Latest Fieldnotes

The Shian Hillock must surely be one of the best kept cairns in Northern Scotland. Top marks to the farmer who seems to look after it properly.

This a fantastic site just to east of the Muckle Burn with stunning views, south to Highlands, north to the Moray Firth and the Black Isle, west towards Inverness and east towards Moray. Stunning location full stop.

The cairn is some 33 meters wide and 4 meters high. To the south of cairn at 12 kerbs can be seen. Thanks to the growth I spied 5 large kerbs. To the north west a small amount of erosion allows to see how the cairn was constructed. The top of the cairn has been ‘dug out’ which at the time revealed stone coffins. During the 1800’s Pagan interments were discovered.

This is a very easy cairn to walk to. From Nairn head south on the A939, forts all over the place here, pulling in after the Littlemill junction on the brow of the hill. The cairn is to the west and can’t be seen from the road. Somebody spoke about a ‘wow factor’ when visiting sites. Once you get to the crest of the hill be prepared to be stunned.

Visited 21/07/2011.

From the end of the Tinkinswood permissive path, I take the narrow road southwards. It turns out to be surprisingly busy, on account of the main entrance to the nearby Dyffryn Gardens. But it’s not far to the St Lythans long cairn. A gate leads into the field and the chamber is impossible to miss.

What a great site. The original long mound is very much reduced, but this is all about the boxy chamber that remains. It’s big, not in the enormous scale of Tinkinswood, but still larger than I expected. The internal space is more than sufficient for me to stand upright and the side slabs must weigh several tons, let alone the enormous (somewhat pirate-hattish) capstone.

Unlike Tinkinswood, there’s no rubbish strewn around, which helps. The internal faces of the side slabs are worn smooth, pitted with little holes and pock-marks. And there’s one larger hole running straight through the top of the back slab. This must have been there before the stone was selected for use, as it appears to be natural weathering, or perhaps an air pocket in the sedimentary mud that would one day turn to stone.

I like this site a lot and spend almost an hour here. By the end of my visit I am feeling much better than when I arrived, the leg-gouging fence and feisty bullocks of the morning forgotten. I decide that it’s time to revisit to Tinkinswood on the return leg.

An unsettled Monday (27.6.2011) takes me to the little village of St Nicholas, a couple of miles west of Cardiff. I’m here to see two of South Wales’ most famous prehistoric monuments, tucked away in the low-lying fields of the Vale of Glamorgan.

Leaving the village behind to the north, the OS map shows a long distance path, the Valeways Millenium Heritage Trail, providing an off-road route to both of today’s sites. Nicely waymarked, it leaves the minor road over a stile and into fields of pasture. So far so good for the first two fields, but the third brings something of a problem – a herd of bullocks, far too curious for my liking. In some haste to leave their field, I manage to catch my trouser leg on barbed wire, cutting a 6” slit from knee to shin. Damn.

So I arrive at Tinkinswood in less than ideal spirits. Nevertheless, the first sight of the enormous structure goes some way to improving things, until I sit down and realise that the slash in my trouser leg continues into my leg and I am bleeding quite badly. Oh dear, this isn’t going especially well. Antiseptic wipe and plaster applied (see, I was prepared), it starts to rain. Good grief.

I take shelter under the capstone itself – it’s possible to stand upright under it in places and despite the muddy puddle in the centre there are places to sit out of the rain. Sadly, there is a lot of rubbish strewn in here and on the mound. My equilibrium isn’t quite right here, and after the rain stops and I’ve taken a few pictures, I decide to head off to St Lythans. I will be back here later anyway, hopefully for a longer stay.

After my first experience of the Heritage Trail, I decide to abandon the plan of following it to the next site and instead make for the nearby road along the permissive path. As others have noted, there are a number of very large slabs of the local mudstone that forms the Tinkinswood capstone tucked away in the trees and neighbouring paddock. I had read that the capstone itself was dragged from here and that a matching gap had been found amongst the trees.

.......

I return on my way back from St Lythans. This time I approach along the permissive path rather than trying any footpaths.

Once again, rain is threatening. I have a few things to look for this time though. The plan of the monument from George Nash’s excellent “The Architecture of Death” shows several intriguing rows of stones running N-S within the mound at its western end. I find the tops of a few of these, barely protruding. There is also a finely presented stone-lined pit cut into the top of the mound, next to a jumble of large blocks. The pit may be a cist from a secondary burial. The mound is neatly revetted by (restored) drystone walling, which rather oddly continues across the face of the blocking slab in the forecourt, leaving only a small portal that presumably was the original point of entry into the chamber itself.

