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Ballynoe is cited by none other than Aubrey Burl as 'one of the great rings of Western Europe'.... so an overcast morning, threatening rain, is probably not the optimum time to visit. But then experience has shown that dear Roisin Dubh rarely accommodates the insignificant wishes of Gladman, so he's well advised to take whatever's on offer, so to speak.
The circle is located a couple of miles south of Downpatrick, the town, as its name implies, more than happy with its association with yer man himself (although the claim that St Patrick's actually buried in the cathedral here is perhaps somewhat, ahem, tenuous). The final approach on foot is along a tree-lined track, the unintentional effect of which, combined with such a distinguished write up, is to heighten the anticipation of the traveller to, well, you get the idea. It therefore comes as quite a shock to find.... no fanfare... no fence, no turnstiles, no hype... in fact not even any people. Just a deep, lush pasture with Slieve Donard (one of the 'Mountains of Mourne') gracing the horizon to the south west and a slumbering arrangement of large stones poking above the grass. Right on!
The sense of anticlimax, albeit most welcome, is fleeting, for the validity of Mr Burl's assertion is soon very much apparent. And then some, since the circumference of the ring is still nearly intact, featuring numerous large orthostats. There's more, however, in the form of a long mound partially surrounded by a heavy, incomplete kerb. Whether this originally enclosed the mound is unclear, although further kerb stones at the western end suggest it did, I guess. The mound itself possesses remains of a cist at its eastern end. So, Ballynoe is a fine, multiphase monument. But which came first, long mound or circle?
Well, perhaps the siting of portal stones outside the (approx) western entrance at Ballynoe might shed some light here, for Mr Burl hypothesises that since this (amongst other features) is very similar to the arrangements to be found at several Cumbrian 'circles (in particular at the wonderful Sunkenkirk), there is a case for suggesting Ballynoe was erected by incomers from across the Irish Sea, perhaps trading axes from Langdale? And of course the great Cumbrian circles do not surround tombs. An intriguing theory, also discussed, incidentally, by Mr Cope in his 'You Gotta Problem...' sleeve notes.
Ballynoe has many other stories to tell, including possible Mid Winter alignments upon the aforementioned Slieve Donard. But perhaps the most significant story is that here we have one of Britain's finest stone circles languishing in relative obscurity. But don't just take Aubrey's word for it..... I happen to think so, too.
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Although rising to a relatively modest 1,078ft, the incredible mini-mountain of Knocknarea (Cnoc na Riabh) appears much higher to the passing traveller, the result of its isolated coastal position emphasising its full elevation literally from sea level. Indeed, water would appear to be key to its significance within the landscape, the deep incursions of Sligo Harbour (to the north) and Ballysadare Bay (to the south) combining with the Garvoge River, draining Lough Gill (to the east), to form the peninsular upon which the mountain stands, to the west of the great Carrowmore megalithic cemetery. That Knocknarea and the latter are linked, I guess, must go without saying?
Knocknarea is visible - nay, dominates the skyline - for many miles around the locality, making it a suitable spot to erect surely one of the most enigmatic pile of stones in all Ireland... Miosgan Meadhbha, or Maeve's Cairn. Unexcavated, like nearby Heapstown Cairn, the monument is on a par with the great passage graves of Bru na Boinne in terms of size, but, for me, eclipses them in terms of visual impact and siting. Although generally thought to contain a burial chamber (or two) - oh come on, it must, surely? - I suppose we could even have an Irish variant upon the Silbury theme if this was found not be the case after all? Hmm. Unlikely, I think.
The monument is bordered by a substantial bank and several smaller cairns, further emphasising its stature, as well as a small prehistoric settlement to the north east. And of course there's the sweeping sea views across Sligo Bay and beyond Sligo itself to the elegant escarpment of Yeat's Benbulben, the evocative scene enhanced by cloud swirling around the cairn and across the summit plateau. Suffice to say if there isn't a great queen buried within... there bloody well should be!
Knocknarea truly has it all, so you won't be surprised to know that there's a price to pay for an audience with Queen Maeve... that of a steep climb. I'd suggest the easiest approach is the obvious one, via a pretty rough track starting from the Grange North car park to the south east.. not easy, but within the capabilities of the average mortal, I'd have thought. We took approx 45 minutes, although this included a diversion to eulogise with a typically rosy cheeked farmer over the beauty of his two magnificent horses whilst his cattle curiously looked on. Bear in mind the aforementioned cloud, however. Although a mini-mountain, normal rules apply, so take care.
