Visited 2nd August 2003: Ever since I first read about them, I’ve been fascinated by these stones, and at last I’ve got to visiting them. It’s no secret that they’re big, but you have to stand next to them to get a real idea of just how big. They’re much larger than anything else in the area, and standing next to them you can’t help wondering about everything that’s been lost here. This is an excellent place. I’ll definately be back.
Kammer
Visited 2nd August 2003: Based on my experiences working on another estate, I decided we could just brazen it out, so long as we were confident and polite. We drove up the drive in our clapped out Fiat Uno, and parked behind the trees near the house. I left the others in the car (Lou doesn’t share my taste for this sort of thing) and strolled up to the chamber.
The chamber is beautifully proportioned. You can really see why some people mistook it for a folly. I didn’t go inside, because that would have looked a bit weird (not in keeping with my “I’m supposed to be here” persona). I did my best to look academic, and strolled around the taking it all in.
On my way back to he car I nodded and smiled to a National Trust bloke in a minibus. He looked at me a bit strangely, then grinned back and waved. All the cloak and dagger stuff is fun, but there really should be better access to this site. It’s a darned sight more important than the house. Even carefully controlled access on a regular basis would be better than the current situation.
Visited 25th July 2003: On my way to my brother’s Stag do, I detoured into Welshpool to find Maen Llog. At first I got the wrong church, and when I eventually found St. Mary’s Church, parking turned out to be a bit tricky. One of the two gates into the churchyard was locked, but once I’d found a way in the stone was obvious.
Maen Llog is very polished, presumably by people standing on it for various reasons, over the centuries. It looks rather inconsequential, standing as it does among the gravestones. Worth a visit if you’re in the vicinity, if only because of the numerous rituals attributed to it.
Visited 17th July 2003: After successfully finding Hoyle’s Mouth Cave I decided that I had time to find it’s neighbour, Little Hoyle Cave, before the coach left Tenby. I walked up the road, and over an enormous cattle grid onto the private driveway that leads to the Golf Course.
The cave is on private land, so strictly speaking there’s no public access without permission. I found that a cheery wave seemed to work whenever someone drove past, and after a bit of walking (and some waving) I took the plunge and followed the GPS into the forest. It really was a nightmare in there, with brambles and stinging nettles up to head level. Progress was slow, and I got it wrong quite a few times before I found the cave. I got stung to bits, and it wasn’t nice. Don’t try this in the summer!
The cave isn’t all that far from the drive, but impossible to see until you’re right up next to it. As the name suggests, it’s smaller than Hoyle’s Mouth, with a lower, rounder area inside. Although I had no torch, I could go to the back of the cave because the roof has fallen, letting enough sunlight in to see by. This time I really did feel like I was in a place where very few people go. I didn’t stop for long for fear of getting left behind, which was a good job because it took longer to get out of the forest than it had to get in.
Visited 17th July 2003: I was supposed to be on a work jolly to Caldey Island, but when we arrived in Tenby we found that boats weren’t sailing (no explanation). After a few hours in the pub, I made my excuses and walked south west out of town to find Hoyle’s Mouth Cave and Little Hoyle Cave.
First off, I’d recommend against visiting either of these sites in the summer, because the foliage is thick, and you will get stung by stinging nettles! There’s no signposting to Hoyle’s Mouth Cave, so a GPS is handy (even then you’ll be guessing). There are a lot of tracks through the woodland, and eventually I hit upon one that went up to the cave.
I don’t usually go for pre-Neolithic sites, but circumstances brought me here, and it was pleasantly surprising. I hadn’t brought a torch with me, so I didn’t venture too far into the cave. Sitting in the entrance looking out over the damp vegetation that I’d struggled up through, I felt rather sublime. The peace and quiet was lovely. The cave is obviously used by local kids, because there were the remains of a camp fire in the entrance. What a great den!
Visited 16th July 2003: For a bit of lunchtime exercise I went to see if I could find the crop marks to the north of Cerrig Llwydion, the remains of a possible henge (SN624838). I had it on good authority that they were visible from the train embankment, but managed to spot nothing. As a consolation prize I went to see the westerly of the two standing stones (SN62508354).
Visited 13th July 2003: We cheated to get to this one, driving up the forestry tracks from further down the valley (not recommended). The sensible way to reach this stone would be on foot from the peak of Pumlumon. Carreg Wen is on the edge of the forestry plantation to the east of Pumlumon, close to the source of the River Severn. At 610 metres above sea level it’s the highest stone in the area. Although very close to the edge of the forest, the stone is surrounded on three sides by trees like some sort of hidden woodland cul-de-sac.