This time, I go round and collect all the rubbish I can find, about half a carrier bag’s worth of tealights, filter tips, drinks bottles, sweet wrappers and even the charred end of a fence-post. That done, I immediately feel much better about the place. Strangely perhaps, even the pylon has little effect on my mood here, it seems the litter was the more pressing intrusion. It’s a shame to find such a magnificent site left in a state – the wags may keep “amending” the info board to show that the monument is “in the care of the Goddess”, but if so she’s not doing a right lot to look after the place.

The rain comes in, heavier this time. Once more I take shelter inside. There is often a comforting feeling in watching heavy rain fall when you’re safely indoors and that feeling is very strong here, sitting under the protective capstone and watching the water lashing down and running off the stones. The chamber is a fascinating place to spend time. The inner faces of the stones, like those at St Lythans, have been worn smooth in many places. Whatever the purposes the chamber was used for in prehistory, it has certainly seen a lot of people coming and going over its vast timespan, rubbing the surfaces smooth. The rain retreats and advances again over the next two hours. A couple of people come and go, one dog walker stops to chat for a few minutes in between the showers. It is nice to spend this amount of time at a single site, something I rarely do on my trips out. I will definitely be back here again; it’s a bit special.

This four poster lies at approximately the same elevation as Allt Cul Corriehiam but at a few hundred metres further East across the hill. You will find it at roughly the point where the broad level tongue starts to drop away. Again one stone lies fallen in the long grass. This four poster is a little smaller than Allt Cul Corriehiam and sits in a slight hollow and a few yards to the South in deep bracken sit two more stones in some kind of setting.
Despite being way out in the open air, I found the site felt quite enclosed and that it had less of the ambience and open-skied vibe of Allt Cul Corriehiam. Perhaps it was because the site perches above a narrow river valley with the steep sides of Burican Hill on the other side of the water. But somehow it felt less like a stone circle and more like a grave, with its two larger stones marking the head and feet.
As I stood up from crouching down to take a picture, a Merlin flew past me at waist height less than five feet away. I was nearly blown off my feet in surprise, but steadied myself and stood grinning like a fool as I watched it fly at breakneck speed down the hillside. I never find my time is ever wasted heading out to sites like these, even if the stones aren’t the greatest, Nature often steps in and gives you a wee treat. Particularly on Arran.

Beyond the Teanga Burican

I was surprised just how short and easy this walk was and just how fruitful the journey was to become with a wonderful array of sites ranged across the gentle lower slopes of Tormusk. They were only discovered in the late 1990’s and they include three four-posters, numerous cairns, cists, stone alignments and standing stones spread across the hillside’s lower slopes. I strongly advise plotting the sites carefully on an Explorer Series OS map from the Canmore site beforehand. A few feet of peat has been laid down since the sites were constructed, add to that a further two or three feet of growing heather, bracken, grass and reeds which conspire to conceal everything… but that is half the fun – seeing these ghostly, forgotten sites emerge from the undergrowth in front of your eyes! For those who enjoy bird spotting I saw seven different birds of prey (White-tailed Eagle, Golden Eagle, Kestrel, Buzzard, Hen Harrier, Sparrow Hawk, Merlin and Tawny Owl) in the leisurely hour and a half the walk took around this group of sites.

Directions – drive from Lamlash along the unclassified Ross Road two and a half kilometres beyond the Buddhist Retreat Centre. Park at the layby by the green sign marking the footpath to Shiskine. Or if coming in from Sliddery drive ½ km past Glenree Farm and park in the same layby. Take the Shiskine footpath and follow for ¾ km till it joins another path. Follow this path up the little wooded river valley. There is a fence on your right hand side. Descend to the ford (if the ford, riverbanks and riverbed is of red sandstone bedrock you are in the wrong place – return to the main path and follow it further upstream for 300m to the next ford). The path becomes a fine quad track. You will pass what appear to be three large capstones lying by the path. You will then find yourself passing through a gap in a large drystane and turf structure. This is the Teanga Burican and marks the beginning of the surprises! It might seem like the *rse-end of nowhere but this really is the beginning of everywhere – you just have to look carefully!
Standing on top of the Teanga Burican you can easily see a prominent standing stone on the hillside. Keep your eye on it as it is a useful orientation marker for the other sites. Continue up the path until you draw level with the standing stone and strike out confidently across the hillside towards it!

