Ravenfeather

Visited 26th October 2012

As fine a monolith as you’ll ever see, but the Watchstone sometimes gets overlooked amongst the excitement of visiting Stenness and Brodgar. There are clear blue skies over the Ness of Brodgar at the moment, but ominous clouds gather around on the horizon, and we drove through a snow shower on the way here from Kirkwall.

As I stand at the base of the stone in the bitter morning air, I just marvel at the immense menhir in front of me. I love this stone, it’s usually one of the first places I come to when I get to Orkney, in a way the Watchstone is a touchstone for me, a signifier that I’m here, in my favourite place in the heart of Neolithic Orkney. We had a horrendously rough crossing over from Aberdeen last night, seasickness striking Ellen, but standing here, all of the ordeal of the journey up seems worthwhile.

Ellen and I parked the car up at Stenness and walked along the road to the stone, the path continuing along a newly constructed lochside route, which leads you on a lovely walk, onwards from the stone, past the site of the Ness of Brodgar excavations until you get to the Ring of Brodgar itself, a walk well worth taking, just make sure to say hello to the Watchstone on your way, as he keeps a silent watch out across this ancient landscape.

Visited 9th August 2012

For the impatient this site can be visited within minutes of leaving the ferry after arriving on Orkney, which is what I did on my first visit to Mainland, overwhelmed as I was by the excitement of finally being here.

In fact I would recommend coming to Unstan first for two reasons. Firstly it allows a great vista across the Loch of Stenness to take in the heart of the Neolithic Orcadian landscape, Maes Howe, the Stones of Stenness and Brodgar are all visible from here. Secondly it’s worth remembering just how impressive this site is, something which can be overshadowed by the sheer grandeur of its more famous nearby neighbours, or after the megalithic overload of the surfeit of ancient sites on Orkney leads to complacency.

Today I take the opportunity to sit atop the mound and take in the wonderful views while I write my fieldnotes and Ellen sketches. Inside the cairn is a good size and an interesting hybrid of stalled cairn, with a side chamber such as those found in the tombs such as Maes Howe and the Fairy Knowe. Fortunately there are no smelly offerings inside today, but the covering of green algae colonising the stones seems to be getting ever greater. When I first visited in 1999 I remember there being hardly any on the stones, now it’s everywhere. Probably the horrendous excavation methods courtesy of archaeological cowboys Callander & Grant in 1934, which ripped off the original roof before slapping on a concrete dome, is leading to the problem. The concrete impeding ventilation, whilst the skylight in the roof raises the temperature inside enough to increase the interior humidity. I hope Historic Scotland are monitoring things to prevent any permanent damage to the stones.

The bird carving and twig runes are still visible thankfully on the lintel to the side chamber, and despite its increasingly verdant interior, it’s nice to spend sometime inside a light and spacious cairn. I’ve a soft spot for this place, as it always reminds me of my first trip to Orkney, and I think of it whenever I look at my reproduction Unstan ware bowl I bought all those years ago on my first time on the island. Although often overlooked don’t pass it by, you’ll be missing out if you do!

Visited 11th August 2012

We set off early from Kirkwall to catch the first ferry of the morning to Hoy, taking advantage of one of the extra sailings taking place that day due to the Kirwall County show being on. It’s severely foggy as we drive to Houton to get the boat, although I’m putting my trust in the weather forecast which is predicting a fine day later. I’m hoping this is the case, having experienced the bleakness of Hoy in grim weather before. My previous visits to the Dwarfie Stane have been via the foot passenger ferry from Stromness, and it’s nice not to have the long walk on foot to reach the tomb, with the ever present threat of missing the boat back and having to emulate Mr Mounsey by spending a night inside the Stane itself.

Arriving at Lyness is like entering an eerie otherworld, as the shapes of the large WW1 era oil tank, and the battleship guns outside the Scapa Flow museum loom out of the mist. The three other vehicles present on our crossing zoom off, and within ten minutes of disembarking we are alone, not a soul visible anywhere, and the feeling of being marooned on a deserted island all pervading.