I had both the boys with me, and the weather was scorching. As soon as we arrived, killer flies attacked, so we kept the pace up. The intense sunshine made it hard to look at the stone, because it’s made of a brilliant quartz. Near the stone was the remains of a camp fire, and at the foot of the stone I found entwined orange and purple ribbons (non-biodegradable) so I knew quite early on that the spot isn’t as obscure as it feels. After spending quite a while taking it all in I spotted naturally formed recesses in the stone that had been used to deposit coins. Most of these had small quartz stones placed in them to block them up.
The flies and heat got to us all in the end, and we left in quite a hurry. I was genuinely surprised to find such a beautiful megalith here. On local standards, it’s quite a big’n. Needless to say I was two ribbons, and several copper coins wealthier by the time we left (lucky me!).
The Mynydd March stone, along with it’s neighbours Buwch a’r Llo, has the easiest access of any standing stone in north Ceredigion. It’s right next to the road, and there’s no boundary fence.
The stone has two distinctive cracks running diagonal across it, presumably caused by weathering. From some angles it looks very strange, like some sort of a half peeled megalithic fruit. Of the three stones on the verge of the road, Mynydd March is the smallest and the easiest to miss as you drive past.
Visited 21st June 2003: This was the successful last megalithic visit of our Solstice. I only persuaded Louise to let me look for this stone by promising her a cup of tea in bed the following morning! Needless to say, everyone else stayed in the car while a yomped across the field to the stone.
By this time my hay fever was really kicking in, and it was getting tricky to focus my eyes, let alone the camera. This little stone was worth a bit of suffering for though. Despite it’s relatively small size compared to the Four Stones it’s very reminiscent of them. I wonder whether Hindwell Stone looked something like this when it was standing.
Visited 21st June 2003: My first visit to the Four Stones left me under-impressed. I got the feeling that the stones were standing in isolation from their surroundings.
Second time round it all felt like it made a bit more sense (whatever that means). I took greater care to look at the hills framing the plateau where the Four Stones stand, and spotted a distinctive distant hill that is obscured by a large tree near the stones (I think this is Burfa Camp).
I also found the three cupmarks that I’d failed to look for on my first visit.
Visited 21st June 2003: After the Solstice sunrise at Stanton Drew and a big breakfast at Little Chef, we headed out to find Stoney Littleton. Initially we tried approaching from the direction of Wellow, but we soon realised that there was nothing resembling a car park to the north east o the site. It’s worth noting that there’s no signposting to Stoney Littleton from the direction of Wellow.
We found the tiny lane from Wellow to the Stoney Littleton car park, and on the way got some exciting glimpses of the long barrow from the road. We parking up, crossed the picturesque little stream, and headed off up the hill. The sun was out, and after our greasy breakfast, spirits were high. The moment where we suddenly reached the barrow (as described by those who came before us) was great. Once we were over the last stile, William shot off along the length of the barrow and we all explored. Apart from half a plastic bottle full of rotting flowers (an offering?) the site looked beautiful in the sunshine, with patches of flowering clover sprinkled around it.
William had his torch, and he headed straight into the chamber. At first Lou and I took it in turns to look after Alfie while the other one went inside, but in the end I gave up and I took Alfie in with me. He seemed to enjoy it, crawling around getting nice and dirty. What a great place for kids! Lou speculated that the different shapes of the chamber might represent different parts of the female anatomy. The first part is the vagina, and where the passage becomes narrow it’s the cervix. The tallest part of the passage, where I could just about stand up, is the womb. What a special place this is!
Visited 21st June: After our early start to observe the Solstice, and visiting the well known Stanton Drew sites, we were all ready for breakfast. Before we left the area I insisted on seeing Hauteville’s Quoit, so the others stayed in the car while I went to the farm (called Quoit Farm) to ask about the stone.
As soon as I went through the farmyard gate, a sheep dog starting barking at me from the direction of the farmhouse. Luckily there was a woman hanging up washing in the garden, so I didn’t have to get past the dog to knock on the farmhouse door. She was very friendly, and gave me directions to the stone, warning me that there wasn’t much to see.
The stone lies to the east of the farm buildings, and there certainly isn’t much to see. Where Hauteville’s Quoit once stood, there’s now only a small amount of stone visible above the soil. It’s hard to imagine this insignificant piece of rock as a large standing stone. It sits in the shadow of a tree, almost part of the hedgerow. Surely it’s been chipped away at over the years for building material. If not, there must be a lot of stone under the ground.