The West of Scotland Archaeological Service (WoSAS) report says that the prominent standing stone has a cup mark. I couldn’t find one. Perhaps I’d found a different stone. This one was about 1 ½ metres high and slanting slightly. For some reason the photos came out all blurry – so it’ll be next time for those.

Next, I headed up the slope looking for the first four poster 90-odd metres further on. All I could see was the mogre of near waist-high bracken and heather I was wading through. I felt my heart sinking… How on Earth would I find anything in this undergrowth? I counted off a hundred paces up the hill. Suddenly there it was! Right at my feet! The bracken had subsided a bit and the heather revealed a smashing little jaggy-toothed four poster right in front of my eyes! The stone to the North East is fallen, but lies right where it should be, snug in its peat and heather bed. The views back down to Bennecarrigan and the coast at Sliddery are stunning. The four poster sits on a broad gentle tongue just a few hundred feet up, but its elevation and situation on these empty moorland slopes give it a real lofty vibe.

With Willie Adie (96 years old and still climbing up and down hills) I used a different route. From Ythanbank (a wee village) head north west on the Schivas road and pull in at the first house on the left. After opening a gate head to the top of the hill. The remains of the cairn can be seen. 12 meters wide and sadly only 0.6 meters in height, this cairn has been well robbed. Must have been an impressive sight looking down onto the River Ythan and Bellmuir.

Re-visited 19/07/2011.

This late Bronze Age cist was found whilst ploughing in 2001. The capstone was moved and the cist found. Inside was a broken beaker, some flints and one or two tools. It’s length is 4 feet and width 2 feet. Other stones, probably involved with site, are kept on the rough square of ground. And so it remains not well looked after but not badly treated either.

Willie Adie showed me this site. Head south from Pitmedden on the B999 taking the fist minor road east. This leads to the village of Udny Green and Udny Castle. Stop at the cemetry and walk to first field on the south side to the east. Tho the field is in crop, no damage was done as the tractor tracks led straight to the site.

Visited 19/07/2011.

Visited July 2004

We visited this completely by accident some years back, and for some reason it’s been hovering around in my thoughts so I thought it about time I added it here!

Mrs G and I took a circular walk, starting from Sancreed Holy Well, via Boscawen-Un and associated standing stones, when I spotted the word “Well”, in script, not far up the road, so we thought we may as well investigate.

Following the map, we were taken up the driveway of a private house, with “Goldherring” displayed in the wrought iron gate. We thought it just the name of the property, and thought nothing more of it, as we hadn’t heard of the place until then.

We saw someone sitting in the garden, so we cautiously and politely approached to ask if they knew anything of the well. The man was vrey friendly, and before we could say anything, asked if we’d come to look at the ancient village! Well, yes please, we replied!

He very kindly took us on a guided tour of the site – which, to be honest, was largely unrecogniseable under the foliage, but every now and again, a large stone, or section of wall would appear through a gap. He showed me the location of the well, which was completely overgrown and unidentifiable, and was informed that it had been long since covered after a cow got trapped (and later freed) after falling in!

It was amazing to see the lumps and bumps, and trace the shapes into possible circular buildings

Craig Weatherhill, in his excellent book “Belerion”, suggests the walls are actually later in date (Medieval). We didn’t even think about referring to the book when we visited, due to not even knowing of it’s existence, but would dearly love to go back and have a good explore.

After a quick but damp stop at The Pipers (24.6.2011), Merry Maidens will be our last hurrah of the holiday. As we approach, the noise of tractors gets increasingly loud. The northern gate into the Merry Maidens field has been chained and padlocked, so we have to go round to the “main” entrance. Here the source of the noise becomes apparent, as two tractors are performing a series of complicated dance steps in a quest to mow the hay around the circle. Where’s that one man and his dog, Spot, these days? Progress eh?

If that wasn’t enough, a little party of Americans are being shown how to dowse by their local tour guide. No chance of a quiet wander here today. And it’s raining.

I remain ambivalent about Merry Maidens. On the one hand it’s a beautiful circle (albeit restored), with views of nearby Gun Rith and the rounded hills of SW Penwith. If you get it to yourself on a sunny day, it’s an utter joy. On the other hand, its perfection is a bit too, well, perfect. And its roadside placing makes it a source of almost constant visitors, most of whom drive up, get out, take a few pics and leave. Today a couple of women arrive while we’re there and almost immediately have a row about something.

