ocifant

I’m not normally one for churches (I tend to burst into flames!), but I couldn’t pass this one up.

Therer’s a delightful old wooden ‘turn’-stile into the field containing the church, which is contained in the middle of a field.

As juamei says, there’s a trapdoor to the right inside the church proper, and a sarsen can be seen here. There’s what looks like a drill hole, at least 6 inches deep into the stone, and the end nearest the door looks as if it’s been sheared at some point – very flat and angular. Sadly, the other trapdoor cannot be opened due to staging being constructed over it – I’ll try writing to the church conservation people to find out why.

It was a very peaceful and cool place to rest on a warm day though. And there are information leaflets available about the church (which don’t mention the sarsens at all).

Thanks to a friendly local, we had little difficulty in locating the ‘car park’, and the walk up the hill didn’t seem that far either.

First view is amazing as you come to the stile and realise it’s just there in front of you!

I had remembered my torch, and crawled inside, but found the external light was sufficient to see what I was doing. But, being a wuss in confined spaces, I didn’t go all the way in – just past the first side chambers was far enough for me to explore.

I tried a couple of basic chants to test the acoustics before I left, but found that the sound was just absorbed by the stones (the ‘eggbox’ effect).

Sitting outside and facing the entrance I noticed that the hills behind the barrow seem to surround and ‘cuddle’ the barrow itself. Has anyone else noticed this, or is it just my imagination? I was reticent to leave, but with Mikki waiting down below, I reluctantly returned to the car.

Approaching from the East, Lanhill Farm is on the left. Shortly after this, there is a pull in to a gate for a field, with a footpath sign present. I managed to pull off the road, out of harm’s way here.

Instead of doing the intelligent thing and taking the footpath, I walked along the road until I saw the barrow through the trees, then navigated the knee high nettles and jumped over the fence.

The barrow was an absolute delight, covered in buttercups. No livestock in sight. It certainly pays to circumnavigate such things as I wouldn’t have known about the chamber on the southern side if I hadn’t. Taking some photos, I had the fright of my life when I nearly stepped on a pheasant resting in the long grass. It took off like a rocket as I stepped backwards, framing a shot.

Looking in the chamber, some remedial work has obviously been carried out, as iron girders are holding parts of the roof in place.

A nice barrow, in a pleasant setting, on a glorious day.

I’d failed to find this site on a couple of previous occasions, and had been told it’s tricky to find, but strangely went straight to the stone this time round with no problems whatsoever.

From the A229 southbound, take the slip road immediately after the Shell garage, and park. Walk back toward the garage, and follow the path round to the right. There is a bridge across the railway line, the stone is less than 100 yards up the footpath on the left.

I was so angry after visiting this, the last stop of the day. Some idiots had set a camp fire within about 8 feet of the stones (see picture). The ashes were cold, but didn’t look as if they’d been rained on, so were obviously recent and fresh. In addition, one of the rails of the surrounding fence had been broken, presumably during the camp’s high spirits.

On the positive side, I learned something new. This was originally though to be the remnants of a stone circle, as shown by a plaque at the base of the terrace.

Mentioned in Dyer’s “Discovering Prehistoric England” as “a late Iron Age, univallate hillfort of irregular shape and about 10 hectares in extent” .

We drove right by it, according to the map, but couldn’t see much at all through the trees.

What a place! The road leading up to the track is a normal seaside town suburban road. Bungalows and terraced houses with clipped front lawns and twitching net curtains. All very nice and Stepford.

The track leads up past some allotments, and then the fun starts.

Most of us carry a plastic bag to put rubbish in when we visit sites. I think this place would need a fleet of dumper trucks. In a walk of less than 500 yards, I saw 2 mattresses, an armchair, 3 large gas canisters and countless bags of assorted household refuse. I seriously thought I’d strayed onto the council tip at one point, and if it weren’t for the GPS telling me I was getting close, I’d have given up.

Very very sad. I’d planned to continue on to look at Thunder Barrow, but was so depressed by what I’d seen when I reached the stone, I turned back to the car.

Just around the corner from the village church, this was idyllic on a sunny Sunday morning. Villagers were cutting the lawn and gossiping over the hedge, giving a wonderful picture of rural village life.

The stone sits next to a memorial oak on a small green at a junction off the main High Street through the village. The information sign could do with a good clean (see photo), and the stone looks as if it’s had a bit knocked off the top. It looks for all the world like a piece of modern sculpture in its shape. Interesting texture and well worth seeing if you’re in the area.

Popped along to take a look at this today, and also its continuation in St Albans, Beech Bottom Dyke.

