This was it. This was a big deal. I was going to Carnac. I was going to see those alignments I’d read about in Mary Stewart’s books.
The plan was to spend a few days in Dublin to see friends, then take the ferry to Brittany, tool around there for a week, then return to Ireland.
Ireland
We headed down to spend a few days in west Cork before taking the ferry from Cobh to St. Malo in France. We stayed with our friend Noreen again and had several very memorable adventures. I’ll do my best to stay focused on megalithic monuments here, but I’ll tell about one or two highlights in Blather.
Proleek dolmen and wedge tomb
This sweet mushroom was on the grounds of a golf course. People put stones on top of dolmens the same way they put stones on top of gravestones.
Nearby was this very nice wedge tomb on the grounds of a swanky hotel.
Five Fingers
We checked in on some old favorites and tracked down some new ones.
Altar wedge tomb
Three Castle Head
It was getting late and the sun was low in the sky by the time we got to this location. It was not easy to find, but luckily a farmer pointed the way for us. We had to climb over several good-sized hills, just hoping we were going the right direction. Then finally we came to the crest of a big hill, and there it was.
This is an isthmus, what is essentially an island connected to the mainland by a narrow neck of land, much like Tintagel in Cornwall. The three towers and curtain wall were built across the neck, which was flanked by a boggy marsh on one side and sheer cliffs on the other. The bog was dammed up at the far right edge, which created a little lake. No doubt there were sharp rocks set in place under the surface of the water. If I’d had one more photo, you could see the sheer drop-off over to the left. You can just barely see the edge of it in the lower left corner.
It was the last bastion of the once-powerful O’Mahony family, driven west and south by rival clans and Henry II’s Normans from England. Eventually after 400 years it was confiscated by the British. Like everything else.
As I was standing there gobsmacked looking down at this incredible sight, I lifted my camera — and realized I only had two shots left on my film — and had not brought along a spare roll. WHAT A DISASTER. So I got these two shots and did my best to lock the whole image into my memory.
The walls and structures are drystone masonry, as usual. Parts were crumbling and unstable, yet still holding up after 900 years standing. We had a good look around, but it was getting dark and we had to find our way back over those hills to the car, so we didn’t tarry. (No, of course we had not brought a flashlight.)
This would be in my Top 10 List of the coolest things I’ve ever seen in my life. I have resisted the impulse to google it; no doubt it’s been touristized. I can’t blame anybody for trying to make a living from the relentless bucket listers clamoring around the world these days, but I hope it hasn’t got a parking lot with a McDonald’s now.
Brittany
I won’t be able to resist including a few non-megalithic pix here. It’s impossible to leave them out. So buckle your seatbelt.
Also, by way of terminology: in Brittany a standing stone is a menhir, a dolmen is a cromlech, and a passage tomb is a tumulus.
We took the ferry from Cobh (outside of Cork City) to St. Malo. Ferry departed at midnight-ish, arrived at St. Malo around dusk of the following day, so I guess around 16 hours. The ferry was nice, the weather not bad, our little room tiny, but the crossing was fine.
The old part of St. Malo is still surrounded by its medieval walls, a beautiful city. Could have spent several days there. We drove east to see Mont St. Michel, which is of course mind-bogglingly cool.
Mont St. Michel
I wonder what climate change is doing there. They might end up building walls along the road. Or maybe it will turn into an island again.
Mont St. Michel is on the ley line that runs across England into France, with all the “Michael” names. St. Michael is apparently associated with high places. Before I was done, I would visit quite a few of these.
It’s also on the boundary between Brittany and Normandy; if we’d had a few more days, I would have gone to see some of the WWII beaches and cemeteries on the Normandy coast, and the Bayeux tapestry. But we had a date with some big stones and so we pulled ourselves away and headed south and west.
Menhir de Champ Dolent
Carnac lies on the southern side of the Breton peninsula and is crowded with Neolithic and Bronze age monuments and sites. But it’s not just Carnac: megaliths can be found all over Brittany. We drove past this beauty on the road.
It’s about 31 feet tall and who knows how deep it’s set into the earth. Champ Dolent means Field of Sorrow. I was delighted that it was surrounded by cornfields.
Carnac
Carnac is just one town among many, but the largest alignments fall within its boundaries so it’s a convenient label. The sea snakes in and out between points of land, and the whole area is dotted with little islands. You come around a corner and boom, there is the sea again. The land is rough, flattish, and rocky with woodsy areas and rugged hills.
It’s crazy where names come from. The story is some guy visited the area a long time ago and decided the megaliths were erected by the same people who built the stuff in Egypt, and so gave it this name.
Most of the megaliths here date from between 4500-3300 BCE. We could only manage to see a fraction of what was there. Plus you’d be driving down the road looking for X and you’d pass Y and just have to stop cuz there it was! For a megalith lover, it was an embarrassment of riches.
Tumulus de St. Michel
This is the largest passage tomb in continental Europe, so enormous you’d never guess it was manmade: 400 feet long, 160 feet wide, and 30 feet tall. Of course, there’s a church on top of it. We were not able to go inside. I don’t know if you can now.