So it’s a somewhat sad experience today. The combination of tractors, dowsers, cars and rows makes this something of an anti-climatic end to this summer’s Penwith stone-spotting.

But there are a couple of pluses. First, while we wait for the 300 bus, a cyclist arrives and we chat to him for a few minutes. He’s trying to cram in as many places as he can and seeing the much-highlighted map asks if we’ve been to Sancreed Well and if it’s worth going to see. Certainly is. And you might want to have a look at Carn Euny and fogou whilst there. I hope he made it there and enjoyed it.

Secondly, we get onto the bus and the sun comes out. We sit up top, in a pretty stiff wind it must be said, and enjoy the trip around the peninsular. There are few better ways to see West Penwith and it finishes the holiday on the hoped-for high that Merry Maidens sadly didn’t manage to conjure today.

The last day of our holiday (24.6.2011) and the weather is not exactly promising – much as it has been throughout really! We haven’t managed to do the usual open-top bus tour around the peninsula yet, so decide to brave the forecast and go for it, combining with a fleeting stop-off at The Pipers and Merry Maidens.

The number 1 bus (the closed top double decker) drops us near Boleigh Farm, and it’s a quick hop over the gate to see the Pipers. Although we pass them often, this will be the first actual visit for over 10 years. My, haven’t they grown? Well no actually. I think I’ve just got smaller.

These are the whoppingest standing stones you could wish for, despite the lean on the NE stone it’s still a giant. The granite is marked with various vertical cracks and shows no sign of having been worked or shaped. They are what they are, these two.

If it’s necessary to play favourites, I prefer the SW stone, as it has a nice chunky-from-one-side/pointy-from-the-other aspect to it.

Sadly it starts to rain while we’re here, so we head back onto the road for the short walk round to Merry Maidens...

Ive yet to have the pleasure of a full scale visit up Birds rock, but after looking at the aerial views taken by Coflein and provided by the sweetcheat, there arent many things I’d rather do. Instead of a few mild earthworks there are tumbled stone walls, much more interesting..... in a sad kind of way.
The rock dominates the entire valley much more so than the Norman castle to the northest, and acts as an appetiser for the bigger mountains, that seem to crowd in close to look down on the valley, but the true king of the area is the otherwordly Cadair Idris.

Poor stone, poor poor stone. Look what they’ve done to this poor old stone, moved, drilled, a gate hung on it and the hedge isnt a friendly hedge neither.
An essential part of a complete circumnavigation of Cadair Idris. If you like castles, then sooner or later youll get round to visiting Castle y Bere, which is about half a mile away, come see the stone, lament it, caress it, feel sorry for it and while your there why not leave a whole bunch of tat, sorry I mean offerings, farmer gitty Mcdontgiveatoss can clean up for us it seems.

About half a mile southwest of Llanegryn, easy to find and visible from the road, only one gate seperates the stone from the car. We thoughtfully blocked a gate , crossed the road and the gate and ran as fast as someone who doesnt want to run all the way to the stone.
The stone is atleast six foot tall and is sheep rubbed black and smooth on its lower half, but its the view towards the mountains that takes over here, Craig yr Aderyn/Birds rock starts the ball rolling and it doesnt stop till it gets to the misty peak of Cadair Idris, one of Wales most fantastic mountains. It has the most megalithic sites strewn around it’s feet than any ive heard of with maybe Tal y Fan being a close contender. If you like mountain scenery and our ancient heritage take a day or two to have a look round this truly amazing mountain, it wont be a short drive or an easy one but by golly you will love it.

The tiny seaside town of Llwyngwril, is best known for being in between Barmouth and Tywyn, nothing more, though it has a railway station and a liberal spread of caravans, theres not much point in lingering long here unless like us you love all things ancient.
Less than a mile northeast is the two stone row of Gwastadgoed, and a half mile south is this nice little hillfort.
Leaving the village of llwyngwril through the cemetry, it’s not as sacriligous as it sounds thats just the way the road goes.
I parked next to a farm shed, and left Eric in the car, as the fort is so close to the road, (indeed it probably goes over a part of it) I felt no need to make him come with me, he was visible at all times(just).
As with all parts of the North Walean coast as you head inland the hills appear and the road goes up, but just before the hills get too high or too far from the sea, a small hillock protruding from a more substantial hill (is there another word for hill?)with commanding views up and down the coast was chosen for this fortified settlement, they chose well. The ditch is most evident on the southern side, within the ditch is a large earth fast angled boulder, i’m beginning to think they might have a purpose as this is about the fifth time Ive come across one, or it could just be that hills sometimes have stones that cant easily be moved on them,
The entrance isnt well preserved but if Im looking at it all right its on the northern side facing Barmouth, the eastern edge had stone built walls but now only a long stone spread with the obligatory wind shelter inserted to keep the Jessies cozy.
Its no Maiden Castle, it doesnt have mighty works left for us to ponder over, but it is what it is and its in a lovely place, so if your passing and need a break come up here for an hour stretch your legs and blow out the cobwebs.