By the time we have driven to Betty Corrigal’s grave the mist is thinning, and the lonely white gravestone is just visible away from the bleak road, which as it climbs higher breaks out above the fog to a gorgeously clear sunny blue sky. The Dwarfie Stane is well signposted from the road, and pulling into the nice roomy layby opposite the path, you can just make out the stone block of the tomb hunkering beneath the cliffs of the Dwarfie Hamars. Once again I’m struck by how remote this place feels, although now with sunny blue skies and the sparkling azure sea in the background things don’t feel as brooding as when I was last here.

The path to the stone is well defined, although rocky and occasionally rough going, and seems a further walk from the road than I remember, but once you reach the tomb it is so worth it! Such a unique monument, and I love the rich and redolent folklore surrounding it. It’s a truly magical location. Inside things are just as spectacular, surprisingly roomy and comfortable, I waste no time in reclining on the stone ‘bed’ and if I were camping in this desolate landscape I can think of worse places to shelter. I could certainly see Snorro the dwarf making a comfortable home here!

It’s also worth mentioning the incredible resonance of the acoustics inside the stone, in one particular area near the centre of the chamber the bass reverberations, even just from normal speech can be felt as a physical thing. It also looked as if there might be at least one large cupmark on the interior face of the blocking stone, which interestingly enough would have meant the carving was for the benefit of the interred occupant, rather than any sort of external decoration, and reminded me of the positioning of cupmarks on the interior cist slabs of tombs in the Kilmartin valley.

To echo Carls fieldnotes, this place is a definite must visit, and if you’re ever on Orkney it would be remiss not to visit the Dwarfie Stane, although taking the car over to Hoy is not cheap if budgets are tight the Stromness foot passenger ferry is more reasonable, although it would involve a long fairly strenuous walk to the stone, it makes it feel even more of a pilgrimage when you get there! (I think there may have been a place that hired out bicycles near to the ferry pier at Moaness on Hoy, last time I came via that route, but that was quite a while ago!)

It’s hard to leave on a day as glorious as today, but we pressed on to Rackwick, a few miles further along the road, and as beautiful a setting as ever you’re likely to see, surrounded by the sea and mountains, in splendid isolation with the islands of Orkney stretching before us, it reminds me again just how wonderful these islands are.

Visited 13th August 2012

I’ve always looked at these stones on past visits to Orkney and wondered if they were once part of a great processional avenue between Stenness and Brodgar, and always marvelled at how fantastic it would be to have such a pair of stones in your front garden.

The fact that they were so close to someone’s house had always deterred me previously from approaching them too closely, instead contenting myself from taking pictures from the roadside. However whilst on a tour of the Ness of Brodgar excavations we were told by our guide that the house had been bought and gifted to the excavation by a mysterious benefactor! Since it was now occupied only by archaelogists on a tea break I took the opportunity after the tour to get up close and personal with the stones.

They seem to both align with Stennes as well as obviously being adjacent with the other structures being uncovered on the Ness, and it will be fascinating to see whether any further evidence of additional stones once having been present comes to light in the future, apparantly long term plans will be for the house to eventually be removed from the site to open up the landscape and allow additional excavations to take place on the site the house occupies (all depandant on securing the continuation of funding for the dig of course)

It’s great to be able to pay an unhurried visit to the stones in the heart of this amazing area of rich prehistoric remains, and keep your eye out for Corncrakes, the RSPB have been developing some Corncrake friendly environments along the Ness to encourage an increase in the birds numbers, we didn’t see any today but we had spotted a small group of them a couple of days previously early in the morning as we were heading out to get the ferry to Hoy.

Visited 12th August 2012

To my mind one of the finest standing stones in Orkney, and so easy to visit, as you head up towards the equally fantastic Brough of Birsay on the A967. The huge 12’ high bulk of the stone is unmissable to your left as you head north towards Birsay. We pulled into a nearby lane, just to the left as you pass the gate to the field, where it is easy to park at the side of the road while you visit the stone.

Although there are many stones on Orkney this one seems to have a real character, and is in a lovely setting near the coast, and looking down to its favourite watering hole of the Loch of Boardhouse.

Letting myself into the empty field through the nearby gate it’s easy enough to duck under the rickety barbed wire fence which cages in the stone (presumably in an effort to curtail it’s nocturnal yuletide wanderings!). A brisk Orcadian wind batters me as I hug the stone, but the gorgeous blue sky and shelter provided by the menhir encourage me to stay a while, and just take in the splendour of this huge stone which has stood here for so long, an ancient landmark even when the Norsemen were here, the name of the neighbouring farm, Stanger, coming from the old Norse ‘steinn-garðr’ meaning ‘Stone Farm’.

