Latest Fieldnotes

I re-visited the stone today, almost eight years since the last time I saw it in this location. The surroundings are now much more overgrown. It’s in a fairly sad state really, lost at the bottom of a garden. There is now a bench in front of it, so maybe some people do get to enjoy sitting in front of it a letting their minds go!
From the one resident I spoke to today though, I don’t think people are that aware of it’s history. It’s a rock feature in an overgrown border with some old crisp packets and cat shit for company.

After a fair soaking at Gwern Gof Isaf hut circle near tryfan, I was not quite reluctant to get back out of the warm car, but the idea of waiting for a dryer day had occurred to me that’s for sure. But that’s not the postal way, I opted for walking boots (that are still waterproof) instead of wellies, picked up the shears and strode of into the misty wilderness.
I parked by the cattle grid this time and followed the wall down to the river which had more water in it than the first time I came, I was almost certainly going to slip off a rock and get wet., well, wetter than normal, but I made it across, grumbling but no wetter than when I started. From the other side of the river it’s just a case of finding the big rock and the four poster is about 50yards away. River crossing aside no problem.

You may have noted that I was carrying shears with me, my first visit had been somewhat frustrated by two inappropriately placed gorse bushes, they are right on the cairn itself and half obscure two of the four stones.
The smaller of the two bushes had all but died and the entire plant was removed easily in less than half an hour. I hasten to add that absolutely no damage occurred to the structure of the cairn or to the stone. The ground isn’t too pretty where the bush was , but I’m sure that a good summer will green right over the brown patch.
It’s not like anyone but me ever goes there, If you feel like complaining feel free, (I may have a go at the other gorse bush if no-one does) but I feel the site is better off for having me as a friend, and now the only four poster in North Wales has 50 % less gorse coverage and will soon look the better for it.

I parked in the small car park near Gwern Gof Isaf campsite, it was raining, but as it wasn’t too far from the road I was unperturbed by the crappy weather. Wellied feet, waterproof trousers, and old trusty coat, just follow the rocky ridge up, how hard can it be ?
Half way to the hut circle I was in such a good mood I stopped on a prominent rock to show the world my genius at air guitar. The world didn’t seem to care too much and I didn’t blame it, i’m not very good ....musically, but ask me to find a little hut circle on a big mountain side and I can really shine at that. From the prominent rock that has to be stood upon, you have to walk through two low walls and pass a sheep shelter(?) and the hut circle will appear on your right up against a vertical sheet of rock.
First of all I paced round it giving it a wide berth, like a tiger waiting for the right moment to pounce, or a Top Gear enthusiast jealously surveying the newest Ferrari. Either way, half an hour passed before I even stood next to it let alone enter the little circle.
From most angles the hut seems to have a difficult to understand interior, the southern arc of the circle wall is wider than the rest, and inside the circle that is a little bit too square to be a real circle, is another circular setting of stones with a rectangular depression inside that. It seemed to be more cairn like at times, with the central depression being a cist rather than a hearth, but I guess they that know, know best.
The mist never really lifted much during my stay, Tryfan was half draped in misty goodness, across the valley Pen yr Helgi Du fleeted by for an instant. Today was never about getting to the top or having a great view, it’s just about being there, dry or wet, today my coat was really not cooperating in defeating the fine sideways rain, and it was wet. Back to the car, before my tolerance of cold and wet were all used up for the day.

Visited 2nd August 2011

Disa’s Ting is a rectangular setting of sixteen stones, which were erected on a small earthen bank delineating an area of thirty-six metres long by sixteen metres wide. Where elsewhere the stone setting could be described as a cromlech, in Scandinavia these types of monument are know as thing-vollr, a law centre or ‘field where an assembly meets’.

The sixteen stones range in height from 7’ tall, in the south-east of the rectangle, to around 1’ high, the largest stones standing along the southern quadrant closest to the sea. There does not appear to be any graduation in the height of the stones.

Excavations in 1920 discovered a cobblestone framework was laid down in order to form the foundation for the earthen bank, and amongst this material were found scattered burnt human bones. These were interpreted as being the remains of an Iron Age grave that would have dated from around 500 BCE to 400CE, later carbon dating has put this towards the earlier end of that scale. The embankment on which the stones stand has now denuded over time, but is still visible, and provides an opening to the enclosure from the west.