I leave the enclosure and onto the road. My original plan had been to go down to the cliff castle on Gurnard’s Head, but time is against me now and I don’t want to rush a visit. So I content myself with a stop-off at the southern of the two Treen entrance graves. More overgrown than I remember from my previous visit, this is a great site, full of character and interest. The chamber is almost hidden behind a curtain of bracken fronds, but once inside it’s a cool and damp space.

I have been here a couple of times before, but I was aware that CASPN had been due to carry out one of their volunteer-assisted clear ups, so I was hopeful that it would be easier to make out some of the stones. And so it proved to be. I am still unconvinced by this as a stone circle. It bears no real similarity to the four marvellous stone circles that can still be seen in West Penwith. It’s much bigger in diameter and the stones do not seem to have been carefully selected for their aesthetic quality. On the other hand, the stones all stand alone, none of them are placed contiguously with the others. The solitary stone on the south side wouldn’t be out of place in a “proper” stone circle. To my mind, this seems more likely to have been an Iron Age enclosure or pound, now largely robbed away to leave a ring of individual stones.

Crossing the route of the Tinners Way, the path becomes increasingly faint in amongst the thickening heather, which in turn gives way to ankle-taxing gorse. I have decided to visit the two barrows on The Beacon, even though this turns out to be a rather foolish idea. Progress becomes very slow, and the scratches on my ankles are now bleeding underneath my thin trouser legs. The things we do.

Eventually I reach the southern barrow, only to find it hidden under deep gorse. No thanks. I press on, painfully, trying to find patches of grass to cut through rather than more gorse. This takes a huge amount of faff, but eventually I reach the northern barrow, a low and very wide mound, covered in bracken. Which would be fine, except that there is a ring of deep gorse encircling the whole thing. I push through this, into the centre and onto the mound. This is definitely “it”, but it’s not possible to see anything much through the bracken. Humph. I then have to push back through the gorse to get back out. These sites do not repay summer visits at all.

The footpath heads on up to the top of Mulfra Hill. You can’t really miss the quoit, because it’s right in front of you! The slipped capstone faces me on this approach. By now the sun is at its midday and indeed midsummer peak. Obligatory photos taken, I set my back against the capstone and eat the biggest vegetable pasty I’ve ever had. Yum! What a spot it is, with excellent views over Mount’s Bay to the south, taking in St Michael’s Mount. Castle-an-Dinas is prominent to the east. Over to the west the Nine Maidens ridge and Ding Dong engine house are clearly visible. Perfect.

At Bay of Biscay, a minor road heads northwards to the hamlet of Mulfra. From here a footpath wends along between high walls, leading slowly uphill. It reaches a rusting iron gate, and beyond this can be seen the remains of houses in the Mulfra courtyard settlement. The site is cleared by the Cornish Ancient Sites Preservation Network (CASPN), an excellent organisation who have taken on responsibility for care and monitoring of a number of the sites in West Penwith.

The best house of the group is fairly well-preserved, with its thick outer wall surviving to several courses high. A single, megalithic gatepost marks the entrance. At least one other house stood in this field, but the remaining stones are a jumble and the form is not easy to see. But an excellent spot to sit for a while, looking out over the farmland of the area. I suspect that Carfury menhir may be visible from here. You probably won’t be disturbed on a visit.

Other houses of the settlement lie in much thicker vegetation on the east side of the footpath, but I don’t see anything and feel that I’ve had enough of bracken for one day (although that will come back to haunt me later)!

Carfury menhir is one I’ve intended to visit for years, but somehow never quite made it. It’s not on any footpaths and its location is a bit obscure. I have seen it, across the valley from the southeast, where it stood out grey and stately against the brown autumn bracken. But my only attempt to actually visit it before was from the west, after a trip to Nine Maidens some years ago. That was a summer walk and progress down a vegetation-choked track ground to a halt after not much distance. I am more confident of the approach from the valley, particularly as, once again, I spy the stone surrounded by vegetation from across the valley. How hard can this be?