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Cong is a small, historic town sited between the loughs Mask and Corrib, large bodies of water which restrict the approach to the mountains of Connemara from the east. Its principle claim to fame is the ruined 12th Century abbey, the building besieged by schoolboys as we arrive from Galway, thoughts of their heritage no doubt the last thing upon the minds of the little shites.... The other attraction is a ghastly, mock-medieval structure known as Ashford Castle. Hmm. Nothing here to satiate the megalithically minded then?
Appearances, of course, can be deceptive, for just a mile(ish) to the north-east sits as varied a four stone circle complex as you could wish for. Needless to say, without a map, or road sign of any description, we struggle to find the rings at first. But 'endure and perservere' has always been an unofficial Gladman motto.... and eventually the first of the quartet - the northern most, and coincidentally finest - comes into view. It is worth finding, being a variant recumbent circle, the recumbent and odd little flankers set on the northern arc of a ring enclosing the remains of a kerbed cairn. The setting is exquisite, too, the stones having been erected upon what would appear to be an artificial platform, overlooking a pasture from beneath a copse of trees. This, then, is the 'cared for' site for the occasional visitor.
The second site lies beyond the stone wall to the south. A large, embanked stone circle - the largest ring of the group - it is dishevelled, semi-derelict and overgrown, but nevertheless still possesses several large orthostats in situ. The visitor retains a perception of having a 'stolen moment' here; such experiences are, of course, often all the more sweeter and memorable because of their illegitimacy, whether actual or supposed. It is an evocative site, indeed.
The third stone circle, to the north east, is a ruinous cairn-circle of four surviving uprights. It is also engulfed by vegetation but well worth the calf graze I suffer climbing the dilapidated dry stone wall to get to it. Show sites have their place, but arguably these half-forgotten, hidden monuments offer more reward to the inquisitive.
The final circle of the group stands within the private grounds of Deanery Place, shrouded by yet more foliage. But unfortunately time has run out. Burl cites this as being a 'plain elipse' with a 'score of light-grey stones...'
Back in the car it's time to head into yonder mountains, well happy with a visit to perhaps the most neglected stone circle complex on the western coast?
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Megalithically-minded visitors to Lough Arrow and its environs - a most beautiful part of Ireland, it has to be said - are quite rightly captivated by the great Carrowkeel cairns crowning the Bricklieve Mountains. These are a 'must visit', if ever there was one. Other visitors, not so inclined, carry on down the N4 to Sligo, perhaps to indulge in some Yeats, or, if that doesn't appeal, 15 pints of Guinness. Hey, it's a nice town, so it is.
However virtually no-one, it would appear, makes the short detour beyond the northern tip of the lough to Heapstown crossroads. Time is money, or so the proverbial 'they' say, but if you do make the effort I guarantee your 'account' will be in credit. And you can't say fairer than that, can you?
For here, a little north of the aforementioned crossroads, sits a veritable slumbering giant of a cairn - I assume 'passage grave', although, like nearby Maeve's Cairn upon Knocknarea, it remains 'unopened'. And what an unassuming behemoth it is, too, hidden away in a wooded field set back from the junction of minor roads. A full 60m in diameter, it is one of the largest cairns in Ireland outside of Bru Na Boinne, far larger than those at Carrowkeel. The site is bordered by a kerb which infers that the cairn was once far larger than it currently is, the missing material probably now adorning many a local wall, road or building.
According to the local, excellent guide (issued by the Arrow Community Enterprise Limited), George Petrie (yes, himself) visited Heapstown in 1837, at which time a large monolith stood upon the cairn's summit. Unfortunately this is now long gone, apparently lying smashed somewhere within the lush vegetation surrounding the site. More's the pity. The site is known as Carn Oillriallaigh in gaelic folklore... which apparently alludes to it being the tomb of Aillil.... must study up on Irish mythology.