It’s an impressive defensive ditch, but I’d be inclined to just walk along to the end and attack at that point!

Of course, it’s very overgrown now, with bluebells in abundance, as well as the usual detritus of 21st century living: broken cycles, botles, syringes etc. Apart from that, it’d be a nice short woodland walk alongside the housing estate.

This earthwork is in a poor condition, and very overgrown but there is a walkway along the top from which the depth of the original dyke can be appreciated. The sides are very sheer in places, and seem to drop away to a depth of around 50-60 feet.

The earthwork is thought to have originally joined up with the Devil’s Dyke to create a defensive earthwork running from the River Lea to the River Ver.

I found the best viewpoint was from the alleyway running between the houses on Beech Road, near the junction with Marshall Avenue.

Esso is now Texaco.

This didn’t feel old. It seemed out of place, like those stones that are used as garden ornaments in council estates to give them some ‘character’. Lifeless and lost.

As Ironman says, easy to find, and there’s a huge layby less than 100 yards away. Just follow the signpost(s).

The only good thing about this site now is that it’s a bit of a haven for wild flowers, being covered in the same specieis that I saw at Hetty Peglers Tump the other week. No idea what they are – I’m crap at botanical identification.

I agree with Treaclechops – let’s bury Gloucester Cathedral in case it gets vandalised!

10th May.

I get the feeling this is a site you need to visit alone in order to get the real sense of why it’s here as opposed to somewhere else. Boy, did I pick the wrong day! It was like Picadilly Circus up there (and living in London, I should know!)

Obviously a popular site, there was a large group of walkers enjoying their lunch when I arrived. The sudden rain shower didn’t seem to put them off, they just carried on munching on their sandwiches. Obvioulsy a British group :-)

Consequently it was difficult for me to gauge the site. I took a look in each of the chambers, and was upset by the detritus left there by previous visitors (see photo). Interesting to note the plastic meshing peeking through the mound, there’s obviously been a lot of restoration work done here. Also interesting was the possibility of a hidden cavity, spotted on the SW side – it may just have been slippage of the mound, but some brickwork was seen under the grass, and there was a gap in the brickwork – difficult to discern whether this was original or part of the restoration work.

With no sign of the walkers moving on, and Mikki waiting patiently in the car below I took my leave, not really satisfied that I’d ‘met’ this site properly yet.

Marked on the OS map, we spotted this as we were passing.

Sadly, there’s not much to see here now at all. There’s a slight mound above the level of the field (6 or so inches), but unless you were specifically looking you’d never know it.

A piece of antler was found during the 1979-82 excavation of the North Barrow.

(Added to save other people time and bother looking...)

Looking for the Goose Stone, I found this fort at the same map reference, so I’ve added it as a separate entry.

The ‘fort’ consists of a round bank, 7-8 feet high with two entrances (roughly NW & SE), and is currently being used as a paddock, but a public footpath passes through the fort, so access is no problem.

(I didn’t find the Goose Stone).

I travelled down after reading the reviews, looking forward to seeing the site, which didn’t disappoint.

Although the church has somewhat taken over the site, the fact that it’s also in ruins just added to the atmosphere at the site, suggesting that no belief is constant...

I’d expected to see the two magnificent yews flanking an entrance from the entries here, but the placement of the trees is more in line with the church than the henge, which is unbroken by the trees (see photo)

Dropped by the Tor on our way home, and were surprised to see the tower swathed in scaffolding (see photo). It seems the tower is undergoing renovation and repointing.

Baza pointed out the following link that mentions the work:

I didn’t check for alignments when I was there, but I suspect there may be a possibility of a line up with a ‘sleeping figure’ in the hill to the south. I took a picture at the time, I’ll have to dig it out and check.

Has anyone else noticed or mentioned this?

What a wonderful site. Majestically ancient and mysterious, with a couple of resident horses who didn’t pay me any attention whatsoever.

I guess we’re lucky that the Victorians didn’t take all the stone. It’s still possible to make out a couple of the chambers from the stone peeking through the earth, although they’re covered in moss and I would guess will be impossible to see in high summer.

I loved this site, and will treasure the memory of it for a long time to come.

Like Rhiannon, it was raining when we arrived here, but luckily it was only another brief (though heavy) shower. We’d parked right by the gate to the field, by the footpath sign and I donned my waterproofs for the first time this year for the short trip across the field to the stones which were easily visible from the car.

I’ve never seen so many dandelions in one field before. I also have to say I’ve never seen so much dung in one field before either. And so varied in colour, texture and consistency! Keeping my head down to check my path, essential in these conditions, I progressed carefully to the stones.