Despite its size, I’m glad I made the effort to see it. With so little left to look at, you’ll need to use a lot of imagination (and possibly take some dog biscuits) if you visit Hauteville’s Quoit.
Visited 21st June 2003: As our Solstice morning progressed I dragged everyone up to see the Cove, promising William that we’d have breakfast afterwards (I neglected to mention Hautevilles Quoit at this stage).
I’ve got to disagree with Ocifant’s impression of the Cove. I think there is something special about these stones, and it’s made all the more remarkable by the fact they’re in a pub garden. Obviously the garden was deserted when we visited, so it was relatively quiet, but I’ve been there before when it was crowded and there was still a zing to the place then. On this occasion our visit was brief because we were all hungry and tired, but we’ll be back as soon as possible (during opening hours).
These megaliths must have contributed to the building of the church on it’s current site, between them and the South West Circle. Their part in the wedding legend also suggests that they have been considered as important elements in Stanton Drew group for a considerable time. The fact that’s they’ve ended up in the garden of a pub is perhaps not wholly inappropriate, because in this way they remain part of the day to day life of the village in a way that the other megaliths don’t.
Visited 21st June 2003: We’ve been to Stanton Drew a few times before, but this was my first visit to the South West Circle. We were all a bit tired after watching the Solstice sunrise, but I persuaded Lou and William that it was worth seeing how close we could get to this circle.
We walked from the Great Circle, back into the village, then headed out of the village again on the public footpath that I’d seen on the map (the map that I’d cunningly left in the car). When we got to the right sort of place I realised that there was good access from the path into the field where the circle lies, through a wooden kissing gate. It all looked very much as if we were allowed to be there, which I gather didn’t used to be the case.
The circle looks a bit shabby compared to it’s neighbours. All the stones are fallen, and the grass around the was either under-grazed or badly cut. Hardly surprising given the obscurity of this circle in comparison to the others. There were signs that other people had been there already that morning (offerings on the stones), but on the whole it looks like not many people visit this place. The quiet was pleasing, but we were all so tired and hungry that breakfast and a cup of coffee lured us away.
Visited 21st June 2003: Having spent a short hot night in central Bristol we drove to Stanton Drew in the early hours, with William tired and bemused in the back of the car (Alfie is used to waking up at silly times in the morning). We nearly didn’t make it, because the Police had closed the A37 because of a serious motorbike crash.
We got to the stones just as a small group of Druids arrived (presumably the lazy ones who couldn’t get up on time). We crossed the Great Circle behind the tardy Druids joined a small group of their pals, standing in the middle of the North East Circle. The Druids started invoking the Sun, and I took the opportunity to explain to William what a Druid is (“you know how Grandma goes to church...“). These were noisy Druids (are they all like that?) so we sidled away and found a quiet spot next to one of the avenue stones. From here we watched the dawn, with a scattering of other people (maybe thirty) around us doing the same.
The sky was a beautiful wash of colours for a while, with purple and pink and blue and orange shades mixing together. Then it slowly brightened, becoming more bland and less beautiful. The Druids seemed a bit restless, and said a few more things to encourage the sun to rise. This must have worked, because it did. Through the trees to the west it lit us up, and lit the stones up. The freshness of the morning was suddenly right in our faces, and there were ripples of content from everyone there.
After a while people began dispersing. The Druids gathered under a nearby tree and made even more noise. Louise distributed chocolate and we wondered around the stones. This was our first celebration of the Summer Solstice for 5 years, and it was well worth the effort. I don’t think we’ll miss it again in a hurry.
Visited 20th June 2003: I found the stone more tricky to find than I’d expected. From the A40 it was shielded by trees, and some patchy map reading on my part meant we over-shot the turning. There’s parking next to the old training camp reception building (a strange 1960s construction) and from here you can hop over the service road to the stone. There were a couple of army vehicles way off at the end of the avenue, behind a typical MOD fence, but it does look like this camp is closed.
The Growing Stone (aka the Cwrt y Gollen Monolith) is surrounded by cobbles, and the remains of a wooden rail are still partially intact on one side of it. Now it looks a bit shabby, but I’d imagine the MOD were very pleased with it when the work was done (nice and orderly). In the Modern Antiquarian book Julian describes removing a rusty sign from the stone, and I could make out the place where this used to be fixed.