We visit upon a typically Irish day of fine, misty drizzle - the 'dry sort of rain which won't soak you to the skin', according to one of our many B&B hosts, I forget which - this lending a somewhat soft focus to the landscape and cairn-topped mountains beyond the lough. Does wonders for the female skin, too. Oh yes, this phenomenon being another of the wonders of Ireland. But I digress... Anyway, climbing the slippery cairn material with the intrepid 'Gladmum', a dog barks in the yard below as it spots the intruders, so momentarily breaking the silence which seems to envelope the great cairn like a warm blanket. We sit at the summit in hushed awe - reverence, even - trying in vain to contemplate the mind-blowing expenditure of effort it must have taken to erect this monument. And why build it here, aloof from the great nearby mountain top cemetery? Putting it simply I believe there is a lot more to Heapstown Cairn than currently meets the eye, and it could well have been an integral part of the Carrowkeel 'experience'. This is a very, very important site, indeed.
It certainly deserves to be better known...... but in a curious way is fine just the way it is, so to speak.
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Oh Carrowkeel... word fails me, but I guess I should try and describe something of what it meant to visit this astonishing prehistoric ritual complex. For me Carrowkeel is quite simply the finest of the major Irish megalithic cemeteries. Sure, it lacks the connoisseur's art of the Bru na Boinne tombs and Loughcrew - and is of somewhat rougher construction, it has to be said - and Carrowmore is simply mind-boggling in extent. But for a 'mountain-head' like me, Carrowkeel really does have it all, the tombs perched upon the Bricklieve Mountains (Breac Shliabh, or 'speckled mountains') overlooking the gorgeous Loch Arrow and possessing a magnificent vista towards the one and only Knocknarea.
Leave the main N4 Sligo road at Castlebaldwin and follow the 'historical trail' (a bit of a misnomer, obviously, since this is a journey into prehistory) roughly southwards, with the cairn-topped Kesh Corran rearing up to your right. The road surface becomes progressively 'rougher', as if to reflect the surrounding landscape, with high limestone cliff faces curiously reminiscent of Northern England, until a sign proclaims that the final kilometer to the cairns is indeed passable by car. Hmm. Perhaps it's something to do with me being a somewhat cynical Anglo Saxon/Celt/and-whatever-else-hybrid, but we decide to walk nonetheless, fearing a touch o' the Blarney stone. Wisely as it transpires, too, although the Aussie kangarooing (ho! ho!) past us in his hire car would probably have disagreed whilst exclaiming 'where's the cairns, dude!'. Last seen careering downhill towards Loch Arrow...... he at least gave us a laugh and, with large cairns seemingly crowning every ridge, may well have stopped me freaking out altogether with a little light relief. No worries, dude.
The very rough approach track terminates at a turning-area-cum-car-park (ha!) from where a short climb brings us to the first monument. To state that the prosaically named 'Cairn G' is a 'good way to begin' is putting it very mildly indeed, the well preserved cairn covering a magnificent cruciform chamber, its solid roof slabs supported upon eight (I think) orthostats. There's more however, for the chambered tomb possesses a 'Newgrange-style' letter-box which apparently allows the setting summer solstice sun to penetrate the chamber on 21st June. This is obviously the reverse of the world famous arrangement at Newgrange, so elevating this tomb into the premier league of Irish passage graves in the process. Oh to be here when that happens!
The next cairn uphill (Cairn H) has sadly collapsed into the chamber, although I can attest it is still possible to crawl down the passageway. Well, a Gladman's gotta do what a Gladman's gotta do, as they say. Cairn K, however, crowns the summit of the northern Bricklieves and is a real beauty, the cruciform chamber within exceedingly well preserved and reached by a long, low entrance passage akin to the great Orcadian tombs. The three pentagonal side chambers are exquiste, the corbelled roof likewise. And if I'm not very much mistaken.... the passage is aligned upon Maeve's Cairn surmounting distant Knocknarea! It's all too much, it really is. No, seriously, because as well as a large cist to the east of the tomb, the ruined 'Cairn L' to the west, and a nearby settlement (no doubt the home of the people who used these tombs?), cairns seem to crown every horizon. As old Irish comedian Frank Carson used to say.... 'And there's more'. Much, much more at Carrowkeel.
Sadly I must leave and who knows, I may never return? But no matter. Carrowkeel will always have me in thrall.
