In contrast to Carnwnda which we stopped at later on the day, this dolmen seems all about the structure, the suspension of a megalith openly and on purpose into an area of long range viewspace. If Carnwnda was a cave shelter metaphor, this one is a mountain. But perhaps it needs the outcrop next to it, which birthed it’s raw materials, to work...
Cummings and Whittle, in a detailed landscape based analysis of Neolithic monuments in Wales, undertook visual mapping of the views present when placing oneself at the monuments.
In the case of Ffyst Samson, they classed the views from the NE to the SE as closed. But if you stand on the outcrop, you get a full 360 panorama including the Preselis. And notably, the capstone is positioned on the horizon looking out to sea (Aber Mawr bay) where there is no outcrop or mountain in the panorama. Was it built to fill that view, and to reference the sea? The capstone even looks shaped like a chunky crescent with a scalloped edge, imitating the shape of the bay it ‘looks down on’ if you follow the sight line from the outcrop.
Wild speculation likely, but this one feels like the landscape around it was crucial to it’s siting, and the outcrop inextricably interwoven into whatever it’s builders were up to.
AdrianStallwood
Visited at twilight on February 13th, 2025.
This monument is in such a great spot, cracking views all over Strumble Head and out to sea, including the lighthouse. Although it’s earth-fast/submegalithic/propped stone, it’s far from subtle in appearance when look you up at Carn Wnda....a massive horizontal slab lying contrary to all the vertical flats of the crags around it.
This one seems all about the creation of the chamber, for whatever purpose it was put to. Jack up a slab in situ, make a pit, then stone wall all around to make a chamber. The aesthetics of floating a stone don’t seem relevant here, as if the underpinning ideology or function was of a different kind to the dolmens.
The great evidence destroyer Fenton got to this one too, and noted in 1848:
‘From the quantities of red and black ashes mixed with portions of what seemed to be decomposed burnt bones and small fragments of rude pottery which I found...in the hollow below, I felt no hesitation in forming the conclusion that it had been a place of internment‘
The red ashes are interesting, although Fenton doesn’t say if they plant or animal?
February 12th. Visit on a full moonlight night, no wind. Foxes and pheasants calling in the valley below. The dolmen, fat and pregnant and glowing ethereal, choreographer to the stars as they dance onto her nocturnal stage.
Visited the dolmen on the frosty night of February 7th, not long after Imbolc and on a waxing moon. First time we have been there since Storm Darragh blew in. Unfortunately this has turned the route that most people use, the public footpath off the minor road to the south of Llanglydwen that goes past Pen-pontbren, into a Grade A assault course. Fallen pines and firs have come down like dominos all over the path, and as with many places, there has been no attempt to clear up. We had to go through the fields south of the path, and it looked like we had not been the first to do so. The path badly needs the council to get in there with chainsaws.
We were worried that the beech grove around the dolmen was going to be similarly battered, but storm damage has been thankfully minimal. A couple of split or uprooted trees nearby but the sylvan feel of this unique spot remains intact. There was a nice round chunk of quartz on the floor of the chamber that wasn’t there last time. The white water river section in the gorge below rumbling to itself, and easy to imagine the spirits of the woodland and the ancestors tickling the edges of perception.
A very soggy nocturnal visit to Gors Fawr after two days of torrential rain, making the bog siting even more sodden and sucky than usual. Compensation was given in that finally the stars were visible after days and days of murk.
The suggestion (and apparent antiquarian accounts) of an avenue between the circle and the stone pair seems to feel ‘right’ on the ground, although being also the route of the footpath that cuts across to Mynachlog-ddu Common it’s obviously well walked.
However, there are some more rocks along the path that seem a bit odd, like they could have been placed. A reddish weathered rock that looked like a giant wedge of cheese (of the same kind that holds the little plaque at the entrance to the site) was striking. What if the avenue to the outliers was part of an ancient trackway (following the footpath and then the modern road) up to the skirt of Carn Sian and via that onto the Preselis? All speculative, but the area around is littered with (still) standing stones like Glynsaithmaen and Rhos Fach, all of which would surely have existed for centuries as contemporaries in the landscape.
We probably shouldn’t publish this as this is one of our favourite sites to walk the dogs where we hardly see anyone...so if you make it up via TMA and see two loud Collies running around and barking, doff your metaphorical cap and keep your distance :)
Mynydd Castlebythe is a lonely, wild heathery hill just outside Puncheston. Posting here on account of the barrow cemetery at the summit (two round barrows and two ring barrows). The highest round barrow is topped by a trig point. The views are fantastic and stretch to Gower, the mountains of Mid Wales, and all the Pembrokeshire peaks including Carn Ingli and the Preselis.
