Kammer

Visited 20th April 2003: On our way to St David’s to get milk, first thing in the morning, William and I detoured to visit this stone. There’s no public right of way through the field it stands in, but it can easily be seen from the road. I’d have liked to get closer, but the field is sewn with crops, and I didn’t have time to seek out the farmer (even though the farmhouse is very close to the stone).

Visited 19th April 2003: I confess this was my first visit to Gors Fawr, and it lived up to my expectations. It was really sunny, and visibility was good, so the Preseli range appeared formidable and central to the focus of the site.

The outlying stones to the north of the circle stand between it and the mountains. Beyond them (obscured by trees, gorse and buildings) are the Rhos Fach stones, which could once have been visible from the circle. Off in other directions are numerous standing stones, orientated towards the mountains. The probability that the people who erected those standing stones would have known, and possibly worshipped at Gors Fawr amazes me. The circle is a megalithic cathedral surrounded by little chapels (and gorse).

We eventually wandered over to the outlying stones, which are relatively large compared to the stones in the circle. All the gorse in the area has been grazed into topiary by the sheep (I assume) so the immediate landscape has a bit of a manicured feel to it. William seemed to like it though. When we got back to the car we found that Alfie had lost a sock (he’d been in the backpack) so I had to retrace our steps on my own. It was good to be out there without William tearing about. The place was that bit more tranquil.

Incidentally I found the missing sock, but if anyone finds a little woollen hat near Bedd Arthur please let me know.

Visited 19th April 2003: Louise chose this site as a minor detour on our way to Gors Fawr. The first thing we saw was one of the two modern standing stones on the common. We parked up near these and my initial reaction was to check the Landranger in case we’d entirely screwed up. Having established that one of the modern stones is marked on the map as a monument, we set out to find the real thing.

The Rhos Fach Standing Stones aren’t on the common land, but to the north of it, hiding behind a huge forest of gorse. You can get good views of them from the common land, with Carn Meini behind them. We were extremely lucky with the weather, and the whole setting was beautiful (if a bit windy). I’d definitely recommend a visit to anyone visiting Gors Fawr.

The name Rhos Fach means little moor or little heath.

Visited 18th April 2003: I spotted this stone on the Landranger, and persuaded Lou that we should detour to visit it on our way back from Fishguard (aka Abergwaun).

The first thing we saw as we approached was a small stone, slightly further south than the place I’d expected to find the Ffynnon Druidion stone. On closer inspection it turned out to be a recently erected stone, with lots of tell tail signs that it had been recumbent not that long ago. Subsequent investigation confirmed my suspicion that it isn’t prehistoric. I’ve christened it the Ffynnon Druidion JCB Stone.

The real Ffynnon Druidion stone stands in the next field along from it’s fake neighbour. It’s rather tall (maybe 7ft) with a slight zigzag shape to it, and covered in lichen. At it’s base it tapers and there are lots of exposed packing stones around it. I found it rather impressive, and having just visited it’s in neighbour, it felt comfortingly old.

Visited 18th April 2003: We parked in the yard in front of Longhouse Farm, and followed the footpath north east to Carreg Samson. There’s a concrete track most of the way, but it’s a bit muddy from the cattle. I reckon an adventurous wheelchair user could get very close to the site with a little bit of help.

The cattle own Carreg Samson, or that’s how it looked as we approached. Luckily they were just inquisitive bullocks, using the chamber as a sun shade and scratching post. They took a shine to William, and we got close up to them under the capstone. It was all very friendly. The fact that cows can fit under the capstone gives an indication of the size of the chamber. It’s whopping, and I had no trouble standing at the northern end to admire the lumps of quartz in the rock. What an amazing site. It must be second only to Pentre Ifan amongst the burial chambers of south west Wales.

As well as the cows we met a very friendly and extremely posh couple who had come to visit the chamber. If I recall correctly, her mother lived at the farm as a little girl. Sadly no folklore was forthcoming, but the gent entertained William with some simple magic tricks. Just goes to show, you can meet people at Carreg Samson.

Visited 17th April 2003: I might be able to shed some light on why Chris couldn’t get close up to the tomb. There’s a sign on the gate with an unfriendly message on it (I can’t remember the exact wording) plus a barbed wire fence and an electric fence in the field where the chamber lies. The farmhouse is relatively close by, so you get the distinct impression you’re being watched.

None of this was too much of a deterrent to me until I realised that the field was full of crops I decided to go no further (aggravated trespass is a crime, and I’m a good boy at heart) and took some photos from the edge of the field. It’s a shame that access to the site is so poor.