The wind must have been in the right direction, as although the M4 was clearly visible, there was no traffic noise to be heard, even when the rain finally stopped.

There’s not much left of the original mound now – it’s probably less than a foot or so high from the rest of the field, but easily discernable. The landowner had stacked up a lot of brushwood at one end, and the stones themselves had quite a bit of undergrowth on and around them.

What we have here are two uprights, and what looks like a collapsed capstone leaning against them. There is indeed a ‘bite’ out of the lower end of the capstone – see the photos. It reminded me very much of the hole in the capstone of somewhere like Trevethy Quoit, but cut out to the edge of the stone.. a sad and dilapidated site holding only memories of it’s previous splendour.

...and I couldn’t find the wheelbarrow....

Incredible stones! So peaceful, despite being so close to the road, an oasis of calm.

As is my wont, I laid hands on the stones, and it was only later that I noticed my hand had been dyed bright green by the lichen which was rampant on the main stone.

An interesting site, if only for the lack of features. What we have here is a square embanked enclosure, approx 200 yards on a side, with (entrance?) gaps at the corners on the eastern side. I didn’t enter the site itself – there are no information signs and the gates to adjoining fields were locked – although the wall is easily surmountable as a section is being repaired completely out of keeping by the application of a slab of flat concrete on top rather than drystone.

The enclosure commands excellent cross-country views to the south and east, but the ground rises to the north obstructing the view in that direction.

Passed by this way yesterday, totally unplanned so no camera etc.

I was struck by how different the site looked with the undergrowth at it’s lowest point. Last time I was here, the trees and hedges were in full bloom, and the stones couldn’t be seen from the road at all. Yesterday, the circle could be seen ‘properly’ in its setting. A much more pleasurable experience.

I couldn’t get access from the A303 – it seems to be on private land.

Sorry, but despite their size these seemed to me to be just an ‘attraction’ for the pub. No life, or sense of ‘place’ at all…

Such a large site, it’s difficult to get a proper perspective – at least at Avebury you can climb a bank and see much of the circle laid out in front of you.

What I got here was a feeling of a large circle for ‘proper’ ritual, accompanied by a ‘training’ circle for the neophytes. No idea if this is how it was actually used, just a strong feeling I got.

It seemed to me too that the stones were made of the same rock as at the Rollrights – all eaten away and crumbly.

I approached from Trehyllys Farm – follow the signs to Great Bosullow and Chun Castle from Bosullow Common (the Lanyon road). Were it not for the GPS, I’d have taken a wrong turn at the farm – turn right at the farm buildings then head for the top left corner of the field for the shortest route to the top via a very narrow track bordered by chest high gorse. I wouldn’t want to tackle this route in high summer!

Having reached the castle at the summit, the view was well worth the climb. I entered the castle via the gateway, and turning round, caught my first view of the quoit.
I don’t think I’ve ever fallen so completely in love with a site as I did with the quoit. It’s totally delightful, but try as I might, I couldn’t squeeze through the entrance to sit inside. The old guys were obviously much slimmer than me. Looking around, it’s difficult to imagine how harsh life must have been back then, as the site is so isolated. I couldn’t help wondering what else is waiting to be discovered under all the gorse and bracken up on the hill. I’ll definitely be back here soon.

Back at the castle, I found the cup-marked stones and what looked like a carved stone chair. I’m not certain I’d want to drink from the well though…

Yay! I get to write the first notes for this site! Coming from the East, the stones are easy to find. Having passed the Jamaica Inn, continue west on the A30 to the end of the dual carriageway. Opposite a left hand turn to Temple, turn right (signposted St Brewards). Pass over the cattle grid and continue along the single-track road for about half a mile. At the crossroads (signposted Treswigga), turn right onto a farm track. The stones are on the left about a quarter of a mile along.

The earlier rain having stopped, the wind was blowing a gale, and the telephone wires which run close to the stones were really singing, giving an eerie feel to the site. Each of the stones was in its own small pool of water, like so many islands, having obviously been used as rubbing stones by the local ponies.

The circle consists of 7 uprights with a few recumbent/fallen stones, and a small centre stone. A cist lies just outside the circle to the southwest.

Bad news I’m afraid. This ‘sexy stone’ is no more. I passed here today (I’ll post a fuller weblog on my return home next week), and the Gun Rith menhir is down.

I wondered why I couldn’t see it from the Merry Maidens, and it was only when I went into the field that I realised the stone was down. It’s fallen across the cart tracks into the adjoining field, so no doubt the farmer will be moving it soon. I’ve tried to get a message to Andy Norfolk in the hope that the restoration can be done sensitively.