Quiberon standing stones
Quiberon is a long, narrow peninsula that sticks out into the sea. It’s called the Côte Sauvage (Wild Coast) and is just a few feet above sea level. A whole bunch of standing stones are dotted along its length like sentinels.
St. Pierre cromlech
This is what’s left of a huge stone circle which encloses a tennis court today. It’s also known as the Kerbougnec cromlech.
It’s so entertaining to see the way people incorporate these ancient stones into their everyday life!
Menec alignments
There are several areas where these long ranks of standing stones take over the countryside. In those days there were no drones, so we could only imagine a bird’s eye view of this sight. Here is an image from a postcard to show you how it looks to a passing seagull.
Here’s a slideshow of the Menec alignments.
Bear in mind, many of the stones have been destroyed, removed, and in some cases rearranged or replaced. In spite of dozens of centuries of human mishandling, there they still are. So much time has passed, the actual landscapes have changed, no doubt; the courses of streams might have changed, climate has shifted, and yet the stones ride the waves of time and persist.
One theory says these stones were not erected by Neolithic people (who were farmers); instead these are said to date from the Mesolithic era, meaning the people who built them were hunter-gatherers who didn’t even live in fixed communities. This means some roaming bands of hunters somehow got themselves organized to come together to construct this complex and massive engineering project. What kind of shared belief systems would be powerful enough to motivate them? We can only wonder.
Petit Kermario alignments
Kermario alignments
This one was fenced off and had a big wooden viewing platform. I understand and support the efforts to protect the stones. We encountered this all over — the tension between wanting to see and be in things, versus the inevitability of damage that would result. I’d happily sign a legal form promising to not touch anything.
Kermario cromlech
Kercado tumulus
It was constructed around 4600 BC and was used for 3000 years. Notice the standing stone on top. Originally it was surrounded by a circle of standing stones, only a few of which are left.
Obviously we have no way of knowing how the land looked back then, but I absolutely love these places hidden away in the woods.
Gavrinis
You have to take a boat out to this little island, but back when it was built, the sea was lower so it was connected to the mainland.
It was constructed between 4200-4000 BCE, but was abandoned and deliberately hidden around 3000 BCE. Why? Maybe newcomers were defacing or desecrating the local holy places and the residents wanted to protect it. Seems like it worked because it is still breathtaking all these years later.
I don’t know why I took so few pictures of the outside. This is the only one I have.
The capstone in the central chamber is enormous, 17 tons, and was originally part of one giant stone which broke into three parts. The other two parts now form the capstones in two other local passage tombs (see Table des Marchands below). Get this: originally that stone would have been 46 feet tall.
The carvings on the stones that line the passage are the most elaborate and detailed decoration I’ve ever seen at any of these places. The only thing comparable is Newgrange.
They don’t let you take pictures inside, of course, and you must go with a tour group, so you’re shepherded in and out on a schedule. When we arrived, they were closing up in 20 minutes so naturally we had to get on that last boat back to town. Still, it was a glorious day and a magical location. I could have spent all day here.
In Mary Stewart’s book The Crystal Cave, young Merlin observes some kind of ritual conducted on an island just off shore here. I like to think it was Gavrinis.
Further reinforcing my fantasies, a carving on the underside of the capstone could be interpreted as a bull. Neolithic art is not generally representational and would have predated Mithraism by many centuries, but then again, who knows?
Toulvern dolmen
This was probably originally a tumulus but over time the mound disappeared and the dolmen is kind of a mess. It’s difficult to visualize its original condition. They often reused stones to build new monuments, so maybe this one was disassembled and this is all that was left behind.
La Table des Marchands
This dolmen was well known locally, translated as Table of the Merchants. No doubt it was a convenient place to meet up to sell your sheep or have a picnic. Here’s what it looked like until 1993:
Instead we saw this:
I had no idea they were undertaking a reconstruction. We were not allowed to wander around the outside, but could go inside.
The first construction at the site was dated to 4500 BCE, with the construction of the dolmen inside around 3000 BCE, reusing stones that had already been decorated. This 40-ton capstone was originally part of the same giant menhir as the capstone at Gavrinis. That menhir would have included the capstone of the neighboring Er Grah passage tomb plus a small piece that is missing.
Like Gavrenis, this tumulus has some very elaborate and distinctive decorations on the interior slabs. The largest at the back of the inner chamber had these shapes arranged on it. My picture at the left gives no real idea, so here’s something from the interwebs to the right.
Some people describe this as a shepherd’s crook, a crozier shape, or a corn/wheat shaft, but who knows? The capstone has several carvings, including one that resembles the cattle you see in prehistoric cave paintings.
Le Grand Menhir Brisé
Nearby is this fallen, broken menhir (the Great Broken Menhir). Originally it would have been about 75 feet tall. They think it was once part of a whole group of menhirs on this site, most of which stood for only a couple hundred years and then were intentionally taken down. Many were reused elsewhere. This one may have been broken deliberately or maybe it was damaged while they were raising it or bringing it down. This picture doesn’t do it justice at all.
Carry on now with 1993-2. Click here. See ya there.