you won’t regret it I promise you.

Nothing much to add to directions on getting to this site, follow the post by formicaant below but make sure to take the right hand path after parking up as there are two to choose from. If you take the left hand path you will make it there eventually but only after walking through some of the army base.

Both paths seem to be predominantly used though by dog walkers and not solders, on a Sunday at least. Follow the narrow right hand path, which is quite overgrown and enclosed until it opens out at the sign warning you are now entering MOD land. The path does continue on though and you don’t have to actually go through any security here, I guess it’s just luck whether you run into any patrol or not. The gunfire that could clearly be heard from the base was slightly off putting after just reading the sign but the odd friendly dog walker passing by calmed any nerves.

The long barrow is well enclosed behind barbed wire but looks very well preserved for it. It’s not possible to get very close but you can get a good perspective of it without taking the risk of jumping fences onto MOD land. This is a smaller structure by far than the Pimperne long barrow it’s closest neighbour.

04/03/2012 – I’ve lost count the amount of times I’ve driven past the turn off for this and said I must visit the stone circle up there one day. Well today we did. Reading the other fieldnotes I totally agree, this is a lovely little circle in a lovely setting. I can’t think of any similar round here. Well worth a visit. Stones seem to blend with the surrounding oak trees this time of year.

We head back to the kerbed cairn, passing a small clearance cairn, then over to the cairn on the saddle. Like its kerbed sibling, it’s been mutilated in the usual way, with a large scoop missing from its centre. It is another large cairn though, occupying a slightly more prominent position than the others in the group (and visible from the nearby trackway).

There is a final cairn shown on the OS map, at the southeastern end of the semicircular group. We head off for a look at this, but only find some apparent clearance cairns. One is slightly bigger than the rest, but we couldn’t hand on heart say that this was the one on the map.

At length, having crossed the worst of the wetness we head for the first of the group, the cairn with kerb. This turns out to be a real beauty. The top has been scooped out, inevitably. But around its base, to my surprise and elation, is a wonderfully intact kerb of stones. Some are practically hidden by gorse, but can be seen after pushing the spiky shoots aside. The stones appear to be graded, with the larger blocks (and they are large) on the southwestern side, the smallest on the northeast. Postie comments that you don’t expect to find Clava cairns in North Wales, and indeed it is very reminiscent of such structures. Alternatively, with internal mound removed the stones would be sufficiently large and widely spaced to make for a very convincing freestanding stone circle.

The OS map shows another cairn in the group lying “in” the wall to the north of the kerbed effort, so we head off in search. But after a bit of walking up and down, along the wall, we have to admit defeat. There is however a lovely view northeast across the Afon Mawddach valley to the conical Rhobell Fawr and even further to the distant Arenigs. [A post-visit check of Coflein offers no additional help, the sum total of description is “round cairn”.]

A single cairn lies to the southwest of the rest, separated from them by both a stream and a trackway running east-west between two tumbled stone walls. Tracing the field shapes on the OS map tells us where this cairn should be, but we can’t see it (or at least we can’t recognise it). There is no defined path down from the ridge, so we head straight down through the scrubby vegetation to where the cairn should be, next to a small triangular field.

And so it proves to be. The cairn is actually very large, at least its footprint is. But it is covered in grass and heather, seemingly set on blending into the landscape. It could be a ring cairn, as little remains beyond the circular bank of rubble that defines its outer edges. Perched on a little knoll, next to a clear-running stream, it positioning reminds me of the cairn across the stream from Maen Llia in the Brecon Beacons, far, far away to the south.

The ground climbs immediately, a mass of broken down walls and scrubby grass. A steep slope, liberally scattered with moss-covered blocks of scree, bars the approach to the fort from this side. This is a very organic feeling place. The whole site is surrounded by a ring of scree, which encircles the top of the hill on its southern side, but lies at the foot of the slopes on the steeper northern side. How much is natural and how much is the product of human endeavour is unclear, the distinction perhaps so blurred as to be unimportant.

