Latest Fieldnotes

Drive back into Emmen and out the other side past the railway station on the Boslaan into yet another forested area , the Emmer Dennen, and you will find D45, the great Emmen hunebed just a 10 minute walk from the city centre. I had seen a photo of it on Hans Meijer’s wonderful site, but it didn’t prepare me for the mammoth, in-yer-face gorgeousness of it!

Again surrounded by mature mixed woodland, this impressed me more than the biggest hunebed of them all that we had first seen at Borger, in fact I find it hard to believe that the one at Borger is bigger. The lime irredescent flash of a woodpecker as it swooped through the branches lead our way towards it. On a high raised area of what remains of the barrow, six whopping capstones are held aloft by at least 17 uprights. It has endstones, a porch and I counted 13 kerbstones which once would’ve marked the edge of the barrow’s gigantic footprint. Apparently there once were 38 kerbstones, but who cares? The 13 that remain are sufficient evidence of a very tall, grand structure indeed.

D14 at Eexterhalte, near Eext and Gieten villages, is one of the bigger hunebedden, with six giant capstones all still up, a line of entrance stones and seven big kerbstones marking out the original shape. In a tree-lined clearing with it own parking space this must be a magnet for summer picnickers.

A nice little hunebed, five stones long, in a very rural setting. Today, the shelter from the drizzle afforded by the holly trees all around was very welcome.

We’d spotted this on Hans Meijer’s hunebedden website (www.hunebedden.com) and despite having no real idea how to get to it, felt we just couldn’t miss it. We had only a crappy map, sporadic road signs and sheer determination to get us there. Balloo village straggled out in all directions but we finally picked up a sign and followed it. So you don’t have to struggle, here’s how to get there:

Go to Balloo and follow the ‘hunebed’ signs. As you leave the final buildings of the village, stay on the main track where a muddier track forks right. You’re on a track through a nature reserve. It says you’re not mean to take vehicles down here, but nobody was about so we did anyway. After ¾km a cycle path forks left, but continue on and go right at the next T-junction. Go along this muddy track which meanders from side-to-side, for around another ¾ km. Turn right at the next junction. (We nearly gave up at this point!) Go up to the end of that bit and turn left at that T-junction. You’ll probably see the monument 400ms to the left of the junction. With care, we drove it in thick mud in an ordinary family saloon car. You shouldn’t need a 4W drive.

This one is well worth the effort. Remotely sited on the edge of nowhere, it has a glorious sense of peace and is in very good shape indeed. It looked lean and slim and had an extraordinary grace to it. This one also has its portal stones and for all you rock art fans, look out for the cup marks!

Just out of the village of Loon, one field away from the railway line lies the remains of Loon hunebed. In the ploughed up parsnip field next to it they’d been muckspreading so the place stank, but the sweet sight of D15 soon filled our senses. Though reasonably small, this one still has lots of lovely kerbstones and the rise of its original barrow is still very apparent. It also has its original portal entrance, with capstone still up, like a tiny little dolmen. Tons of character here.

Ooh! In TME, Julian says he couldn’t find this one, but we found it with ease. I always smile when I visit monuments in urban settings and this one didn’t disappoint. With only two flat capstones balanced on five remaining uprights, it looks very like a mini-allee-couverte or a ‘My Little Hunebed’. Nestling between tidy, small 1950s detached houses, and opposite a bus shelter, someone had used the monument as a convenient bike park. It had a plot of land all to itself and looked very comfortable with its current position.

I think Julian calls this one Annen but it is in the village of Noordlo on the main drag north out of the village.

Leaving Drenthe province, we briefly entered Groningen province by a few hundred metres to find G1 just outside the village of Noordlaren. It is signposted but you need to keep your eyes peeled to see it. Walk about 200ms on the path through the fields towards the trees and you’ll find what’s left of this once mighty beast. Judging by the size of the remaining stones, just two capstoned segments giving the impression of a double dolmen, it was up there with the largest. It has phenomenal interior width spanning 2½ metres.

D6 is also rather unattractively named ‘the Devils Cunt’ lies within spitting distance of a busy level crossing, in a clearing on the outskirts of the village with trains roaring past. It’s quite small – just three small capstones long. It feels quite complete though, rather than being a fragment of anything bigger, as it is nicely proportioned and still retains endstones.

Moth thought it was slightly disappointing, but I liked its neatness. As we could park on the road pretty much next to it, I sat in the car to make a sketch through the window out of the rain.

Julian doesn’t mention D5 in TME, but we saw it marked on the map and happened to be passing close by the village. We thought we’d have a go at finding it, despite the fact that we were beginning to lose the light. We did. And there it was. From the lane, it looked pretty disappointing, but as we approached we saw that actually it was sunken and still had plenty of barrow material around it, curvaceously moulded around the 3 smallish segments.