At this point I don’t really know where the stone is in relation to the features on the OS Explorer map, so I’m looking for clues from this initial vantage point. As seen across the valley, a line through the vegetation runs up the hillside behind the stone, which I remember stands in a low wall. I take this feature to be the narrow track shown on the map as running NE-SW, assuming then that the wall in the description is the southern boundary of the track itself. Boy, would that turn out to be wrong…

I follow the minor road past Carfury itself, where it drops down gently into the valley, cutting off any further views of the stone. The road bends round to the east at a wide gateway and at the point, almost hidden, the narrow track I’m looking for heads off southwest. I follow it, almost immediately entering a green, leafy world with the sun creating dappled patterns on the soft surface beneath the trees. After a while, the path reaches a blockage of vegetation and wire, where a gate on the left leads out onto the hillside. Because I’m thinking the stone is to the left (or south) of the track, I happily take this, thinking the stone will be close by alongside the track.

I emerge into an area of narrow stock tracks surrounded by thick bracken and other vegetation. I head uphill, following parallel with the track. No stone. I head into an area of very dense vegetation, trees and bushes snagging my backpack and sleeves. I come back out near to Mount Whistle, by now thoroughly confused and starting to get a bit irritated with myself. This thing’s nine feet tall for goodness sake! I’ve already seen it! But none of that helps very much. A heavy shower comes winging in, forcing me to take cover once more in the dense vegetation and I realise I must be back “inside” the track again. I wander around the area in ever-decreasing circles for a while, but still no stone. Eventually I start to despair and decide to head back down the hill. At this point, just before giving up, it occurs to me that perhaps the stone is on the other side of the track…

So I head back to the track, looking for an opening to the north. Lo and behold, a muddy cattle run leads off the lane, into the bracken-covered hillside on that side. It leads upwards for a while and suddenly, looming out of the bracken ahead of me, there it is! I’ve never been so happy to find a stone in all my wanderings. I’ve wasted the best part of an hour in completely the wrong place, but this was worth it. Tall and slender, the stone stands with its base in the remains of a low granite wall – which of course I now realise was the linear feature I saw, not the track at all. Doh! Castle-an-Dinas with its hillfort can be seen across the valley to the east, as can more distant Castle Pencaire on the way to the Lizard.

I spend a while here, dodging a further rain shower under nearby hawthorn bushes. Although I’m now running late for the other sites I hope to visit, I’m not going to rush off after all the efforts of finding this bloody stone.

Eventually I head off, back the way I came down to the track. It’ll be easier next time…

We parked at the junction near Cefnfeusydd farm and walked what we thought was the path that goes right by the stones, but was actually slightly higher than the stone row. But that was ok because we went through a field the map says has got two cairns in it. It hasnt, or it has but they now have dozens of neighbours, there are cairns all over the hillside we climbed the biggest two directly east of the stone row, they were twenty feet high and fifty feet across. Not your average field clearance cairn but clearly not the cairns we were looking for......These aren’t the cairns your looking for......
We suddenly remembered the stones and held hands running down the hillside, shouting like bungee jumpers as we went, needless to say the sheep gave us the field.
The two standing stones are north-south of each other the southern one a good mans height, the other as tall as a five year old, there are good views down to the obscure Welsh seaside village of llwyngwril, and long views over to the more famous lleyn peninsula.
Good stones, in good surroundings.

I’d seen the pottery and grave goods from this site at Bangor Museum and read all about it. The jet necklace was absolutely beautiful.

And so despite it having disappointed stubob I decided I wanted to visit because it was clearly a site of some importance.

Frances Lynch says that
“the arrangement of burials and personal belongings chosen to accompany the dead have some interesting social implications. Unlike contemporary burial monuments in some other parts of Britain, no one individual is afforded a position of primacy with in the cemetary. The burials were placed in apparent equality around the stone ring, even though their personal belongings suggest variation in wealth.

she goes on to say
the separate burial of infant earbones, an unexplained ritual practice found several times in North Wales, is especially evident here.

The walk down the track is easy. It is concrete and flat. And some what un-inspiring. We followed our map and Frances Lynch’s directions.