The monolith is made from a very large piece of sandstone (apparently 4.17 metres high) and has the strangest strata running along it’s length. You can see why people thought it had popped out of the ground. As with Gwernvale, the A40 intrudes on the site, but at least the trees give it some degree of separation from the traffic.
Visited 20th June 2003: We stopped off at Garn Goch on our way to Bristol, and it turned out to be a bit of a coup because William was convinced we’d stopped so he could try out the playground. It was lunchtime, so we took the opportunity to have something to eat, let Will stretch his legs and investigate Garn Goch.
Next to the site is a small information plaque, that says:
This is a burial mound probably of Neolithic date (about 4000 – 2500 BC) containing a stone chamber with a capstone.I’ve seen the site described in a variety of ways, including chambered cairn, chambered long barrow or just cairn. Child and Nash describe it as, “a ‘hybrid’ Severn-Cotswold tomb, similar to Gwernvale“. The remaining mound is almost circular in plan, looking more like a round barrow than a long barrow, but this may be because of damage to the tomb from archaeologists and tree roots over the years.
Although there’s less stone to be seen here than at Gwernvale, the tomb feels marginally less defiled. Despite the playground and adjoining football pitch, this is a pleasant spot. How many Neolithic sites of this calibre can boast their own park bench and public toilets?
Visited 5th June 2003: To round off a half day of combined child care and megalith hunting, I stopped at IGER to see if I could get permission to see one of the two Cerrig Llwydion. There was a woman working in the same field as the eastern stone, so I wondered in with Alfie on my back and tried to look harmless. She turned out to be very friendly, and said she didn’t think it would be a problem for us to go and take a closer look at the stone.
It was weird being up close to something so familiar from a distance. The packing stones around the base are very striking, but probably date back to the excavation in 1986. The ploughed down round barrow was surprisingly easy to spot from the stone. We were a bit short of time, so I decided not to ask about seeing the western stone (something to save until another time).
Visited 15th June 2003: Cerrig Arthur isn’t far from Sylfaen Farm (marked on the Landranger). The tarmac finishes at the farm, but not the road, which becomes a dirt track with a vehicular right of way. This means you can drive on past the farm and park just before the first gateway. From here you need to walk on through the gateway, then approximately north west up the hill to the circle.
The three largest stones at Cerrig Arthur are part of some sort of megalithic construction in the centre of the circle. The remaining stones that make up the circle itself are relatively small. The site is often described as an embanked stone circle because it sits on a little artificial shelf cut out of the hillside. Interestingly Cerrig Arthur is another site where public footpaths converge. Indicating that it’s been a significant landmark for centuries. We were really lucky with the weather. In fact it was extremely hot and sunny (hence the silly hats) and the mountains to the south looked great. It was a beautiful place to find after a long drive.
When we got back to the car we found it only had two functional gears! Luckily these were 3rd and 4th, so I got us into Barmouth for some time on the beach, then limped the poor old car all the way home, thrashing the clutch as I went.
Visited 15th June 2003: Julian mentions this site in the Modern Antiquarian book, and includes a photo of Kendric’s Stone. This was my second attempt to see the stone (the first time there was a service going on). We found the stone at the opposite end of the church to the altar, next to a tiny wooden vestry. It has a plaque next to it, and when we visited there was some sort of dried grass propped up against it. This stone really doesn’t look very prehistoric, and it does look heavily worked.
The other point of interest at this site is the raised circular churchyard that surrounds Llanelltyd Church. It’s sheltered by trees, and has a wall running around most of it. At the back of the church some buildings are built up against the churchyard, so that you could walk onto their roofs from ground level. It must be weird sitting in a one of these buildings, knowing that there are human remains just on the other side of your wall! All in all it’s a pleasant place to visit, but I have yet to be convinced that this type of churchyard necessarily has a prehistoric link.
Visited 13th June 2003: It was a spectacularly sunny day, so I thought I’d peg it up Pendinas during my lunch hour. My objectives were to find and photograph the round barrow and hut circles within the defences of the fort, then find my mate who was working somewhere on the hill clearing bracken.
I parked at the end of the footpath that approaches the fort from the north, and got to the top in less than 20 minutes. Once I’d caught my breath in the shadow of the Wellington Monument, I headed off to the south west to try and find my barrow and hut circles. The latter were easy to spot, but it turns out they’re not easy to photograph (nothing I took was worth posting up). Then I spotted what I’m pretty sure is the round barrow.
By this time I was running out of lunch hour, so I headed back down the hill, and with some help from a local woman who was walking her dog, managed to track down my mate. He’d hidden away at he top of the Rope Walk Fields, and was wielding a scythe very professionally. We had a few minutes to chat, then both of us had to get back to work.