Although the archaeological evidence recovered points toward the Iron Age, and therefore long after the rest of European megalithic culture, the surrounding area is rich in earlier Bronze Age remains, including a barrow field (graberfeld) only a few hundred metres to the west, indicating that the site may have had an earlier date of construction and had been adapted for later use, as has been seen at other megalithic sites present in areas of Viking culture.

I’ve had an evening of paddling on the beach only feet away from Disa’s Ting, and even at 8.30pm it is still warm, so I waded into the Baltic at the nice little beach at Svarte, only three miles away from the house where we were staying. Then I walked barefoot to the stones as evening fell, sitting in the middle of the thing-vollr and just relaxing in the atmosphere.

Although so close to the edge of the village, with houses just a stones throw away, it doesn’t feel overlooked or unwelcome here. In fact the whole history of the site as a law centre makes it feel an integral and organic part of the village, rather than humanity encroaching on the wildness of the places where megalithic sites usually stand.

It’s also interesting that this is a very young site in megalithic terms, only 2,500 years old, although I get the feeling that the site was used by an earlier culture and adopted later by the Vikings as a powerful place to make pronouncements. As I sit in the middle of the stones, the spiky grass jabbing at my feet, I also ponder on who the enigmatic maiden Disa was. Was she a volva or seidr? It’s nice that the place is still associated with her name.

Now as the sun sets the light over the stones and the view out to sea is exquisite, before
I sat down I hugged one of the stones and was suffused with warmth, although this was a physical rather than spiritual effect, as a result of the days heat radiating from the stone, although it still feels lovely!

It’s magical to be here at sunset, with the light low over the stones, and the normally busy coast road now quiet. This was the first megalithic site we visited in Sweden, and it feels special, a good introduction to the wonders of Skane!

The ‘green desert’ of Mid Wales – that wild expanse of high moor stretching north of Llandovery to Pumlumon – has altered somewhat since our Bronze Age forebears erected their hill top cairns in veneration of their dead, the most obvious change, the creation of the massive reservoirs of Cwm Elan and Llyn Brianne.... although forestry is also much in evidence. This recent adaptation of the landscape to support an evolving way of life has not been unflattering to the eye, although, of course, there are other criteria to consider when evaluating the overall impact of the relatively recent actions of humankind. However, from a purely aesthetic viewpoint, my judgement is that these hills, although demanding, offer much to the prehistorically-inclined walker prepared to venture off the ‘beaten track’. The highest summits of Drygarn Fawr and Gorllwyn, both crowned by Bronze Age cairns and rising to the north-east of the attractive Irfon pass (north-west of the small hamlet of Abergwesyn) will probably top the list of TMA-ers making an initial sortie into the locality. However note that the ascent of both is problematic due to the more-or-less trackless terrain and subsequent extreme navigational issues prevalent in poor weather. Hence the considerably easier/safer route to the summit barrow of Pen-y-Gurnos could well be a fine, introductory alternative, particularly since it features excellent views of Cwm Doethie, arguably the jewel in the region’s crown.

Strong walkers, upon studying the map, may wish to start from the west, near the Youth Hostel of Ty’n-y-cornel, this presenting the option of exploring the enigmatic, prehistoric complex upon Bryn y Gorlan beforehand... not to mention a walk beside the Afon Doethie. However, poor weather having vetoed a proposed attempt upon Pumlumon today (10/9/11), I approach from the north. The isolated chapel of Soar y Mynydd is the key here, accessible by mountain road beyond the north-western ‘tentacle’ of Llyn Brianne. Ignore the obvious track ascending the hillside to the west (this will bring you back again if you take the circular option and visit Carn Saith-wraig) and instead head to the south-east upon another substantial track above the waters of the Camddwr. Keep your eyes peeled for a sluice gate upon the river and ascend the hillside to the right in the direction of Nant Llwyd farm, this bridleway continuing all the way to the escarpment edge overlooking the Afon Doethie... a wonderful viewpoint. The summit of Pen-y-Gurnos, surmounted by its monument, in turn supporting an OS trig point, can be attained without too much effort by traversing the hillside to the left at this point (to approx south).