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The magnificent court tomb of Shalwy lies just a couple of hundred yards up the valley from its companion site Croaghbeg, dense vegetation ensuring it remains hidden from all but the most inquisitive - not to mention well informed - passer-by....
http://www.themodernantiquarian.com/site/5377/croaghbeg.html
It is arguably an even more impressive example of the type, being sited upon a small knoll and possessing an additional 'triangular' lintel stone and better defined court. The vibe and sense of place are just as exquisite, the build quality just as good as its near neighbour. These tombs were made to last, you could say. They've certainly stood the test of time.
Note, however, that an approach from Croaghbeg, although short, involves negotiating several barbed-wire fences and very rough, soggy ground. In fact, in retrospect, I would suggest that returning to the road from Croaghbeg and then approaching Shalwy direct would be a less arduous undertaking.
Despite initial appearances from the road above, these two court tombs do not grant personal audiences lightly. Hey, but isn't that always the way with classy ladies?
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It's hard to credit that such ancient structures as Croaghbeg - and its near neighbour Shalwy - can remain in such a state of glorious abandonment in this, the 21st Century! If ever there were a pair of hidden megalithic gems, 'tis these two beauties.
Even armed with one of the recently introduced Irish 1:50K maps, finding the courts tombs is much easier said than done, until two locals on the coastal road confirm the steep northern turn-off does indeed lead towards Gortnagalliagh. Sure enough, after parking near a junction with a rough farm track, I notice two apparent heaps of stone in the deep valley below to my right. Further afield, W.B. Yeats' Benbulben rises beyond the tiny island of Inishduff within Donegal Bay. It is a sensational vista, it really is, and I believe I can make out Knocknarea.
Actually visiting the tombs is also no easy matter, progress down the steep valley side hindered not only by barbed-wire fences (the locals weren't at all perturbed by our visit, it has to be said) and the rough ground underfoot, but by 6ft plus fern rendered soaking wet by a sudden heavy shower. Good job the 'Gladmum' and I elected to wear full waterproofs, then. Seeing the tomb up close and personal for the first time after emerging from the fern cover is something special, almost as if it's actually located within a clearing in the primeval forest or something. Seemingly only missing its capstones, the structure is very well preserved, being solidly constructed of large stones. Having said that, the court itself appears a little poorly defined, although an apparent capstone-less dolmen structure within the court area is a nice additional touch.
A visit to Croaghbeg is a somewhat surreal experience, as if the traveller is granted several hours upon some Lost World plateau where time has stood still. There are no turnstiles, signposts, kissing gates or information boards here, and certainly no tourists to break the spell. Hell, there's nothing at all to interrupt a perfect experience. Except the draw of Croaghbeg's companion tomb, Shalwy, a little up the valley. http://www.themodernantiquarian.com/site/3033/shalwy.html
So why not indeed?
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Of all prehistoric structures it is perhaps the portal tomb which is consistently the most aesthetically pleasing to the modern eye. Whether originally covered by a mound or not(?), the haunting, bare profile of a dolmen/cromlech is guaranteed to set the thought processes a' flowing.... there are squat, powerful ones (e.g. Lligwy), the overwhelmingly massive (e.g. Browne's Hill), the elegant and impossibly fragile (e.g. Pentre Ifan), the downright bonkers (Trethevy Quoit), the cute little ones (Chun Quoit, Maen-y-Bardd) and the classic 'Flintstones' form (Devil's Den). Quite where the Kilclooney More portal fits in to these categories, I don't know. To be honest I think it's in a category of its own. Really, it is that good.
Sure, I'd seen the pictures and this dolmen was the primary reason for the trip to Donegal - although the many court tombs had a little to do with it, I suppose. But little can prepare the visitor for the elegant form, the streamlined contours... and the sheer, well, sensuous femininity of this wonderful structure.
The visit starts in a less than inspiring manner as I park at the 'Dolmen Centre' (oh dear) beside an impossibly yellow church (double-plus oh dear). Hmm. Trying a bit too hard, me-thinks? Anyway, crossing a bridge beside the latter monstrosity, accompanied by a very annoying hound which wants me to play ball, a path leads onto open moorland, the dolmen eventually appearing upon the horizon. Tourists, with their trademark inane assertions, abound, doing little to dispel my distinctly 'underwhelmed' state of mind. 'This had better be good'... Needless to say it is. Very.