Soon I know we’ll have to move on down to Birsay, as the sun is bright and sparkling over the sea, beckoning us down to the coast, but you can’t ignore a visit to a stone such as this, just as long as you don’t get in the way of it’s drinking habits!

Visited 9th August 2012

Having a bit more time on Orkney this trip I thought I’d track down some of the less visited stones on the island, and first on the list was the menhir at the aptly named Staney Hill. Taking the minor road off the A965 just before the Maes Howe visitor centre at Tormiston Mill(a right turn if coming from Kirkwall as we were), the road runs right up behind Maes Howe. Not having access to Wideford’s fieldnotes, we carried on up this road passing the Grimeston junction, whilst I kept my eyes peeled for the Stone o’Hindatuin, which soon could be seen in the field to the right. Ellen pulled into a nearby passing place, as there seemed nowhere else to leave the car. The next difficulty then seemed to be the lack of any visible fieldgates. As I’ve often said I don’t feel I’ve had a proper visit to a place unless I can actually touch the stone, I don’t know why it just makes me feel more ‘connected’ with the place, so refusing to be put off by something as trivial as a barbed wire fence, and with no noticeable livestock in the field, I hopped the wire, barely managing to keep the seat of my trousers intact.

Ellen stayed in the car, both in case of having to move it if we had a sudden rush of traffic, and also, having better sense, deciding she’d quite like to keep her clothes intact. Once into the rather large field, I noticed a distant group of cows now glowering at me disinterestedly, as I headed up to the stone which sits on a natural ridge. From here you get a great view, out down to the Loch of Harray, where Stenness is just visible, and the hills of Hoy, still cloud capped rising proud to the south-west. The stone is huge, it must be about 9’ tall. Some stones around the bottom of the menhir look as if they have been packed at the base to pack the stone, and a grassy covering which has covered the stones now makes for an ideal seat, where I write up my fieldnotes.

This is a fine stone, it’s so peaceful up here, even though directly opposite across the road is a house, there’s no-one else around, with only the sounds of the occasional car interrupting the call of the birds. The stone has the usual light dusting of Orcadian sea moss, and seems to gaze towards Hoy like a silent sentinel, just another of Orkney’s many fine stones. On returning to the car we had a number of strange looks from the man living in the house just up the road, who Ellen said had come out of his house three times to suspiciously stare at the car (obviously thinking we were up to no good!) Aside from the slight access difficulties (which I’m sure would be removed if you follow Wideford’s notes!) this stone is definitely worth the visit.

Visited 11th August 2012

We’ve visited Stenness several times already on this trip to Orkney, but on our way back to Kirkwall after a trip to Hoy, the glorious sunshine was too tempting and so we called in at the stones.

The first time you approach the stones the scale of them hits you, along with their amazing tapering shapes. As the afternoon sun casts long shadows the megaliths look as if they could be an art installation or sculpture park, so forward thinking was the selection and placement of the stones. The good weather has brought other tourists out, and the interior of the circle has somewhat of a festival atmosphere as children play at the base of the stones whilst a man gently strums a mandola and couples hand in hand stroll around the circle. It feels joyous and it is.

The heavily denuded remains of the henge around the circle is still visible, and from the centre the hills of Hoy dominate the horizon as I gaze west. When once a full complement of stones stood around the circle you can only imagine the impact this place would have had in the heart of the most sacred area on Orkney. Its just a pity that eejits such as W. Mackay (a ‘ferry-louper’ if ever there was one) did such damage to the site in 1814.

Stenness though is such an iconic site, and normally one of the first places I stop when arriving on Orkney, it’s got special memories for me, and continues to call me back, and I’m sure anyone who visits will feel its call too..

I was quite surprised by how big this stone was, standing prominently by the side of the road, and clearly visible as you continue to walk along Tal-y-Fan from Maen y Bardd. When I first saw it I thought it might be a natural stone, but small chocking stones are clearly visible around the base, and it looks as if a mound has been built up for the stone to stand on.