The round barrow is by no means an overbearing monument, but nonetheless remains relatively substantial, with traces of kerb a welcome, surviving feature. Needless to say, however, it is the location which takes the proverbial biscuit, endowing the site with, oh, ooodles of vibe, fast moving weather fronts adding that extra authentic ‘Welshness’ to the experience. Forestry restricts views to the south, but this is of little consequence since the primary focus is – and I would assume always has been – the beautiful gorge carved by the Afon Doethie. Hell, I’d seriously doubt if the natural, abrasive action of flowing water has resulted in more sublime contours in a landscape anywhere else? There is nothing to do except plonk myself upon the ancient barrow and enjoy the silence which pervades this isolated corner of wildest Wales. Not sure if George Borrow ever came here. But if not, he should’ve. Bryn y Gorlan rises upon the north-western skyline.... but, needless to say, I still haven’t the foggiest what went on there. Pen-y-Gurnos is made of simpler ‘stuff’. If ever such nebulous material could ever be described as simple.

Two further examples of substantial – if ravaged – Bronze Age cairns lie beyond the ascent track to the approx north-west at Carn Saith-wraig, albeit obscured by high ground. This latter is fenced, although I was able to make my way without excessive problems to connect – following a sojourn at the cairns – with a byway leading east back to Soar y Mynydd (as mentioned earlier). Well worth the additional effort. Yeah, closing the circle is always worthwhile.....

Cheetham close is fairly easy to get to if you have the right footwear. Wellies are definitely recommended in winter as some of the mud is over a foot deep in places.

The place is a fantastic site once you get there after about 20 mins walk.

The site is quiet, serene and has a fantastic view southwards and to the east and west. It is easy to see why our ancestors chose this spot.

Unfortunately the stones are very small and some have collapsed but you can just about make the circle out. Definitely worth a visit.

What is interesting about the site is the earthworks and ditches/banks that surround the site on the hills. I have posted a pic above but its does not really do them justice. I cant work out what they must have been for:
1. Marking territory (seems a lot of effort to do this for this purpose)
2. Defend aggainst attack seems the obvious answer if you are to stand on the ditches when under attack

Charters Moss plantation has a path running through it but to stray off the beaten path is taking a risk (pic of the main path above added by myself).

The trees are very dense and without a good OS map or GPS it is easy to get lost in this eerie woodland area.

Not really worth a visit but its nice to know it is here. It is an eerie and quiet place. You will not meet anyone else in the wood.

Visited 28.12.11

My 800th Field Note!

A couple of months ago I had read that the Long Barrow had been re-opened to the public and since then I have been ‘chomping at the bit’ to go back.
Boy, am I glad I did. This is a fantastic site to visit.
Easy parking, easy access and very close to several other sites which are also well worth seeing

We passed the site earlier on in the day but there were so many people there I decided to call back later when we were more likely to have the place to ourselves. We returned as dusk fell and sure enough this time there was no one to be seen – hurrah!

Sophie was asleep so Karen stayed in the car whilst myself and Dafydd headed off across the field – Dafydd insisting on wearing my head light and taking the lead!
As we approached the first think I noticed since my last visit was that the fence which surrounded the tomb had been removed. Then, there waiting for us, was the entrance!

Dafydd quickly took command of proceedings and insisted on going in first (as he had the light!). We both crawled on our hands and knees and were soon inside. Dafydd was then able to stand up while I crouched down. It was black inside and we both looked around using the light as best we could. It was then that I spotted the two side chambers – something I wasn’t expecting – a real bonus.

We crept into the first chamber and it was then that I noticed something hanging from the ceiling. I couldn’t make out what it was and called Dafydd over. We shone the light on the object and then to my great surprise (and delight) found it to be a bat roosting! It was only about 4 inches long and through the wings I could make out the head and eyes. I wasn’t sure how Dafydd would react but typical of him he took it all in his stride. I didn’t want to disturb the little thing so we backed out and went into the second chamber. Here Dafydd spotted a large spider hanging down. He quickly decided that this was the ‘spider’s house’ and the other chamber being the ‘bat’s house’.

It was now starting to get dark and we headed back to the car. I excitedly told Karen about what we had seen and suggested she go and have a look herself. ‘How do I get in?’ asked Karen. ‘Easy’ said I, ‘Dafydd has the light and all you need to do is crawl inside on your hands and knees’. ‘If you think I am crawling on my hands and knees into a dark burial chamber…………………’ We headed home.