We drove to Zeijen and spotted a sign to the hunebed. We must have been one kilometre out of the village already so we turned back, thinking we might pick up another sign that we had missed. No luck. So I called in at the village bakkerij to ask directions. The woman behind the counter had been doing a roaring trade in oliebollen (a Dutch doughnut with sultanas in traditionally eaten on New Year’s Eve) and was surprised to hear me ask ‘Waar is het hunebed, alstublieft?’ She wasn’t fooled by my pathetic attempts in Dutch and gave me clear directions in English: ‘Keep going at least one kilometre, you’ll see the sign on your right.‘

On the way up to see D1 at Steenbergen and D2 at Westervelde (which we had to give up on) we passed through the village of Norg. The church, which is on the main drag next to the village centre car park has the remnants of a monument just outside the front door, sandwiched between it and the main road. These small stones don’t have an official D number, but they were clearly part of something. We spotted some other suspicious-looking stones in the car park which had been carefully tarmac’d around rather than moved or carted off, which we felt was quite significant.

There are two hunebedden at Drouwen, just about 50 metres apart and another one (D26) about a kilometer away. D20 is one of the twins. We were actually on our way to Bronneger to see the five there, but passing through Drouwen to get there, we suddenly glimpsed the twins of D19 and D20 no more than 10 metres apart.

They have there own big space in parkland on the edge of the village. People come here often – we could see the tracks in the snow – to exercise their dogs, play with their kids or just as a point to walk to and from. How splendid that this pair of lovelies are still enjoyed.

D19 has virtually no kerbstones left but five of its capstones survive and are still up. Both D19 and D20 are a good size, too, like D52 at Noordsleen and just as impressive.

There are two hunebedden at Drouwen, just about 50 metres apart and another one (D26) about a kilometer away. D20 is one of the twins. We were actually on our way to Bronneger to see the five there, but passing through Drouwen to get there, we suddenly glimpsed the twins of D19 and D20 no more than 10 metres apart.

They have there own big space in parkland on the edge of the village. People come here often – we could see the tracks in the snow – to exercise their dogs, play with their kids or just as a point to walk to and from. How splendid that this pair of lovelies are still enjoyed.

There are two hunebedden at Rolde, just about 50 metres apart. They lie at the edge of the village in parkland next to a magnificent medieval brick built church and graveyard.

D18 is in much better condition than its twin, D17, with all its capstones up. A large hunebed is a textbook example, but I found it strangely characterless.

D3 and D4 hunebedden are almost Siamese twins and locked toegther in a row. They are now both in such a sorry state, squeezed end-to-end between the garden of a run down cottage and a crumbling, disused farm building. Their massive stones have been knocked down and lie strewn about, hinting at what once was. They looked tired, almost dead, for practically all the capstones were knocked off their feet. But for all that, we found them curiously enchanting collapsed in their higgledy-piggledy semi-rural alleyway.

D3 and D4 hunebedden are almost Siamese twins and locked toegther in a row. They are now both in such a sorry state, squeezed end-to-end between the garden of a run down cottage and a crumbling, disused farm building. Their massive stones have been knocked down and lie strewn about, hinting at what once was. They looked tired, almost dead, for practically all the capstones were knocked off their feet. But for all that, we found them curiously enchanting collapsed in their higgledy-piggledy semi-rural alleyway.

Here at Bronneger, near Drouwen, you get five all at once in a glorious bucolic setting with fields and woodlands. And though badly trashed, they still have the power to enchant, both individually and as a group.

D21 is a small monument and has all three of its capstones still up and neat little endstones like full stops. It is very reminiscent of D6 at Tynaarlo. Nestling against it is a delightful mature tree. It is no more than 4ms away from its closest neighbour, D22.

Here at Bronneger, near Drouwen, you get five all at once in a glorious bucolic setting with fields and woodlands. And though badly trashed, they still have the power to enchant, both individually and as a group.

Just 4ms from its closest neighbour, D21, D22 is reduced to just two large flat capstones on the ground at the base of a tree.

Here at Bronneger, near Drouwen, you get five all at once in a glorious bucolic setting with fields and woodlands. And though badly trashed, they still have the power to enchant, both individually and as a group.

D23, D24 and D25 stand in a little copse about 50ms from D21 and D22.
D23 is just a dolmen now with a couple of other stones scattered around. Nevertheless, if this part alone was transported to a remote Yorkshire moor, I know many stones enthusiasts for who would traipse over rough ground to see it.

Just two kilometers out of Borger as you drive east towards Buinen, if you look to you right, in a sandy field, you will clearly see D28 and D29 in their own little state-owned space.

Indeed, all hunebedden except the ruinous one at Westernesch are nationally maintained. It gave me a little thrill of excitement that I had found this one so easily. It was quite discreetly signposted and might easily have been missed.