Cae Coch is also known as Esgid-y-Cawr or the ‘Giant’s shoe’ apparently. The bumbling behemoth having lost its footwear whilst chasing it’s recalcitrant dog (the same beast reputed to been the cause of Ffon y Cawr as well) It’s certainly a nice chunky stone, it must be a good 7’ tall, eminently huggable, and with a fine view looking out down over the Conwy valley.

I like the idea that this and Ffon y Cawr symbolise the male and female aspects of the land, it may just be a romantic pagan notion, but the stones do seem to be carefully chosen to have that suggestive quality!

Visited 26th May 2012

As I walked from the Rhiw youth hostel, where I’d left the car, I kept my eyes peeled for this one on the approach toward Maen y Bardd, but the smaller of the two ‘Greyhound’s Kennels’ is not easy to spot, hunkered into the hillside as it is. Only after reaching the dolmen of Maen y Bardd itself, and spending some time at that lovely place, did I dig out the OS map, and compass in hand headed off to the ENE.

The jumble of stones across the hillside kept drawing my eye, each one seeming to possibly signify the location of the chamber, but putting all my trust in the compass I soon spotted the ‘blasted tree’ a huge hawthorn canted over at an angle which pointed out the chamber.

And what a place it is! A lovely earthfast chamber, seemingly opening into the hillside. I scooted inside, the chamber surprisingly spacious, although low roofed it must stretch back a good 6’. It’s nice and sheltered in here but still light and airy, mossy growths on the inner stones make it seem like the entrance to a subterranean underworld and I spend some time soaking up the atmosphere, and feeling as if I’m embraced by the earth.

Back outside the chamber I try to get an idea of the layout of the site. A few small stones stand outside the chamber, and a vague outline of a mound once covering the chamber can just be discerned, the whole shape of the burial chamber looks to me almost as if it might have been a wedge-shaped tomb. This enigmatic little chamber is certainly a cracker.

Visited 12th May 2012

There are some places you just don’t appreciate in one visit, and for me Dyffryn Ardudwy was one. The first time I was here I was a bit disappointed by the built up surroundings of the dolmens. Nearby houses and the school seemed to hem in the site and, along with a slightly unsympathetic restoration, one of the chambers was littered with cans and other detritus which indicated it was a favoured party spot for local youths. My next visit was on a grey and rainy day, leaden Welsh skies seeming to bleach the colour from the surroundings as I huddled for shelter next to the tree which canopied the chambers. So today’s visit was one I made just because we were passing. I’m so glad we did.

Like Kammer we parked in the small cul-de-sac of Bro Arthur just past the school, and walked up the short path to the twin dolmens. On this lovely sunny day the site is transformed. Dappled sunlight bathes the monument, and bluebells rather than rubbish, dot the site. I clamber onto the nearby wall to get a more elevated shot of the monument and it’s as if I’m seeing it with new eyes.

The two dolmens are of a good size, and I take a bit more time to investigate the chambers, noting the strange marks gouged into one of the portal stones of the western chamber, which I hadn’t seen before. The eastern chamber is larger, but in places is shored up by some ugly brickwork.

The oak tree growing here is wonderful, and whilst Ellen spends some time sketching the site I climb onto a low sloping branch which is just right to recline on, and contemplate the monument. Although Dyffryn Ardudwy is only the decimated skeleton of the monument it once was the stones around the perimeter allow you to get a sense of the size the monument would have been when covered by a mound or cairn material. Dyffryn Ardudwy is an enigmatic site, despite the relatively urban location, and slightly dodgy restoration, it’s not quite like anywhere else, and retains a special feeling, made extra special on this sublime afternoon. I feel like I finally ‘get’ Dyffryn Ardudwy now!

Visited 26th May 2012

Glorious sunny weather today, and after the recent downpours and grim weather I felt I really needed to get out and about.

I’ve been meaning to visit the Tal-y-fan monuments for ages, but never got around to it so today seemed as good a day as any! Maen-y-Bardd is a site I’d wanted to visit for ages, having seen some lovely photographs of it in the past, which made it look as if it was in an area of splendid mountainous isolation.

