After spending some time in the village trying to get directions (which ranged from total ignorance to directions to the churchyard) a lady was fetched for me who ‘has lived here longer than anyone’. A lot of people struggle getting information in rural Kernow, but as a native I recognised this as genuine lack of knowledge, rather than the usual emit baiting. I was given directions, up past the round houses, to a field where ‘there’s nothing to see, though I daresay you might be able to tell there was a mound there if you were an expert’, but I was assured that there were ‘wonderful views’ and it would thus ‘not be an entirely wasted trip’.
The mound is the most pronounced I have ever visited in this country and stood out as a huge digitalis induced purple hump in a field of new grass. The concrete slab is a little ugly, but the mound is well structured and very well preserved.
One of the best above ground places to visit as a family, there is plenty of shade on the mound, and the views are dramatic, although it was very overgrown.
I found myself desperatly wanting to belive that there really was a huge golden ship with silver oars and, out of character, truly wishing that the excavation which made a lie of the legend had never occured.