Visited 5th June 2003: I asked permission to park at Caer-Arglwyddes, the farmhouse to the north west of the circle (the circle is on a public footpath so no need to ask about access). With Alfie in the baby back-pack I headed off up in approximately the right direction for the circle.
The weather was all over the place. It had been raining when I left the car, and during the walk up the hill it had cycled through a variety of conditions. The grid reference I used to get to this site is probably too far south because I got to the circle much quicker than I’d bargained for (my GPS gave me SN6965491183). The stones are very low to the ground, so it was largely luck that I found them. Up by the circle the sun came and went, and when it shone the light on the wet grass around it was beautiful.
What a tiny little thing Cylch Derwyddol is! I don’t know how much stone is hidden under the soil, or how much exposed stone has been eroded away, but this site can’t have consisted of anything very large when it was built. Stone circles are very unusual in Ceredigion, so I got excited about it despite the size of it. It crossed my mind that this could be a cairn kerb, but the stones are very small, and there’s no sign of any cairn material (it’s listed as a circle on the NMRW).
Visited September 2001: On the way to Clynogg Fawr William fell asleep in the car, so we started this excursion at the pub, sitting outside with our drinks as he dozed. When he woke up we left the car in the pub car park and headed off to find the chamber. We walked through the churchyard, stopping off to look inside (quite an interesting little place) then and down the lane, eventually following an overgrown path to get to the chamber.
This is a beautiful little site, overlooked by the an array of mountains including the amazing breast shaped peak of Gyrn Goch (see IronMan’s photo) and cairn topped Gyrn Ddu. The chamber itself is charming despite the iron fence. We clambered underneath it and explored, but I only found out relatively recently that we failed to spot numerous cupmarks in the capstone. Well worth the walk, especially if you take into the account the added bonuses of the church and the pub!
Visited 5th June 2003: This site isn’t in very good nick compared to Cae’r Arglwyddes II. It’s smaller and more scattered. From what I could make out it looks like there is an exposed cist, but it’s so overgrown with stinging nettles that I’m not sure how well preserved it is. The cairn is also less easy to get to than it’s neighbour.
Visited 5th June 2003: This cairn is on private land with no public access (although it’s worth noting that there’s no fence between it and the road). When I visited, the field it stands in was full of cattle including an enormous bull. Luckily the herd was over the brow of the hill, so I moved swiftly.
The site turned out to be quite a beauty, not so much because of the cairn material, but because of the exposed cist. I managed to walk all the way around the cairn before realising just how well preserved the cist was. The setting is also spectacular, with views out towards the Dyfi Estuary (which I failed to capture in any of my photos).
Visited 5th June 2003: This was my third visit to Bedd Taliesin. I thought I’d try and get a better understanding of the site as a cairn, rather than focussing my attention on the exposed cist and capstone. There are large kerb stones visible around the site (the largest on the east side), and what remains of the cairn mound suggests that it was originally relatively large. Perhaps this is why it is so well known locally.
The sites I went on to visit further up the valley suggest to me that Bedd Taliesin stood at the head of some sort of sacred route, stretching down from the mountains (or up from the sea?) along the Cletwr Valley. This would be similar to the nearby strand of sites leading up towards Pumlumon from Plas Gogerddan.
Visited 25th May 2003: We approached from the direction of Maen Pebyll along an interesting little road that runs over the mountain. In the village there were teenagers playing what appeared to be hide and seek, and I was sorry to see that the pub was shut down.
When we arrived we went round the church the wrong way, so my first view of the Four Stones was from the south. My first thought was ‘look there’s an old stone marked boundary’, and I never quite managed to shake this idea off. The stones are very striking despite their medium stature. The Latin carved stone is a bonus, if you like that sort of thing (creative vandalism?). The proximity of the stones to the embankment that leads down from the churchyard down to the River Elwy is interesting, as is the short distance between the church itself and the stones. I wonder what the history of this place is. I think I need to do some reading.
The Four Stones Of Gwytherin were our last stop before Pizza Hut (I know it’s not very ethically minded, but there you go) then home.
Visited 25th May 2003: This site got me more excited than Capel Garmon. What a great place! Everyone else stayed in the car and I pegged it off to take a close look at the stones. What remains appears to be a collapsed chamber, and the ploughed down remains of the barrow mound to the east of it. The views from up here are very dramatic, especially looking west towards the mountains. This must have been quite a place!