We head on up to the top of the fort. Within the well defined rubble bank is a small grassy plateau, perfectly defensible but less attractive as a habitation. What it does boast, however, is a superb mountain panorama. The northern face of the Cadair Idris range is presented at is most intimidating to the south. To the west the darkly jagged ridge of another hillfort, Pared-y-Cefn-hir draws the eye. North the ground drops abruptly, giving way to the wilderness of outcrops and bogs that would be our next destination.

We wander about the interior, watching as the first signs of mist and rain appear on the summit of Cadair, the breath of the Brenin Llwyd coming down to keep his mysteries, well, mysterious. At the south-east corner there is an apparent entrance, now choked with rubble leaving the encircling ring unbroken. We head out through here, down towards the small stream that runs below the northern slopes of the fort’s outcrop. From this aspect the fort is at its most impressive, a near-vertical jumble of shattered stone jutting upwards from the little valley.

There was just enough room to pull over at the side of the road, walk back down the road to the gate enter the field and walk over to the cairns.
Only one is immediately obvious, but when you know which one your at you know where the other one is, if that makes sense.
The western one is the better of the two, a big round cairn with just loads of cairn material being taken for nearby walls, shocking isn’t it.
The eastern cairn was no smaller than it’s neighbours, but much more has been taken from it, on it’s eastern edge it neatly and seemlessly merges with the ground, only at its northern edge is there even a curving bank of stones.
I had wanted to get over to Cerrig y Cledd for the last site of the day, but we inevitably tarry too long at places, and consequently the plan is open to changes, these cairns were that change, and a welcome one too, after all the top sites of the day, and in the last golden light of a weather changeable day, it was better than most things.

We parked in the big free car park, walked a little down the road to take in the view across the lake to the mini mountain from a tumble of boulders, amongst them was a simple memorial to a dad, to a 54 year old man who loved this view, and who can blame him, I love it too, but it was all a bit more poignant as thesweetcheat was next to me and we were both born in the same month as our fallen comrade, it would be a few minutes before our immediate reality took back hold of me.

Though this big sharp rock looks intimidating to climb from the car park it is less so on the way up, no scrambling, no slipping, hands were deeply in pockets, except when holding camera to eye.
All the way up to the top there was no sign of fortifications, it is only the very top that has anything that one can pinpoint as being fortish. The high summit is a narrow plateau punctuated by rock outcropping, the highest of which is like a throne looking out to all points but most definately regarding the mountain most highly. Heading east off the high flat ground we are funneled through a narrow area between two rocky walls, through here I imagined a throng of iron age people, thronging in places and talking excitedly, only for a second or two then we were onto another long wide top shelf and in front of us was definate iron age fortifications. Two wide and high spread of stones blocked off egress along the mountain ridge, funneling people through the narrow entrance in the middle. We didn’t expect this, and it made me at least childishly excited, just like finding kerb stones on a cairn earlier on, it’s silly the things that can excite me.

Through the entrance and along the ridge to it’s eastern summits we were able to look back at the fort on its mountain top, through the entrance, to the narrow corridor through walls of rock and up to the throne stones outcrop, whilst also taking in the view of high moutains and down to the sea, I turn around and there is a rainbow only half is lit the invisble half sinks silently into Llyn Pen Moelyn. This is too much, it doesnt get much better than this. We blaze our own trail down, straight to another cairn on the map, but its gorse covered, less than a meter high and only sparse cairn material can be detected. we leave it and head back to the car whilst looking right for hut circles but the map is quite unclear about their exact whereabouts and we pass them by unnoticed, Back down at road side my camera battery goes, phew that was lucky.