The capstone soars upon well proportioned orthostats as if seemingly made of balsa and liable to float away into space any second, the whole sculpture so incredibly well balanced it takes the breath away. Surely this capstone was always meant to be seen? Further inspection reveals a near 360 degree sweep of mountains upon the horizon and a smaller chamber - seemingly the real thing and not a folly - behind the main event. Hmm, were both after all covered by a single cairn? More questions than answers, a particularly knowledgeable American tourist then going on to torpedo another of my cherished stereotypes. Are you listening to me, boy?
I leave this wonderful site for the nearby ruined court tomb.....
http://www.themodernantiquarian.com/site/5332/kilclooney_more.html
.....thinking that, quite possibly, this is the finest dolmen in these Isles.
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Showing 1-50 of 1,266 posts. Most recent first | Next 50
A long time Cope fan from Essex who discovered 'the Great Outdoors' at about the same time M'lud Yatesbury put out Jehovahkill..... some time back, then. Got into the 'stones' - and generally all prehistoric stuff - through stumbling [sometimes literally] into them when out and about on the Welsh hills... usually in the pouring rain ..... and thinking, 'you know, perhaps the Drude's actually onto something with all those crazy sleeve notes?' Perhaps... so it was the ancient mountain-top cairns you must cite as the origin of a prolonged case of 'Gladmania', for better or worse. I hope it's the latter....
I've travelled extensively around Britain and Ireland ever since in an ongoing attempt to try and determine - at first hand - the relationship these magical, hauntingly evocative places have with the human psyche. Why do they possess such a fascination for some, yet are dismissed as 'piles of old stones' by others? Why are TMA-ers like myself not satisfied with the proverbial 'beach holiday in Benidorm?' It would appear the reasons are multiplex, but I would cite stunning scenery, close encounters with wildlife, the appreciation of exquisite forms of sculpture and the sheer joie de vivre of experiencing nature head on - whilst attempting to understand our own fleeting role in the tapestry of time - as ample reward for those willing to brave a little discomfort. Hey, you even have to exercise the grey matter a little and can write about it afterwards.
The onset of dodgy knees - it happens to us all in the end - has meant you're just as likely to find me hanging out within a 'circle than upon a summit cairn these days. But I still have my moments....... having said that, I make no special claim for my contributions. My images are scans of prints (pending a long resisted, but inevitable move into digital) and I'm certainly no more than a very amateur, albeit enthusiastic, field archaeologist. So please forgive (and kindly correct) the occasional error and I'll do my best to avoid any lapse into trendy 'New Ageism', which I believe not only be-littles the immense physical achievements of our ancestors, but also mis-represents the manner in which they related to their surroundings in a metaphysical sense, too. Suffice to say if I can add a little to the enormous efforts of everyone else, help celebrate these marvellous places throughout these marvellous islands of ours and hopefully make myself a better human being in the process... that'll do for me.
So cheers... to Mr Cope for being his inspirational, confrontational self, showing that field archaeology can be FUN! - hey, who'd have thought it? ...to my sister for being the living incarnation of Mam Cymru, using her female 'macro' vision to help me see the detail throughout an ongoing re-exploration of the South Walian uplands... to my own mam for insisting 'young men should have adventures'.... my Dad for inspiring a profound love of high places with tales of climbing Snowdon 'in Jack's old shoes'... and to Aubrey for simply being 'The Man'. You know who I'm talking about!
Some of Gladman's other 'inspirations' include:
George Orwell, Charles Darwin, Michael Collins, Karen Matheson, Will Shakespeare, Winston Churchill, Martin Gore, Richard Dawkins, William Wilberforce, Shane MacGowan, Sophie Scholl, (the one and only) W A Mozart, Manic Street Preachers, Pat Jennings, King Harold II (what a difference half an hour or so would have made!), Gromit, Hugh Dowding/Keith Park and 'The Few', Marc Almond, Stan Laurel and Oliver Hardy, Kurt Gerstein, Harvey Milk, John Le Mesurier (perhaps the coolest man ever?), Ralf Hutter and Florian Schneider, Jeremy Brett, Scooby and Shaggy..... and ...last but not least, Belfast musician Jake Burns for hollering the line 'Question everything you're told!' into my teenage ears. Sound advice, indeed, my friend.
The call is unspoken, never unheard.
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