thesweetcheat

The inner face of the inner bank of the triple rampart defences on the west.

The interior of the site.

The view southeast from the tip of the promontory that the fort cuts off. Broadhaven beach is beyond the dunes. The lily ponds would originally have been a tidal inlet.

Great, twisty stone this.

The rain that had accompanied us from Manorbier to Barafundle Bay finally started to clear as we got here.

The fort from the west.

The earthwork enclosing the western “annexe” of the fort.

Looking across the multiple lines of defences to the fort’s interior.

The outer ramparts. The land falls away steeply to a spring to the north of the fort.

The inner rampart, looking NE towards Trewent Point.

The crumbling red sandstone that makes up the fort’s interior is gradually falling away into the sea.

The platform on the highest part of the fort’s interior. Difficult to see in the bad weather, but the furthest point visible (left of centre) is the currently inaccessible Old Castle Head cliff fort. The next headland along to the left is the location of King’s Quoit chambered tomb.

Looking down on the multiple lines of the outer defences from the inner rampart.

The huge inner rampart is on the left, looking towards the multiple rows of lower earthworks that protect the landward approach to the fort.

Greenala Point cliff fort from the northeast. Despite the thick drizzle, the ramparts can be clearly seen. Stackpole Head is the prominent headland in the distance.

The medieval remodelling of the cavern’s entrance can be seen from the riverside path.

Looking up at the gnarly, wrinkled limestone of the cavern’s ceiling.

Looking inwards from the entrance.

The cavern is huge, the entrance has been blocked off with medieval masonry.

Late afternoon, seen from Uffcott Down to the northwest.

The excellent disc barrow outside the northwest of the fort.

I wouldn’t want to be the one trying to overrun this place, armed with a flimsy spear.

Other visitors give scale to the immense earthworks on the southern side of the fort.

Western ramparts.

The northeastern corner of the fort.

Despite its size, the unwary and uninterested could easily walk past the barrow, hidden under trees and vegetation.

Ancient burials and modern sit side by side.

The overgrown top of the barrow.

Very decent barrow this.

The wooded interior, from the southeastern (original) entrance.

The southeastern section of the rampart.

Come the summer much of the rampart will be obscured by vegetation.

The impressive but heavily overgrown southern rampart.

The southern rampart.

The southwestern corner of the fort. The encircling track moves away from the rampart here, so the original ditch can be seen at its best.

The western side of the fort.

The northwestern corner of the fort. The rampart survives to an impressive height, although the ditch has been filled in to create the track.

The eastern rampart.

Plan of the fort, showing permissive access.

St Ann’s Well (see folklore) where my phone went temporarily dead.

St. Ann’s Pool (see folklore).

Showing the prominence of the fort in its landscape. Seen from Dinedor Cross to the southwest.

The southwestern corner of the rampart is the one place where the sandstone used in the construction is exposed, although whether this is just revetting or the whole bank is composed of this can’t be seen.

The interior of the fort has a lovely feel, the mature trees are widely spaced and there is little vegetation beneath to impede access.

Spring on the southern rampart.

Trees on the ramparts obscure much of the view from the fort, but where there are gaps the visibility is extensive. Looking over the southern rampart, towards the ridiculously ubiquitous May Hill in Gloucestershire, a hill that seems to be visible from everywhere.