After a maddeningly slow meander up the A5, with roadworks and tractors reducing progress to a crawl at times, I turned off the B5106 just south of Conwy and headed into the pretty village of Rowen. I’d decided to approach via the Youth Hostel at Rhiw, so taking a right turn in the village after the hotel, and folowing the ominously dead end signed road, the lane started to climb the hill. Soon the road became extremely steep, (quite possibly one of the steepest I’ve ever driven up!) but the car did sterling work and soon I reached the end of the road. At first I thought I’d missed the Youth Hostel, before realising it was in fact the white building to my left where the metalled road ends, so I pulled into their drive, and with a distinct lack of anyone around to ask whether I’d be OK to park there, I made sure I wasn’t blocking any entrances and left the car there hoping for the best.

A short walk along the lane and the first thing I notice is a small standing stone, (one of the Caerhun stones, although I didn’t realise it as such at the time) behind which the unmistakable silhouette of the dolman is visible.

As others have said this is the absolute epitome of a perfectly presented dolman, perched with amazing views over the Afon Tafalog and down the Conwy valley, and currently being used a shelter by a group of shaggy sheep, eager to escape the midday suns heat.

The sheep soon move as I squeeze myself inside, and just let the cares of the world fall away. The poet stone itself is said to grant the gift of inspiration or madness to those who spend the night here, a legend also told in relation to Cadair Idris, where I once spent a cold and windswept night camping near the summit one February. The jury’s still out on whether that expedition inproved my poetic skills, (and I’m sure those who know me don’t reckon that I could get much madder than I already am!) so maybe I should spend a night in Maen-y-Bardd sometime?

Certainly sitting here in the chamber with this view is inspiring, and it’s cool sheltered and peaceful in here, it’s really quite comfortable complete with a ‘pondering stone’ you can sit on to keep you off the earthen floor.

A great start to the Tal-y-Fan explore, if the other sites that line the old Roman road are even half as good I’m in for a great day!

Visited 4th August 2011

Ever since seeing a picture of this place in the papery Modern Antiquarian all those years ago, I’ve been intrigued and captivated by this site, indeed it was the whole reason we chose to come to this part of Sweden (although I’m glad we did as Skane is lovely!). I’d pictured it as being on some far flung remote headland, standing in a tundra-like landscape, the reality of the gentle lush countryside of Skane proving the opposite of my preconceptions. Just off Route 9 to the east of Ystad is the village of Kåserberga and parking at the large and well signposted carpark in the pretty village centre, I was gripped with anticipation as we climbed the steep path up to the cliff top, as I eagerly sought a view of the stones.

On our first visit a thick sea mist clung to the stones, which loomed out at us from the fog like a ghost ship, shadowy figures of visitors flitting amongst the stones only adding to the eerie atmosphere. Despite being perched near the cliff edge the sea wasn’t even visible to us, just the haunting calls of seabirds drifting over the water, it was truly otherworldly.

We returned again a couple of days later, this time in glorious hot Swedish sunshine, and able to take in the fantastic views out over the bright azure Baltic, which almost seems to encircle the site. The sunshine had also drawn out the hordes, Ales Stenar in its magnificence, and as a monument of national importance to Sweden, having the ‘Stonehenge effect’ (albeit without all the horrible commercialisation) of attracting the crowds and being firmly on the tourist trail. After all this is the largest skibssaetning in Sweden, a huge oval 67 meters long and 19 metres wide formed by 59 large boulders of sandstone, and according to Scanian folklore the resting place of the legendary King Ale.

These ‘ship settings’ in Scandinavia are generally regarded as burial monuments, yet no grave has ever been positively identified in the limited area that has been subject to archaeological research at Ales Stenar. If not a grave then, what would such an impressive monument have been built for? Various theories include that it may have been raised to honour a local ruler, or as a show of dominance by a particular King, as it would have been a highly visible landmark from the all along the sea coast. It may even have had an astronomical significance, as the sun sets over the north west tip of the monument at midsummer, rising over the tip of the opposite south easterly stone on midwinters day. A cupmarked boulder amongst the stones also points its way to the midwinter sunrise, which we spotted the other day as the shallow cupmarks had been outlined in chalk.