I’ve taken a few photos of the fallen stone, but can’t upload them on this connection. More to follow next week.... ...Pictures now uploaded, and the stone hadn’t yet been moved when I paid a return visit a couple of days later.

The book states that this is in the middle of a housing estate, and so it proved to be. There were a couple of burnt out motor vehicles and so much urban rubbish that archeaologists of the future will truly have a ‘field day’ here...

The source of the Lea is trapped in a concrete and steelwork cage, as mentioned by Julian. It’s very difficult to make out the layout of the bank itself from the lea-side. The course of the bank is more obvious from the road, but looks just like the soundproofing embankments so loved of modern planners. The only difference between the bank and its modern equivalent is that there are no houses behind it.

Wind. Lots of it. The Downs in February are cold. The gliders were out in force, swooping overhead like circling hawks. The wind was biting, taking my breath away, yet standing among the barrows, all seemed quiet.

Magnificent views to the north, and to the west is a slightly higher ridge. If the landscape were unchanged, I can’t help feeling that the higher ridge would have provided a better site/sight for the barrows, being in view of Ivinghoe Beacon across the valley.

Despite the signs exhorting no damage, the barrows all look as though bikers have been using them for jumps, each barrow having a track right across its top.

Regarding Kammer’s comments re parking, I’d suggest following the sign to the Kit’s Coty Brasserie (drop down off the A229, past the pub then immediate right (back to the A229) then immediate right again). Small car park on the crest. Walk the rest of the road, then cross the road at the junction and follow the steps down straight to Kit’s Coty. No good for the Countless Stones though, unless you enjoy a walk.

This was a repeat visit after my New Year’s Day trip which resulted in corrupted photos (see my entry for the Chestnuts. I think I must be fated as, having checked 3 sets of batteries the previous night, 2 sets were dead when I got there! Changing camera batteries in the rain is not a pleasant experience...

Anyway, the stones seemed very sad, sitting alone on the edge of the field, caged as they are. There was a lot more site damage compared to my visit on the 1st. Lots of chalked graffitti – childishly scrawled pentagrams probably reflecting the mental age of the idiots who do this kind of thing. Some flowers (memorial wreaths) had been left outside the railings – easily moved, but they seemed very fresh so I left them as they were. The worst damage was at the ‘back’, against one of the uprights where it looked as if someone had tried to dig a small pit against the base of the stone.

I suppose, trying to be reasonable, this damage is minor compared to the 19c names and dates carved into the stones, and to the much more major damage of having had the full burial mound removed which left the uncovered stones as they can be seen today. For all that, I wish these idiots would just leave them as they are, to be enjoyed.

Have to agree with the other comments here. A very undignified way for the Stone to be treated. People in the lunchtime rush looked at me as if I were mad, taking photos of a wall of a bank! I’m sure none of them had ever looked to see what was there...

The Stone seemed to be screaming to be let free. Given the planning permission mentioned in the News Article last year, it looks as if its wish may be granted, but I couldn’t see any signs or notices in place, so maybe they’ve put the plans back. Does anyone have a better notion of timing for the demolition?

I’ll have to make sure I get down here a bit more regularly in the lunch hour, now I know exactly where it is, to make sure the Stone isn’t forgotten and doesn’t get lonely, trapped in its cage.

Visited on New Year’s Day, purely on the off-chance. Luckily, the friendly woman who owns the house was taking her dog for a walk, and kindly offered to let me see the stones.

I thought it was funny that she had to pop in and get her crib sheet, but the potted talk she gave was very interesting and informative. I couldn’t ‘see’ the formation until it was explained, then all became clear.

I did the dowsing bit, but wished I hadn’t once I got home, as the card in my digital camera had been corrupted, and my pictures of the day’s visit (including the Cotys) were irretrievable. Ah well, I’ll just have to go down again at some point :-) Must remember to make an appointment next time...

Made my first visit to the Ladies last weekend. And what a weekend! Continuous rain and heavy mist/low cloud made for a magical visit.

Like a fool, I got the approach wrong and started out from the base camp at the base of the quarry. You have to admire the protesters, living in those conditions! The climb was extremely muddy and quite difficult, but I eventually made it to the top, soaked to the skin.

Due to the weather I couldn’t stay as long as I wanted, nor could I explore the rest of the moor, but I took some photos and made it back to the car safely.

From what I could see (shrouded in the mist), this is a wonderful site, quite breathtaking in it’s splendour. I’d read quite a bit about the restoration work to be undertaken and was prepared to be disappointed, but the conditions I saw it in were optimal, and the site was simply awe inspiring. Maybe I’ll have to visit in fine weather to be disappointed?