This is a cracking site to visit and well done to English Heritage for doing the work required in order that the Long Barrow can be accessed again. I must admit when visiting these types of site I am still amazed that there is unrestricted access to these important and ancient monuments. I guess we should just be grateful and enjoy it for as long as we can.

As Carl notes, the simplest manner to visit this overgrown, slumbering giant of an enclosure is via the caravan park immediately to the west. However – for me – the promontory / cliff forts which grace this Glamorgan coastline are far and away best approached from water’s edge. So, particularly following on from a visit to the unique Sully Island, that is what I must do this Boxing Day afternoon. Romantic fool, that I am.

The initial approach in the car is not especially salubrious..... via the perimeter road to the east of Cardiff International Airport, near Rhoose. However, upon reaching the tiny settlement of Porthceri, the visitor is suddenly transported back to an era where gentlemen emerged, ‘glistening’, from lakes and ladies had heaving bosoms laced up in their undergarments. Oh, and the peasants did as they were bloody well told, no doubt. Or something like that. Anyway, there is room to park near the church – no cucumber sandwiches on offer, though – from where a public footpath leads down the left hand of private drives to descend, steeply and with much mud, through woodland to a golf course beneath an impressive viaduct. Advance to the foreshore – dodging any bloody golf balls – and follow the coastline around to the right until a little before the point where the cliffs of the promontory tower above; here a path ascends the wooded, lower slopes to the interior of The Bulwarks, following the line of the south-eastern defences in the latter stages.

Upon arrival within the enclosure the immediate impression is that of ‘so what?, an interpretation not countermanded by several electrical pylon-wotsits standing in the north-eastern corner. Don’t be put off, though.... since the far treeline conceals some pretty substantial tri-vallate earthen banks. The most impressive of these are to the west, terminating at cliff-edge to the south and easily seen by following the footpath to the left towards the caravan park. The northern arc, although much more overgrown and thus less defined, is nonetheless still substantial. As is the eastern/south-eastern flank. Sadly, however, this last section has clearly been treated appallingly, not only having the aforementioned electrical pylons inserted – and being allowed to become completely overgrown – but also acting as a hang-out for local ‘yoofs’.... consequently much litter is to be seen, a general feeling of ‘who gives a damn?’ hanging in the air. Yeah, there is a definite aura of melancholia in evidence here as I force my way through the gorse (and other such prickly, thorny stuff) in the gathering, drizzly gloom. Nevertheless the earthworks, despite such ill treatment, remain as mute testament to this coastline’s rich ancient heritage. If only the locals could grasp what they have upon their cliff-top. If only. Speaking of ‘cliff tops’, that to the south obviously rendered any artificial defences there superfluous.

So, yeah, a visit to The Bulwarks will probably not need to be filed in the TMA ‘classic’ folder.... needless to say it’s not in mine. But an approach from the seashore adds a touch of preceding drama to a viewing of some pretty substantial defences of what was once a major Iron Age site. Now, of course, The Bulwarks is engaged in a new battle for its very survival. The enemy is formidable.... that of apathy and ignorance

Wandering down for a quick look whilst visiting the impressive Old Harlow round barrow on New Year’s Day....well, it’d be rude not to... I’m sad to relate there is as ‘unvibey’ a feeling upon this waste ground as you might find behind a block of flats on a council estate in London. To be honest, the clearly relatively recent ‘landscaping / contouring’ makes the traveller think ‘surely not?’ at the outset.

Unfortunately it appears that Essex HER agree, an opinion based upon some solid fieldwork, however. To quote SMR 7268:

‘Site de-scheduled October 2008 as no longer regarded as a cursus.Field survey and trial trenching was completed in order to evaluate the impact of unauthorised re-contouring groundworks upon it. This archaeological work was undertaken by the Essex County Council Field Archaeology Unit at the request of English Heritage. It consisted of a site walk-over inspection, collection of spot height data and the excavation of trenches across the plotted position of the cropmark and the area to its immediate west. The principal objectives of the work were to establish the presence of the cursus monument and to assess the extent of any damage which may have been caused to it.