So now after getting up at 6am this morning I’ve come along to the site to see if I could get a few photos of the skibssaetning without any tourists around, and take in some of the atmosphere of the place when it is a little quieter. We were staying only around twenty minutes drive away along the coast, and being another gloriously sunny morning I was full of anticipation of getting some lovely shots of the empty monument. Things looked good when I arrived, the car park being empty, and no-one visible at the nearby camp site, so on reaching the stones I was most annoyed to find two people wrapped in sleeping bags inside the monument. After my initial fit of pique, (and I can’t complain too loudly, as I’ve slept at ancient monuments myself in the past!) I took to tramping around the stones and setting up the tripod for my camera in the noisiest way possible. Needless to say the campers soon took the hint, but by the time they had packed up their sleeping bags and left a family of early risers from the campsite down the road, along with their two children, arrived to shatter the peace. They didn’t stay long though and so finally I was alone at this amazing place.

Although a lot younger than most of the megalithic sites I’ve visited, as I’m convinced that the evidence points to Ales Stenar having been constructed much later than the Neolithic, it’s lovely to experience the grandeur of the Nordic megalithic culture, and know that it survived on here much later than in the rest of Europe.

On a clear morning like this you can really get a sense of how amazing the location of the monument is. I’m sat inside the stones, looking out over the cliffs at the vivid blue of the sea surrounding me on three sides. Looking away from the sea the gently rolling landscape unfolds before you, the stones that delineate the skibsaetning stretch away, and the high prow and stern stones tower above. You only appreciate how massive this place is when you stand back from it to try and get the whole site in shot. It takes on a whole different atmosphere when you have the place to yourself, and you can feel the true magic of the place, I’m so glad I came here this early.

This place is captivating, and I still can’t believe I’m finally here, alone in a stone boat on the shores of the Baltic, and soaking up the wonders of megalithic Sweden. This is a truly special place, and I hope that some day we will be back!

Visited 11th May 2012

It’s getting a little late in the day now as we’ve already been to Minniglow Hill, and had a poke about in the lovely bookshop at Cromford, but it’s been a good couple of years since I last visited the Grey Ladies, so it seemed rude not to pop by.

We parked up where the road is slightly wider, just down the hill from the farm entrance opposite the stones (the plethora of ‘No Parking’ signs by the farm making it quite clear that the farmer wants no truck with visitors blocking his accessway)

I love Nine Stones Close, it’s one of the best sites in the Peak District, fantasticaly framed against the outcrop of Robin Hood’s stride, the whole area redolent of folktales and myth. The four remaining stones are all lovely, each one unique, from the heavily pockmarked stone, to the deep grooves worn into the tops of the stones by the countless years of falling rain.

Its a shame that only four stones remain (possibly five if you count the poor sad stone pressed into service as a gatepost) but they are all of a good size and satisfyingly chunky, the largest stones in Derbyshire. The nearby tree also fits in well with the circle, and as the sun dips lower long shadows are cast onto the stones.

I didn’t get chance to climb Robin Hood’s Stride today, and I’ve never found the Hermit’s Cave yet, but that only gives me an excuse to come back to this lovely place another day.

Visited 11th May 2012

I’d had my eye on Minninglow Hill for some time, quite literally as I kept noticing its distinctive profile on recent visits to the Peak District. So with the rare combination of a day off work, combined with a rare burst of reasonable (or at least dry) weather it felt like time to make the trip.

I wasn’t sure what access would be like now, and as Ellen tends to get a bit twitchy at the thought of having to trespass I thought the best approach would be via the Midshires Way footpath. We travelled up past Ashbourne, as if heading to Arbor Low, but turned off beforehand onto the A5012 road to Cromford. A couple of miles along this road at the village of Pikehall, a right turn is signposted to a parking spot on the edge of the village where the footpath can be picked up.

At the pleasantly large parking area and picnic spot, the tree topped hill of Minninglow was clearly visible. Setting off along the footpath which ran along the site of an old disused railway line, the open countryside, with Minninglow looming ever larger in front of us, looked green and inviting, and so nice to be here after weeks of grey drizzle making life in town seem even duller than usual.

After crossing a high viaduct, and heading through into the remains of a small quarried area, I was more than pleasantly surprised to see a clearly way marked path up the hill. The signage and gates up the path looked fairly new and substantial, and gave no indication that the concessionary path was likely to be closed any time soon.

So safe in the knowlege that access was not going to be an issue we started walking up the hill. The rocky outcrops and large stones on the upper reaches of the slopes reminded me of the remains of ancient ramparts, and with only the stares of curious sheep for company we entered the gate into the tree enclolsed hill.