I didn’t have much time at Maen Pebyll because the light was fading and I’d set my heart on visiting the Gwytherin Stones before we set of home. Well worth a visit though, if you don’t mind slumbering megaliths.
Visited 25th May 2003: After a kiddies party near Conwy I dragged everyone off to see some sites. First stop was Capel Garmon, which I last visited 20 years ago with my parents!
The chamber is heavily reconstructed, or so it appeared to me. We were all a bit tired and irritable, so it was difficult to relax and enjoy the site. Not much ‘zing’ was found here. The surrounding landscape is fantastic though, with excellent views of the mountains. I’d quite like to come here again on my own, without fractious kiddies, and see whether there’s any ‘zing’ here to be had.
I had intended to recreate the 1983 photos with Lou, Will and Alfie in them, but my attempts were too crap to post. Another thing I stuffed up was forgetting to check the location of the Gorsedd before heading out to the site. As a result I totally failed to take a look.
PS. Broen – I suspect that the farmer knew exactly where this site was when he directed you elsewhere. I didn’t get the feeling that he’s keen on people visiting the site (crappy gates, mad sheep dogs etc.)
Visited 11th May 2003: This was the last site I visited on my way back from Oxford. I found it from memory, having seen it listed on CARN. Thought to be a standing stone, the Hindwell Stone stands 300 metres (west north west) of the Four Stones. Although it’s a lot smaller than the stones in it’s neighbouring site, the type of stone and shape is similar.
I got more excited about this little chap than I did at the Four Stones. The surrounding hills, and Old Radnor were easy to see, and there are no nearby houses (unlike the Fours Stones). The ploughed field had a slightly Zen quality, with the stone sat on a small island of uncultivated soil. I really enjoyed visiting this obscure little megalith!
Visited 11th May 2003: The Radnor Four Stones were my penultimate stop off on the way home from Oxford. It was my first visit to the site, and I was travelling ‘sans map’. I overshot on the A44, turning off too far west. After asking directions from a friendly farmer I doubled back, and eventually ended up in the right place.
The four stones are enormous, but sat as they are in a big flat field, it all seemed a bit of an anticlimax when I got there. The stones are so squat and rounded that they could almost be sat on the surface rather than embedded in the ground (obviously this isn’t the case). They don’t seem to be orientated in any obvious way. I didn’t feel my eye being drawn to anything specific. I’m new to the ‘four poster’ thing, so perhaps it takes a while to tune into. After all that driving I was probably in the ‘wrong place’ for the Four Stones.
It goes without saying that this is a truly megalithic site, probably pivotal in a landscape of smaller sites, so it that respect ‘je ne regret rein’. The visit left me wondering what a four poster is doing in mid Wales!
Visited 18th April 2003: I looked for this site with just a Landranger map, and couldn’t find it. From the road I saw lots of stones that looked like they may have once been part of something, but it was all very inconclusive. More photogenic than these was a big pile of old cast iron baths.
Subsequently I’ve seen an old black and white photo of the site at the NMRW (sadly undated) showing the site to be a classic dolmen. What I can’t be sure of is whether the site still exists, but from the write up I suspect it does, and I was just looking in the wrong place.
Visited 20th April: I visited this site in the hope of finding something of the burial chamber that once stood here. Lou dozed in the car while I ran around like a loony with my GPS. I found nothing but sheep in the field where the tomb supposedly stood. There was a slight bump in the field, but nothing that I could conclusively identify. Perhaps for someone with a bit more time and patience there might be clues to find here, but in the end I gave up.
Visited 15th April 2003: This is the strangest natural feature I’ve seen in a while. It’s a long narow curving band of scattered rocks, stretching from the Carn Menyn Chambered Cairn down into the valley. From a distance it looks river like (and a bit alien) winding it’s way down from the Preseli ridge. I pinched the name ‘Stone River’ from the book Prehistoric Preseli by N.P. Figgis.
I’m usually a bit sceptical about the connection between ‘natural’ sites and artificial prehistoric sites, but this one left me relatively certain that it was of significance to the people who erected the Preseli sites. The fact that the Carn Menyn Cairn was built directly at the head of this feature makes this likely. From Bedd Arthur the river can be seen stretching away from majesty of Carn Meini, down towards the flat fertile land where Gors Fawr is sited. The river is also very easy to see from below (e.g. from the Rhos Fach Standing Stones), like an arrow pointing to Carn Meini.
There’s another photo of the Stone River, taken from Bedd Arthur, under the Carn Menyn Chambered Cairn section, as well as some shots of the cairn showing the beginning of the river.