The archaeological fieldwork identified the presence of prehistoric and Early Saxon remains,but no trace of the putative cursus. It also established that there had been relatively little deep and extensive truncation of archaeological remains across the majority of the scheduled area, and that the groundworks had largely comprised the removal and the stockpiling of topsoil. However, general compaction, disturbance and rutting caused by the movement of heavy plant were observed on the exposed surface that is likely to have had an adverse impact upon below-ground remains present. It is concluded that the cursus had never been present and that the linear ‘cropmark’ features evident on aerial photographs, from which it is was identified, are more likely to have been modern-day tracks, footpaths or other wear marks on the field surface.‘

So, in all probability not a cursus, then? Curses! However note the stated presence of ‘prehistoric’ remains..... so something WAS going on here, near the barrow, in ancient times. But what? As usual we clear up one mystery – albeit unsatisfactorily from a TMA point of view – and create another. Right on!

I headed up to the bride stones today. It is easy to find and is just off the A road to the north of the stones. I would not recommend heading to the stones without a good pair of boots or wellies as it is very muddy and there is no clear path to the stones so it is a short yet treacherous journey in poor conditions.

Once there, it is a special place. Quiet and serene with decent views all around. There is definitely something special about the stones and its quiet location which only makes one reflect on all that the stones must have seen in this lonely yet special place.

Visited 28.12.11

Last time I came here Dafydd was a baby sat in the car. Now the baby sitting in the car was Sophie. Who would have thought?

On this cold but bright winter’s afternoon there were plenty of walkers about. As I made my way up to the Hillfort a group of ramblers were coming the other way.
The cold wind was fairly biting.

This time I walked right around the Hillfort which took longer than I was expecting – about 45 minutes (sorry Karen!). The Hillfort is certainly a big one and the views are simply stunning.

I was thinking that this area would be great for a school trip to teach children a bit about their ancestors. The children could walk around the Hillfort (discussing how it would have originally looked etc) then stop off at Hetty Pegler’s Tump before having lunch / run around etc at the Coakley point viewpoint parking area and of course having a look at Nympsfield Long Barrow. What a great day out! They could then do projects on what they had seen / prehistoric life. Any school teachers reading this?!!

Visited 28.12.11

I wasn’t planning on re-visiting this site but as Nympsfield Long Barrow was crawling with people I decided to take a walk through the woods to visit the Barrow.

There is not much to add from my previous visit other than the ruined wall you walk over has now pretty much totally fallen down. The evident ‘path’ through the trees shows that this lesser well known site does get its fair amount of visitors.

If the trees were not here there would be spectacular views to be had across the Severn Valley. Whoever was buried here must have been someone of importance. Pity he/she wasn’t left alone.

While I was mooching about near the Barrow a lady looking slightly distressed was looking for her Labrador puppy. I hope she found it.

Visited 28.12.11

By the time I came back from visiting the nearby Soldier’s Grave Barrow most of the people had gone although two young boys were playing in the piles of leaves which had collected in the chambers. They were clearly oblivious to what it was they were playing in.
Their fathers were deep in conversation about something – I doubt it was the Long Barrow!!

I didn’t stay too long.

Visited 28.12.11

Not a lot to report. All that remains of this much ploughed out Long Barrow is a long, low, grass covered mound – I would say about 50 metres long and 0.5 metres high.

The hedgerow surrounding the field consisted largely of thorn bushes and a ‘keep out’ sign does little to encourage a visit.
However, I managed to find a gap in a wall……

Visited 28.12.12

Directions: Take the B4058 north out of Wotton-Under-Edge and where it joins the A4135 there is a minor road to the south. (You can also reach The Clump Long Barrow from this direction).
The Long Barrow is easily visible in the field to the east.

Parking is possible in a passing place and Karen patiently sat in the car while I peered over the hedge looking for a way into the field. Obviously there must be an entry somewhere but I couldn’t spot it. There was no way through the hedge. I therefore had to settle for a view from afar.

The Long Barrow looks a bit like the back of a camel – two humps – where it has been dug into in the past. From a distance it looks to be about 2 metres high and 50 metres across.

Visited 28.12.11

Taking the minor road east out of Wotton-Under-Edge you soon come to this Long Barrow (near the point where the road forks) There is room to park on the verge at this point.

I walked along the rough track to the north of the Long Barrow and from here it was a case of carefully hopping over the electric fence and a short but muddy walk.

The Long Barrow is about 25 metres across and 2 metres high – covered with brambles which prevented further investigation. A fairly ruined dry stone wall surrounds the Long Barrow.
Not much else to add other than that there are pretty good views.