According to G.E. Daniel (in The Prehistoric Chamber Tombs of England and Wales) this site is of the ‘earthfast’ type, but this is contested by others because the level of the ground where the capstone rests may not be original. Apparently the tomb not oriented towards the sea, but towards Milford Haven Sound (not that I could really tell from the distance I was viewing from).

Visited 26th April 2003: Dad looked after William while I explored Devil’s Dyke. I wasn’t alone. There were hoards of kids on bikes at one end, playing some sort of game that was leading to tears. Being off duty, I did the responsible thing and walked the other way.

The sun was doing well getting through the trees, and the bluebells were out, so it was all rather pleasant. The dyke is really quite deep in places, tapering off at each end. Getting from one side to the other is tricky, and because the sides are steep and eroded by generations of bike riding kids. Not a good place to visit for anyone who’s not sure footed, but an excellent place to take kids (Dad assures me he took us here, but I don’t remember it). The best parking for Devil’s Dyke is on Ceaser’s Road.

The Slad is on private property, and not visible from he road as much more than a line of trees. The southern end of the Slad peters out into a long curving pond, which you can just about get to from he road.

Visited 17th April 2003: This stone is in a field of lush pasture, so I decide to exercise my right to roam (somewhat prematurely) and take a closer look. The field is a lot bigger than it looks, and the stone is lot further away from the road than I expected. I’d anticipated a short jog, but the journey turned out to be quite a run (with a commando style roll in the middle to get under an electric fence).

I realised why I’d misjudged the distances when I eventually stood next to the stone. It’s really rather large (none of the photos I took convey the real size of it). I  remember thinking that it wouldn’t look out of place at Avebury. A short run back to the car, and we headed off to the next Devil’s Quoit, trying to beat the sunset.

Visited 17th April 2003: Actually it’s an over statement to describe this as a visit. The Harold Stone is on private land, so I’m guessing access is a potential problem. We were pressed for time because the sun was setting fast, and I had in mind a visit to the Devil’s Quoit. I decided to cut my losses and stop short of trying to get close to the stone. I settled for this photo taken from the road.

Visited 17th April 2003: I thought that a visit to Pembroke castle was going to be a break from prehistory, but there’s no escaping it. The Wogan is an enormous cave underneath the castle, which was incorporated into the defences in the thirteenth century. It was used intermittently as a shelter from the Palaeolithic period to the Mesolithic. It’s likely that it was also used during the Bronze Age.

The cave is enormous, and impossible to photograph with a conventional flash. There’s a spiral staircase leading down to it from the castle, and something called a watergate (i.e. a big wall) blocks the original entrance except for a gate and a window.

As well as the Wogan, there’s an Iron Age connection up on the surface. It’s widely believed that the castle was built on the site of a promontory fort. The original defensive ditch that the castle used, and by implication the fort, was subsequently filled in. This makes it impossible to prove or disprove the Iron Age fort theory without digging up the site.

You have to pay to get into the castle to visit the Wogan, but it’s a great castle, so I’d recommend it.

Visited 17th April 2003: This isn’t the sort of site I usually post up on the Modern Antiquarian. I’m never all that sure about holy wells on a Web site about pre-history. Their credentials vary, and I can’t claim any particular reason for thinking that the well at St. Govan’s predates the chapel.

Having done the scepticism thing, I can heartily recommend St. Govan’s well and the nearby chapel as a place to visit. Both are, at the very least, amazing examples of Celtic Christian sites, and the setting is spectacular. If you can visit off season then you might get the place to yourself, which is something special. I’ve visited St. Govan’s so many times, it feels comfortingly familiar.

As well as the saint’s well, there’s also a smaller well inside the chapel. This is much less impressive and usually fills up with litter. Also part of the chapel is a strange roofless anteroom that has the natural rock face as two of its walls. Inside is a niche within which are unusual natural markings, presumably made by thousands of years of water erosion. Perhaps this place did represent something special to our pre-Christian ancestors. I’ll have to try harder to image it all without the chapel.

Visited 17th April 2003: If ever a site was inappropriately named, this is it. The Long Stone is now a short stone, reduced to a withered stump. It looks like the damage to the stone might be the result of weathering, because it’s made up of some sort of sandstone (apologies to Geologists out there, but that’s my best guess). I wonder what it looked like 100 years ago.

There’s no public access to the stone, and you can’t see it from the road, but there is an appropriately placed hole in the hedge quite near it. I think this may be one of those sites you should visit, before it’s gone for good. Rather a sad place really, especially as it sits in the shadow of the oil refinery.