I didn’t see this cairn on my first visit, but as it’s part of the collective round these parts we put that right.
As the name suggests it’s southwest of the main group, across the hard going sea of grass that reminds one of Rohan from the lord of the rings.
We came at it from the hill fort of Craig y Castell to the south, even from above it was still hard for me to spot it, but more obvious at ground level.
It is not a stoney spread like the other two, but a grassed over cairn of a good size, with the odd bit of cairn material poking through. Cader idris itself is not visible from it but the cairns of Tyrrau Mawr are and down the valley to Pared y Cefn Hir.

We parked in the Cader Idris pay and display, two quid for four hours, reasonable.
From the car park head north west up the track, the hill fort occupies the hill right in front of you. Keep going till you reach a farm with a public right of way through it, the farmer can’t say a word, but his dogs will have plenty to say, like woof, bark and many growls with longing looks at the ankles and the irrisistable urge to herd us all over their faces. We stood our ground, spoke with a commanding voice and made it through unmolested.

Once past the farm you’ll have to detour off the path and head east straight up the hill, i’m not sure if we were trespassing or not but a couple of fences had to be stepped over. Then we’re at the foot of the fort, all around the northern part are what look like collapsed walls, tumbled down from on top or not we can’t tell, alas we’d forgotten to bring a professional so our amateurish musings will have to suffice. Scrambling through the rubble/scree we approach the highest part of the fort and set our faces to stunned, my but that is a great view.
The fort sits aloft on its giant outcrop, with stunning vistas to the peak of Cader Idris, to the mini mountains of Pared y Cefn Hir, and down towards Barmouth and the sea.

The tumbled wall stretches from west through south to east, the northern aspect is taken care of by a sheer breakneck drop. At the south east is what looks like the entrance with the walls unfortunately falling into the entrance.
This isn’t the best hill fort in North Wales, but it is probably in the best location in North Wales. And for some reason I like a fort with stone walls instead of just banks and ditches, stones being preferable to earth, strange but true.
We take in the fort from a distance from multiple angles and decide we are done here and move on to “The cairns on a woodland saddle”, I like it.

Visited 31st December 2011

Of all my many previous visits to Anglesey I’d never been here before. Despite being only a stones throw from Barclodiad-y-Gawres I’d always found the maze of lanes around Llanfaelog confusing, or maybe I’d been subconsciously avoiding seeing the appalling restoration of the dolmen, now with an OS map in hand there were no excuses so we set off to view the site.

Initial impressions were hopeful, as we parked up in the tiny layby outside Ty Newydd’s field, the shape of the huge capsone hove into view and I thought well that doesn’t look too bad. Indeed from one angle it doesn’t, but as you approach the true horror of the restoration becomes apparent.

Oh dear.

Looking more like a dodgy garage extension than a serious attempt at archaeological restoration the brick pillar ‘supports’ are so inappropriate as to totally ruin the form of the monument, and I desperately try to angle my photos to hide the ugly brickwork.

Well done to the 19th century gaping rustic who lit a bonfire on the capstone cracking it and necessitating this later awful reconstruction. I’m generally in favour of restoring megalithic sites but to be honest this one would have looked better if it had been left in a tumbledown ‘dolmen on a blasted heath’ type state rather than having been used as bricklaying practice for the Ministry of Works. Surely it would now be possible to restore the monument in a more sympathetic way?

If you can overlook the bricks the dolmen is of a good size, the capstone being impressively huge. I was initially perplexed by the small concrete posts which surrounded the structure, before figuring out that they indicated the circumference of the mound which would have once covered the dolmen (at least I think that’s what they’re for, please someone correct me if I’m wrong!) At least from one angle it looks great, like a perfect stone table, perhaps I can dream that one day someone will come along and restore it properly!

A small 5 stone circle, situated just up a cul de sac lane just south of the school in Derrynacaheragh. There’s just about enough room to park in the gateway.
All five stones are present, but one of the portal stones is leaning sharply inwards. Alligned NE-SW, the axial stone is one of the smallest that I have seen. The internal diameter is just 3 metres.