Cairn Mude has escaped my attentions in past due to the weather, running out of time or like yesterday (3/4/2012) gale force winds, blizzards and flying buckets. This was the fourth attempt and today it was much calmer and with supplies from the Alford baker I headed east from Lumphanan on the A980 taking the first minor road south to Kincardine O’Neil. I pulled in after Colliestown.

Head along a track, north west for about a 1/2 mile then head into the woods, south, for a further mile (approx) until a crossroads in tree breaks. Head east and the much ruined cairn is found in a clearence. Still it stands at 13 meters wide and a couple of meters high. Sadly wide trenches have been cut through it, even more sadly I’d left both my phone and camera in the car instead of in the rucksack. So I’ll have to go back, no problem as I now know a shorter route.

During my first attempt the farmer at Newton, home to ring cairns, told me that dead soldiers from Macbeth’s army were burned on the cairn. On that occasion I was beaten back by thick vegetation and ended up getting lost.

This time I decided to climb to the top of Stot Hill and managed to get lost on the way back down. Somehow I almost ended up in Lumphanan, but found my way back via the public stream, more commonly known as a footpath.

Visited 4/1/2012.

Clashholm is situated in a glen on the eastern side of the B9119, from the A980 head east at Crossroads (a pub) and stop at Cloak Wood. Walking past this wood reminded me of a tip whisky bottles, old bikes and some gas cylinders littered the wood. Just beyond the wood, jump the fence and head towards the bottom of the glen. The two hut circles are enclosed by a wall (rather ruined) and could easily be spotted amongst the snow. It’s shame the wall is in such a condition as beasts will probably trample all over this monument. Anyway for the moment they are still here.

Visited 4/1/2012.

Boxing Day morning under a leaden, South Walian sky, with cloud base low enough to prevent fleeing to the hills, is not the most inspiring of times, it has to be said. Only one thing for it, then.... to paraphrase the lovely Cerys Matthews... ‘Things are strange, I’m starting to worry. This could be a case of going to Sully’. Well, my mum’s always said I’m a bit like Mulder from the X-Files. Not sure if that’s a compliment or not, to be honest.

Sully Island is another of those locations which may well take those unfamiliar with the delights of The Glamorgan coastline by surprise, set as it is between the capital city (to the north) and Barry Island (think Gavin and Stacy, if you must) to the west. With due respect to the locals, I’m sure they’d agree scenic beauty wouldn’t be the first topic of conversation when mentioning the locality... nevertheless it is here. There is also danger for the unwary in the form of one of the highest tidal ranges in Britain (my thanks to the Mam C’s husband – who works nearby – for that nugget of information, duly exposing my general ignorance of local marine matters). To be fair, the prominent signs round about make this crystal clear. People have drowned crossing to Sully Island. Simple as that.

Initially there doesn’t seem any chance of me getting more than a distant view of the ‘promontory’ fort occupying the left hand (eastern) portion of the island, as viewed from the quayside. Yeah, the tide is right in, the island, well.... an island. However the sun pokes from behind the cloud mantle, encouraging me to take a few shots from the beach. Then, wandering down the breakwater – as you do – I have the crazy (and no doubt suicidally dangerous) idea that it might be possible to wade. However, clearly, it would be impossible to venture further without coffee, so a return to the car is required. Several minutes later the decision is academic, a broad causeway of rock now linking island to shore. Jeez. That is fast.

Passing Carl’s skeletal boat, I head eastwards along the island, the far (southern) flank of which is being inexorably smashed to oblivion by the Bristol Channel.... fort ‘n all. Guess the sea wants Sully Island back, then. Coflein reckons there are three cross-ramparts isolating the far eastern section of the island from the hinterland, although I can only positively identify two. These are quite substantial, relatively speaking, although considerably overgrown with brambles – and, sadly, featuring quite a bit of rubbish. The highest point of the enclosure is crowned by what I take to possibly be the remains of a Bronze Age round barrow. Surprisingly, Coflein (very) tentatively agrees. If we are correct, it is a suitable location for VIP burial, with the natural, craggy defences of the fort falling way sharply to the water, the sea views expansive towards Flat Holm etc. Looking to the south along the disintegrating, southern flank the view is more industrial, with Barry’s factory chimneys lying beyond the sound. Yeah, times have changed since people actually occupied this spot. But it still remains an extraordinary place to eat Boxing Day lunch. And that’s a fact. No need to get Mulder and Scully onto Sully to solve that one.