This feature is strangely un-sung!
Visited 28th April 2003: After St. Lythans we headed for Tinkinswood, and weren’t disappointed. It was a sunny evening, and the tomb looked great in the contrasting light and shadow. William was very happy playing here, because the chamber is so large. He kept running up to the edge of the capstone, which scared us silly as it’s a long drop to the ground in places. The cists behind the chamber were interesting, as was the beautiful dry stone walling on the east side of the site. The nearby power cables and pylon didn’t bother me too much, certainly not in comparison to the uncomfortable feeling I got at the Countless Stones. What a great place!
Visited 28th April 2003: This was one hell of a detour. We’d spent the weekend in the south east of England, and were supposed to be going home to mid-west Wales. Somehow I persuaded Louise that we should pop in and see St. Lythans and Tinkinswood on the way (adding about two hours to the journey). Armed with a crumby road atlas we eventually found our way to St. Lythans, and after a change of footwear and a stretch, we marched up the field to the chamber.
What a great site this is. From a distance the two largest uprights look flat like walls, meeting the capstone neatly. On closer inspection it’s clear that all the stones are peppered with little round holes, presumably caused by weathering. There’s a hole right through the smallest of the uprights, which William wanted to stick his hand through (I had to hold him up). The capstone is enormous, and I must admit (like Mr. Cope) I couldn’t resist a quick look at the top of it. The top of the stone is deeply rutted with valleys and holes, full of water. I felt no mystical bad vibes while I was perching up there (I think I’m numbed to that sort of thing) but I did feel a bit irresponsible, so I hopped down quick smart. The chamber is extremely photogenic, fitting nicely into the dolmen stereotype.
Visited 16th March 2003: A bit more impressive than Nant-y-Fedwen, this round cairn is really obvious from the road. It’s quite large for the area, given it’s altitude and the relative fertility of the surrounding land (I mean relative to the mountain peaks rather than the lowlands).
This cairn would once have shared the valley with a number of other sites, some of which (like the Aber Camddwr Ring Cairn) were destroyed with the creation of the Nant-y-Moch Reservoir. The peaks of all the surrounding mountains still have Bronze Age cairns on them, and there are still a number of sites along the valley. This area must have been humming with ritual significance a few thousand years ago!
Visited 16th March 2003: William and I went on a megalithic mission into the mountains, and on the way we stopped to look for Nant-y-Fedwen. All I found that looked vaguely likely were these scattered boulders and a slight lump. Looking at the photos I’m still not convinced that I’ve identified the site correctly. Perhaps a second visit is in order to make sure I’m not missing something.
Visited 6th April 2003: Although it’s an impressive place, this isn’t the kind of site I would usually go out of my way to visit. Luckily it’s sat betwixt Maengwyngweddw and Maen Serth, which makes for a lovely ridgeway walk.
There are two cairns that I could identify. One is really quite large, and is either a ring cairn or an excavated cairn (I’d go with the latter). It has some sizeable kerb stones on its western side, but nothing much elsewhere. Just to the south of the big cairn is a tiny one.
Visited 6th April 2003: Maen Serth was our goal on the walk along the ridge. Since our visit I’ve learned that it’s antiquity is in doubt, which I suspected at the time given that it stands right on top of the hill. As we approached from the west the stone looked at first like an elongated trig point. The track runs to the south of the stone, so a minor deviation takes you right up to it.
Maen Serth is a beautiful slender thing. Unfortunately it’s set in concrete, and surrounded by lines of erosion caused by my good friends the motorcyclists. The setting more than makes up for this, with beautiful views in all directions. Fortunately we weren’t met by any other walkers or of-road types while we were at the stone. In fact all was tranquil, and (despite the fact we live on a secluded rural hillside) I enjoyed sitting on a secluded rural hillside next to a standing stone listening to the Skylark. It’s a shame if this baby is Medieval rather than Bronze Age. I’ll post more up about the stone when I’ve done some more research.
Visited 6th April 2003: Maengwyngweddw is only a short walk from the road, following a rutted ridgeway track that’s used by off-roaders and bikers. There’s a lot of erosion caused by these vehicles, and it’s getting worse because the bikes are making new ruts on either side of the track (presumably as they diverge from the route to avoid the puddles). I’m not a big fan of the 4x4 lot, but I really hate off-road bikers ‘cos they bring erosion and noise pollution! I’ll stop ranting now.