A short stroll of 50ms or so from the car and you approach to D29 first. D28 lies just 10 or 15ms beyond it. They are both very similarly sized, both having clearly originally having three capstones, but now both only have two. This two-for-the-price-of-one double whammy of hunebedden!

Bang! Start with a good ‘un if you can. D53 has nine capstones all up thanks to a post-war restoration and is the second biggest hunebed in the Netherlands. Amid sandy, heathery heathland away from the village this is a beast! With picnic tables and seats aplenty it’s clearly THE local beauty spot, though today we had it more or less to ourselves. The rain made the stones glisten and they looked so gorgeous I was immediately frustrated that I wouldn’t be able to sketch it with the drizzle coming down. D53 also has a capstoned portal, which is quite unusual. I felt so happy here! So happy that I ran the 50 metres or so up to D54, clearly visible on the rising dune further up the road. Another lovely site, this one with six capstones, all up. What a beautiful pair!

Julian calls this one Fokkinger Slag in TME, which is actually the name of the nearby road.

8 April 2006

It was raining hard and looked set in for the day as we approached Jelling, Denmark’s spiritual home.

Moth and had I been musing on the difference between British jam and American jelly, wondering about the (il)logic of American musicians jamming rather than jelling, when, quite randomly, Bob Marley’s ‘Jammin’’ started playing on the MP3 player.

Jelling was virtually deserted when we arrived. Ours was the only car in the car park and everything was closed, even the museum. And it was very, very cold.

Jelling is a small town centred on series of monuments from a number of different ages. First a bronze age barrow, then a Viking stone long ship, then runestones, then two gigantic mounds, then a church. Peel back the layers here and you begin to understand Denmark’s history and sense of national identity.

It is only 1,000 years since Christianity was adopted by Danish kings over the old religion and Jelling marks the place where this happened. Outside the church that now stands between the two mounds a Viking runestone is carved with the earliest known image of the crucified Jesus in Scandinavia.

Each monument has been acknowledged and built into the next phase of Jelling. I like that continuity even if it does mean the land close to the mounds around the church and the runestones is now filled with neat and tidy modern graves.

We wandered around trying to make sense of it but the place lacked atmosphere without any people around. Unusually this is set of monuments that needs people to make it live. A visit to the museum would help us understand but it wasn’t open for an hour and a half, so we drove around in the rain in a fruitless search for the carved tree on the Jelling pages of TME (page 167) before returning to Jelling Kro for some coffee and a plate of chips.

The museum is situated directly opposite the mounds, runestones and church. As you go round reading the excellent displays in Danish and English you can glance out of huge glass windows and actually see the monuments in front of you.

There is a feel of Avebury about this place – the monuments and history still being occupied, enjoyed, revered and used, even if the reasons ‘why here especially?’ are not addressed.

It is pretty remarkable that only a few years or so before William of Normandy invaded England, the Danes were still following their native ‘pagan’ religion.

Ristinge Klint sits on top of a tiny, narrow peninsula, jutting out the west of Langeland. The rain, hail and sleet had passed and the beach was bathed in warm sunshine, the first time I’d not been cold whilst outside all week. We walked along the path up through the dunes and along the sandy cliffs above the deserted and beautiful beach until we reached this glorious erection.

It was much bigger than we dared hope from the tiny line drawing in the pamphlet we had. We were all delighted with it. This is a textbook dolmen.

Hidden in the woods between Kerlescan and La Trinite this is one of those little treats for the dedicated hunter. Remember the trick is to seek out the ‘Camping Interdit’ signs and hope for the best. This is one of the reasons to get a good map and go hunting, you can guarantee no one will have been there for ages so you can get a real ‘I’m an explorer’ experience.

The most popular misconception about how this site gets its name is that it was knowns as ‘The Merchant’s Table’. In fact its name comes from the former land owners, whose name was Marchant.
These days the Table des Marchants is covered by a wholly reconstructed cairn, which serves not only to protect the carvings within but also to demonstrate how many of the, now uncovered, local dolmens would have originally looked. Although the accuracy of this reconstruction cannot be guaranteed, it was based on detailed study of the underlying archaeology.
Within the mound the fabulous rear upright stone is decorated with many crooks, but in many ways the main attraction is the capstone. For here one can see a partial carving of two horned beasts. This capstone was once a section of a large carved menhir, the tip of which now covers the Er-Grah mound next door. However it was only realised fairly recently that the third section is now the main capstone of the Gavrinis mound, a few kilometres away on an island in the Gulf of Morbihan. This was one of the discoveries which lead to the theory of older menhirs being destroyed and used in passage-gave construction.
The Table des Marchants forms a complex with the Grand Menhir Brise and the Er- Grah mound, but many of Locamariaquer’s other sites are in close proximity.