Just make sure you keep one eye permanently upon that crazy tide!

It’s truly sad when unsavoury, extraneous events overshadow a visit to a site. But, hey, these things happen within a flawed society such as ours, do they not? Tell me about it. Quite how we can (rightly) demonise moronic hooligans for rampaging in our city centres when the so called ‘higher echelons’ (ha!) act like mindless, sub-humans... having a jolly good time hunting a creature to its death for FUN ... is beyond me. It really is. Evil is as evil does, Forrest. It therefore makes my skin crawl to have to share the environs of Coedcae Gaer with such fox hunting degenerates this Christmas Eve afternoon.

There are two saving graces, however. Firstly, the fox doubles back away from the pursuing creatures, paradoxically sat astride beautiful mounts, and casts me a glance as he/she tries to save itself, proceeding to lead them a merry dance in the process. Yeah, a flawed, instinctive executioner when loose in the chicken coop – I doubt if many would blame a farmer blasting the fox with his shotgun on sight – but civilised human beings are supposed to know better than to engage in sheer, retributive blood lust, are we not? QED! I give you the fox hunter! And you can keep ‘em the hell away from me upon a public common. Can we stop the cavalry this Christmas? Seems not, my friends. Seems not.

With apologies for the above.... the second saving grace is the unexpected quality of the hillfort of Coedcae Gaer. A little to the north-east of the great urban sprawl that is Bridgend, it’s taken me years to find this, so my thanks to the two TMA’ers to proceed me here. The setting is fine, a typical South Walian coastal juxtaposition of industry and sweeping, green hillside, the latter prevalent to the north where the Nant Ciwc has carved the deep valley of Cwm Rhydymilwyr. Phalanxes of wind turbines dominate the summit of Mynydd Maendy to the north-east, the ridge, according to the map, also boasting a ‘tumulus’. Another, smaller ‘enclosure’ sits above Hoel-y-Cyw some way to the west. Far to the south, the Glamorgan coastline is crowned by a myriad promontory ‘cliff forts’. Clearly there was a lot going on in ancient times...

So much for the location. The earthworks are pretty good, too. No, they’re better than that, the univallate defences rising to an impressive 3m in places, a counterscarp duly emphasising the ditch. Unfortunately a double barbed-wire fence impedes access, and, seeing as the farmer is on site (at least I think it’s the farmer, maybe not), I’m forced to have a conversation. Needless to say he’s not aware this is a ‘hillfort’. But then perhaps that is not so surprising....

Visited 27.12.11

Despite doing a degree in History, my niece, Danielle, had never visited a prehistoric site before – I was about to put that right!

An obvious, nice and easy, post Christmas site to choose was the famous Tinkinswood burial chamber.

I was keen to re-visit this site following the excavation work carried out in October.

I brought along a spare pair of wellies which was just as well as the area near the kissing gate was not much more that a quagmire. Things improved as we approached the Long Barrow although, as ever, the inside was under water.

One thing I did notice (which I don’t remember from previous visits) was the number of ribbons tied to a nearby tree. ‘Offering’s no doubt.

In my non-expert sort of way I explained to Danielle all about Long Barrows, how they were constructed, when built, what would have been placed inside and why it looks the way it does now etc. She was most impressed – not by me no doubt but the site itself! ‘That’s amazing’ was a phrase she often repeated!

The bushes, brambles etc had all been cut back from around the tomb and viewing the site was even easier than before.

On one side of the Long Barrow appears to be an excavated side chamber but I can find no reference to this is the site report. Perhaps it is not a side chamber but something else? It certainly looks like a side chamber!

On my last visit I mentioned the large stones I had spotted in the trees/bushes near the burial chamber. I am pleased to see that this area has now been investigated with the following conclusion (it is referred to as the ‘quarry site’):
‘The test pits in the possible quarry have produced no evidence at all that slabs were cut from the outcrop to make the capstone for Tinkinswood chambered cairn.‘

The pile of stones near the ‘quarry site’ which does indeed look like a fallen cromlech has been proven to be just field clearance. The team report ‘The pile of stones and large slabs sit on top of a layer of soil that lies directly over a bedrock outcrop. We found a piece of metal that looks like it originated from a tractor below one of the larger stones. We now think that the stones were cleared from the local field, by machine, sometime in the 19th C’.