Maengwyngweddw is a small lump of quartz, partially shielded by reeds. Approaching from the west it’s easy to see. For some reason that isn’t entirely clear to me, there are a number of old broken bricks scattered around the area. They’re not modern packing stones, but there are a few around the hollow immediately next to the stone. The hollow is presumably caused by livestock, so perhaps the bricks were intended to stop this erosion. I recently saw a similar thing at Tafarn y Bwlch but done with stones. Maengwyngweddw is a Ceredigion style standing stone – small and squat. It’s worth visiting for the views, but not if you like your prehistoric sites on the big side.
Visited 6th April 2003: On our way to Maengwyngweddw I insisted on stopping at Maen Hir to get some decent photographs. This time the weather was much better, with the view to the west relatively clear. The position of this stone at the head of the valley may relate to Afon Ystwyth, which eventually emerges next to Aberystwyth (the town’s name meaning mouth of the Ystwyth).
Visited 17th April 2003: More like a drive-by than a proper visit. The light was fading, and I was under the distinct impression that I was pushing my luck with prehistoric site visiting.
We were heading towards Pembroke on the B4320 and I spotted two large round barrows in the field to the south of the road. They looked quite broad, with shallow sloping sides, suggesting that they were originally large barrows that have been considerably ploughed down.
Visited 11th May 2003: Having visited the Hoar Stone, I drove down the road to Taston to see the Thor Stone. The village is tiny, and parking near the stone without blocking the road is tricky. You can’t miss it though. It’s so obvious that I wondered at first whether this was what I was looking for (should have done some research before setting out).
Visited 11th May 2003: On my way from a delightful weekend in Oxford, inevitably I popped into a few sites along the way. The Hoar stone was my first port of call.
I’ve visited the site before, but eight years on I had no recollection of where it was, and only some rubbish directions to go by. After driving up and down the road between Enstone and Taston, I realised that the site wasn’t where I’d thought it was (the dot on the map I was looking at was a mile stone!). The memories eventually came flooding back, and I recalled doing exactly the same thing back in 1995.
Just for the record, you need to take the B4022 from Enstone towards Taston, then take the first left hand turn and park immediately on your left. Now turn your head 90 degrees to the right and you’re looking at it. Sounds easier than it is, because the chamber is shielded from the road by trees.
Visited 24th May 2003: We made our way up to this site from the Waun Mawn Stone, but over-shot, and ended up approaching from the north west. The views from up there were incredible, even though the weather was changing from erratic to rainy.
Of the three stones that we could identify, only one remains standing in a circular puddle (yes, another deep muddy puddle for William to play near). Both the recumbent stones were clearly standing at some time, with identifiable holes where they once stood. Two of the stones (the ones to the east) are close together and the third stands a way off to the west. There was quite a good feeling to the place, and I reckon it would be extremely pleasant to sit up here on a nice day and enjoy some solitude.
Visited 10th May 2003: This was the penultimate site of the day, and the folks I were travelling with were getting slightly megalith weary. I hopped out of the car for a quick gander, and tried to look like I wouldn’t take long. What an amazingly enigmatic site this is. I think I need to do it justice with a longer visit when I have time to contemplate (perhaps in another lifetime!).
Visited 24th May 2003: This standing stone is relatively close to the Tafarn y Bwlch stone pair. It stands a short way up the hillside from the track, and is easy to spot. The first thing that struck me was the little pond that Waun Mawn stands in, and the second thing that struck me was that William was about to try wading in it! The water was muddy, but clearly deeper than his wellies are long, so I had to move quickly to avoid a premature trip back to the car.
Visited 24th May 2003: After visiting Pentre Ifan with Jane and her posse, we went our separate ways, Jane to the seaside and us lot to the stones around Tafarn y Bwlch. The walk to this stone pair is very civilized, and compared to many other sites in the area, access is very good. The track leads right past them, and on towards Waun Mawn.
The unusual thing about the Tafarn y Bwlch stones is they both lean, and were probably erected that way. The angles of the stones remain remarkably similar, even after 3000 plus of livestock rubbing against them (and 3 year olds sitting on them). Why were they created this way? They reminded me of the stones at Bedd Arthur and Meini Gwyr, both local where the lean on the stones might be original.
Visited 10th May 2003: We parked at the end of the restored stretch of the West Kennett Avenue and Flotsky and I took a brisk stroll to what remains of Falkner’s Circle. The weather kept changing while we were there, and when it chose to be sunny the light was brilliant and crisp. Surprisingly pleasant, given the amount of destruction this place has had inflicted on it.