To get there, look for the hamlet of Castlebythe on the map. It’s only essentially a few houses, a farm and a churchyard. At the crossroads, turn left and drive up onto the hillside along a minor road. You can park up on the left a few hundred yards after crossing the cattle grid. Walk straight up the steep hill path on the right. You will probably not see anyone, although if you are very unlucky the local fox hunting w**krs will be up there on their yearly blood fest.
Garn Turne has always felt to us like Pentre Ifan’s evil twin. There are a few similarities between the two sites – the multiphase construction that seemed to begin with a sacred stone dug out of a pit, the later addition of a forecourt, the evidence of burning in and around the capstone – but also some significant divergences that give Garn Turne a very different atmosphere.
Whereas Pentre Ifan seems light, airy, almost untethered, Garn Turne seems earthbound, dark and menacing. The sheer weight obviously present in the capstone and it’s accompanying megaliths is part of it. But there has always seemed to us a kind of haunting nastiness about it, as if the ghosts that linger there died in pain or unwillingly. Could be just us though...
Anyway, unlike Pentre Ifan which feels tidy and well on the beaten track, this site is rough and ready. It’s in a large scraggy field with blackthorny bits, some beautiful wind whipped old hawthorns and a gorsedd festooned with well, gorse. You may be unlucky and find cows in it or sometimes sheep.
The whole site is interesting, as it really seems that the natural features that were important to the monument builders are still intact. The aforementioned rock outcrop dominates the site and the immediate landscape around, and gives off a power all of it’s own. As mentioned by others (e.g. Children and Nash) there is a spring adjoining the outcrop and directly west uphill from the monument. The spring is surrounded by rocks that almost look placed there in a circular fashion. You can climb the outcrop quite easily and it’s a great spot to chill out in nice weather.
Tonight though, Garn Turne was it’s usual cold and doomy self in the mist, so we took a few pictures, had a dram and were off. Will return in the sun so tbc
A revisit tonight to this great stone with customary rubbish North Pembrokeshire weather.
The stone is a good size, standing 2.6 metres high and having an impressive bulk to it. Looking downhill towards the north, it could be said to resemble a broad shouldered hooded figure. Visiting is easy if you’re doing a pitstop, as there is a big pull in place on the road next to where the public footpath leaves the road.
(NB there is still some crappy rusting old fencing dug into the ground around it, and whilst not visually intrusive could be a hazard for dogs).
The stone is both aesthetically pleasing and nicely located. The views to the north are dominated by the ‘sleeping goddess’ sacred mountain of Carn Ingli and it’s Common, with the Gwaun Valley in between. Uphill to the south, although not visible, is Waun Mawn and a collection of standing stones and pairs in the basin to the north of Cerrig Lladron (the footpath heading south will get you there via a remote hill farm with some mad looking and barky Collies). The stone, or whatever it may have formed part of, could easily have been a marker or connection between two ritual centres. We, like everyone else, have never found anything that looks like the ruined cromlech that was supposedly spotted in 1914.
There is also apparently a possible Bronze Age cairn, the nicely named Carn Wrach (Cairn of the Witch) 460m to the southeast, but all that’s visible on the ground are lots of rocks which the farmer will no doubt start JCB’ing as he’s doing in the Tre-Fach stone field.
Went out tonight for a spot of nocturnal cairn bothering on Plumstone Mountain. Access is simple as there is a large car park. Popular site with dog walkers.
The rocky tor is really impressive despite being quite small in terms of ground area. It’s an outcrop of Ordovician rhyolite born in the belly of a volcano, with the same stuff outcropping also at nearby Treffgarne and Roch. There are great all round views to the Preselis and across to the Bristol Channel (will post more images on daytime visit).
The common is a 145 hectare Site of Special Scientific Interest, with a variety of heaths and marshes. Sadly the enormous starling roost that was a winter highlight has moved off a few years ago.
Antiquarian wise, there are four barrows in very reasonable repair. Cook, writing in 2006 in the journal of the Pembrokeshire Historical Society, says that ‘there are two pairs of barrows located 400m apart from each other on an east-west alignment’. However, tonight, we could only find one of the more westerly pair, which should have been located in a very recently ploughed field.
Four barrows remain intact. There is an eastern pair right next to the rock (called Plumstone Central 1 and 2 on Coflein). One of them is on common land and has been walked, cycled and ridden over so many times it’s all smoothed over. It’s pair is just over the barbed wire fence nearby and heathered over.
Head down away from the tor on the big track to the right hand side, and follow the fence round to the third barrow which has it’s own gated enclosure (Plumstone West on Coflein).
The fourth barrow, a rocky one, is technically on Dudwell Mountain not Plumstone, and although topped with the trig point on the maps is trickier to access as it’s all covered in gorse and heather. We didn’t get there tonight so will update after returning. Interestingly, Coflein says ‘early reports speak of a “demolished cromlech” with a 2’ by 5’ chamber, however no identifiable remains of this were noted in 1966‘