The team exploring the site should be congratulated for not only clearing scrub from around Tinkinswood and confirming the position regarding the other possible sites but for also enabling much easier access to the ‘quarry site’ and ‘fallen cromlech’. The bushes/trees have been removed, a new wooden stile built and a fence surrounding the site constructed. All in all a top job which allows the visitor to appreciate this site even more.

Visited 27.12.11

Like Tinkinswood, I was keen to re-visit this site following the excavation work carried out in October.

Accompanied by my Niece, Danielle, we parked up and squelched up towards the burial chamber.
There was clear evidence of the trench put right across the site (the turf having been put back on).

The findings of the dig concluded:
‘The cairn was originally 30 metres in length and about 12 metres wide, constructed from locally collected limestone slabs and boulders. The cairn material was carefully laid on the ground with the edges of the monument defined by a low revetment. It is clear that this was once a substantial structure. The façade at the front of the chamber would have extended either side and would have formed a striking feature similar to that at Tinkinswood‘

Fragments of Neolithic pottery, a fragment of a bone needle, struck flint and human bone and teeth were found. The flint appears to be early Neolithic in date. Pre-monument ground surface charcoal was also found which will be able to accurately date its construction.

Climbed up from the west side parking at Knockenbog. From there I used the path then climbed the fence and went straight up. For 3/4s of the way it was fairly long tough heather and jabby things but after jumping a ditch the heather becomes fairly short making it much easier to reach the top. At the bottom it was calm. At the top a major gale blew with occasional hail for good company. Still the trig provided cover for a wee sit down and a chance to admire the scenery before clouds and darkness moved in.

The small circle, same as Theolonius, wasn’t there the last time I was here but it looks very pretty with it’s little outlier. A couple of cairns are at the top, one a climbers cairn and the other a memorial to a youngster from Aberchirder who died tragically young.

Visited 2/1/2012.

I first came to South Weald Camp to see the ramparts adorned with the bluebells of Spring... unfortunately, however, I left knowing that I would have to return at some point in order to settle unfinished business. If you’ve read the miscellaneous post you’ll be aware that this Late Iron Age enclosure has not had an easy ride into the 21st Century. Far from it. Now medieval alterations, I can accept.... but a cricket pitch occupying the eastern half of an Essex plateau fort? Do me a favour. People supposedly intelligent enough to play cricket should really know better, should they not? Having said that, though, this Modern Antiquarian should have had the balls to highlight this discrepancy back in April. But, to my shame, I bottled it and went away with the job half done.

Consequently I engineer the return home this New Year’s Day – following a morning at Old Harlow’s fine round barrow – so as to pass through Brentwood. A little before the town a minor road leaves the A128 to literally bisect South Weald Camp. It is possible to park just south of the enclosure, from whence a rather idiosyncratic stile affords a visit to the western half of the camp. To avail yourself of the eastern half, walk back up the road and make for the cricket club pavilion, G&Ts at the ready. As it happens, today being New Year’s Day and all, there is no one around. So I reckon no-one is therefore going to mind me having a quick look at my local heritage. A metal gate to the south gives access to a muddy track following the outside perimeter of the camp. Although badly damaged, the south-eastern arc of the bank is still pretty substantial... the eastern defences more so, although possible medieval amendments should be bourne in mind, I guess. Only to the north is the bank truly trashed, having the indignity of being sandwiched between practice cricket nets. Howzat? Very nearly ‘out’. But not quite.

It begins to rain... as forecasted.... and then, to all intents and purposes, monsoon. Which I don’t recall being mentioned. But there you are. Nevertheless I can’t leave without another visit to the western half of the camp, if only for the sake of continuity. No bluebells on this occasion, the ramparts rising stark within the landscape, trees offering skeletal profiles in Winter raiment. My dodgy ‘hillfort-allocation’ waterproofs begin to give way under the prolonged onslaught of the rain. But it is of little consequence. I am happy I’ve now seen the whole picture, as it were.

Yeah, poor South Weald Camp may have been dealt a poor hand by fate, but I reckon it’s still well worth an hour or so of anyone’s time.