The farmer passed us in his tractor giving us a wave. We went into the field and climbed the mound. I began reading from Frances Lynch’s book to my kids, blahing on about everthing that had been found and talking about the central stone etc... While my son, Rowan, frowned and looked confused.

Next thing there is a shout from the previously friendly farmer who had stopped his tractor and is waving his arms about shouting something at us.

We thought we should go over to him and he had come to the side of the field still waving and shouting.....
“it’s not there, it’s over there...in the next field.”
Hmmmmmmm!

We thanked him and trudged off to the next field where Rowan told me that nothing I had been saying whilst in the other field was making any sense, and now we know why.

We approached down the many gated lane that goes past llyn Cregennen, it has the most gates ive ever seen, really infuriating in the rain, got soaked before we even got there.
Parking was had opposite the gateway through which the stones are just twenty metres beyond.
It was raining, misty and windy when we got out of the car but just five minutes on the weather improved slightly, enough to be able to see the sea and down into Barmouth bay and the peak of Pen y Garn (459m).
The fifth stone that wasnt located on Kammers visit is the fallen northern end stone, obscured by welsh stone hiding grass, not to be confused with lesser other stone hiding grasses.
This would be a good place for a winter solstice sunset, as the row points more or less in the right direction, it may not be exact but with the setting sun and a good stone row in one eyefull, who can resist, one day maybe.

We headed up here after a walk around the wonders of Peninnis Head (22.6.2011).

Last time I came was at the end of a long walk around the island’s principal sites, and Buzza Hill doesn’t quite compare with the top drawer chambered tombs at Bant’s Carn, Innisidgen or Porth Hellick Down. But actually it’s still really impressive. It sits in a commanding position overlooking Porth Cressa and the narrow “neck” of Hugh Town, as well as giving views of the neighbouring islands of St Agnes, Samson, Bryher and Tresco. Only one capstone remains in place, but the mound itself is impressively large and bits of kerb protrude here and there from the grass.

The second tomb recorded by Borlase was apparently destroyed when the nearby windmill was built. Possible remains of a kerb can still be found at its base.

22.6.2011. The weather on this summer’s Cornwall holiday has been anything but predictable, most days vary from heavy rain to blue skies and back again over the course of the days. But I am determined to get back over to the Isles at least once. Tickets for the Scillonian III can be bought on the day, so we head to Penzance, in the rain but hopeful that the weather is going to improve.

The upshot of all of this is that the ferry journey (2hrs 40 or so) is something of a trial. This is the fourth time we have made the trip, but there’s no flat calm today. Talk about peaks and troughs! Although we are both pretty good sailors, sharing a deck with a dozen people being noisily sick begins to upset the hardiest of stomachs – I head up on to the outside deck, preferring to brave the wet, while GF turns her ipod up and sits through the traumas.

But we arrive at Hugh Town harbour on St Mary’s in due course, all safe and sound. A last fleeting squall of rain accompanies our walk to the Old Town, then the sun is out. We haven’t been to the southern tip of the island before, as there are few prehistoric remains and nothing to compare with the extraordinary chambered tombs that pepper the north and east coasts.

Old Town church is worth a quick visit, but the first stoney treat is on the pebbly beach of Carn Leh Cove, where some enterprising artist(s) has stacked the beautifully smooth pebbles up into little piles, making the whole beach look like an outdoor art installation.

From here the path climbs bracken-covered slopes onto Peninnis Head itself. We are greeted by some of the most bizarre and striking natural sculpture I have ever seen. The granite of Scilly, while still very hard, is more porous than its mainland cousin and lends itself to being carved into amazing crests and molar-like blocks, over millenia of assault from wind and salt-water. What an astonishing place!

The cairns themselves are something of a disappointment. Only one is easily identifiable, just NW of the lighthouse and one particular rock that reminded me of the head and shoulders of a troll or goblin, emerging from the clifftop.

The cairn has some visible stonework, possibly indicating the remains of a kerb. There are no chambers here though. A second, badly damaged cairn is just down the slope to the SW. A bit further down is a shallow scoop, which looks likely to be remains of quarrying or even a kelp pit, but isn’t a cairn. We don’t even see the most northerly of the group, missing it under the purple edging on the OS map (the edging indicates Isles of Scilly Wildlife Trust access).

But the spot is a great one, wild and windswept. The extravagantly shaped stones of the headland more than make up for any disappointment in the cairns.

From here we headed up Buzza Hill for a quick visit to the chambered tomb there.