Two large megalithic barrows spring immediately into view, huge capstones exposed and showing the size this barrow would once have been. Although reduced in size over the millenia when you stand atop the embankment crowning the hill and look around you get an idea of the huge scale of this burial mound.

You feel so enclosed and sheltered here, the outer circle of trees screening you from the outside world, whilst an inner semi-circle of beeches huddles protectivly around the chambers. We unpacked our picnic and basked in the weak sun, just enjoying the magical atmosphere of the place, and as we eat we spot a hare darting from the cover of the trees into the field beyond.

Soon the cold wind starts to buffet at us and dark clouds glower in from the peaks making it too cold to sit around for much longer. But as other posts have said Minninglow is a fantastic place, and so private, we saw several groups of walkers on the footpath below the hill, but none seemed keen to go slightly out of their way to visit this amazing place, although I suppose that makes it quieter for those of us who like to just come to ancient places to chill out!

It may have taken me years to get around to visiting Minniglow but now I have I’ll certainly be back!

Visited 8th May 2012

One of the joys of the TMA website is discovering lovely places you never knew existed, and after many years of quite regular trips down to Glastonbury and never knowing about these nearby stones until I read about them here, I took this opportunity to pay a visit.

Whilst Ellen trawled the shops in Glastonbury I headed out to Wookey Hole, and following the High Street around the back of the huge car park for the caves, until it became Kennel Batch lane, I continued uphill until I saw the Ebbor Gorge National Trust carpark. Leaving the car there (although the gorge itself is definitely worth a vist, as I had a walk around it on my return to the car) I continued uphill until reaching the second signed public footpath to the left. From the stile into the field I could see the stones to my right.

The two stubby stones are modest in size, but have a fantastic aspect, looking out over the Somerset levels, Glastonbury Tor being particularly prominent. The stones must be a good 50’ apart, and the high meadow in which they stand is a sea of yellow dandelions today.

It’s lovely and peaceful here, with only the rumbling of the occasional tractor or car in the nearby lane, but you are perfectly screened here from the road and feel remote from the cares of the world.

I lay my coat on the damp grass so I can stretch out in the sunshine by the stones and relax. Buzzards cry overhead, and the wind sends clouds scudding across the sky, for me this beats retail therapy any day!

As I doze in the sunshine I’m awoken by a thundering roar as the ground vibrates and a dark shadow passes overhead, startled I look up to see a Hercules aircraft sweep low overhead, probably only a hundred feet above the field, affording me the opportunity to get some great shots of the low flying plane.

It’s been great here, worth it for the views alone, but it does still feel like a magical place, despite the fact that the stones have been messed around with in the past, and one of them is not original. As the great man JC (Julian Cope) might say, it’s a ‘righteous hangout’.

Visited 6th May 2012

For our day trip out on the Beltane bank holiday we were heading up to Alderley Edge, but with the Bridestones being on the way (sort of) and also nicely accesible it seemed rude not to pay them a visit.

It must have been fifteen years since I was last here, shocking really since they are only around thirty miles from home. Parking up on the drive right by the access to the chamber, the first thing that struck me was the peace and quiet. I had distinct memories last time of a continual barking from the manic pack of hounds that lived at the farm next door, but the days of canine cacophony now seem to have passed.

The huge portal orthostats, and overall size of the tomb impress, and everything was a lot neater and tidier than I remember it last, when the chamber was strewn with rubbish, and undergrowth choked the stones. Today though everything is neat and tidy and lovely, not a scrap of rubbish to be found, and apart from the slight incursion of the rhodedendrons, which are in need of a prune, the site seems much better looked after than before.

The sun is out, but chill winds sweep clouds across the horizon as I sit in the chamber writing my notes. As I’m writing I hear voices as a pair of walkers sidle up to the stones. As they talk about how the stones were built by ‘Druids’ for sacrificial rites, I feel compelled to give them a brief history lesson on the Beaker peoples and the actual purpose of the site. They thanked me for the information (although I’m sure I could bore for England on matters megalithic!) and we are left alone again at the stones.

It has been lovely to revisit this place, which has been even better than my memories of it, I certainly won’t be waiting another fifteen years to come back, in fact the next warm and sunny weekend we get I think this might be the perfect place for a picnic!