North of Criccieth on the B4411 is the little village of Rhoslan, blink and you’ll miss it, at the southern end of the village there is a small lane with a bridle path sign leading east. Park here. The burial chamber is ahead through a gate on the left side of the field. (following this path leads to Ystumcegid dolmen eventually, but I don’t recommend that route)
Like nearby Caer Dyni I haven’t been here for over a decade, my memory of it is one of slight disappointment, perhaps due to seeing all the better examples first, or maybe it was the way one side is too open, as if a couple of uprights had been taken away.
But my new memories of it are those of best site of the day, nay, star of the day. We got to quite a few sites today, one was just a pile of stones, one was just a stone, didn’t find another, and another was basically just a lean to, they all had something great about them but right here right now Cefn Isaf is just what the doctor ordered.
A great big, it has to be said, axe like capstone held neatly aloft on strong thick legs, the stream running by very closely, swallows skimming for flies, a dog walking couple go by and the sun streams down upon me. Next to the stream up and down from the chamber are a number of large stones one a big round boulder another is a large flat stone, I wondered if the stream had always been there. Eric had elected to stay and wait in the car, but I was at such peace sitting comfortably in the chamber looking out at the bucolic scene, like a tranced out football coach in his dugout, that when he appeared round the corner and into the chamber I was fair startled, jumped and almost bumped my head, bloody kids, always sneaking about the place. We sat silently for a while, him between my feet, sharing the view, then he stated his need for a number two and can we go now.
Yes, yes we can.