As we were driving towards the southern end of Cornwall, I spied a brown sign, one of those that indicates a historical site. Carn Euny, it said.We turned into the lane and it was truly the narrowest of any of the roads we'd been on so far. The hedges scratched the car on both sides and towered over us as we drove along. Rain was threatening, no doubt blown in by that strong wind we experienced at Hell's Mouth.
I don't know how to describe this path. The gardens on each side are huge, tall, extensive and maintained by one man who lives in a stone house at the path's beginning. I have never seen 20-foot tall blue hydrangeas before!
The path to the carn led over this stone stile.
And then, in the middle of a pasture field, we were there:
Larry exploring one of the tunnels.
I went through as well. So intriguing, so full of mystery. Who built it? Why underground like this? For protection against attack, or from the weather?
Then we found the entrance to an underground circular hut.
Inside it was dry and comfortable--the rain had started so we settled down to eat our lunch.
I wondered, who last touched this stone? How long ago? Did they live here or was this larger space a communal gathering place? Was the fireplace for heat or ritual burning?
We could see the sun had broken through so we finished our lunch and headed back outside.
Standing just above the village, trying to get a photo of the layout of the place.
Next post: the secret artist.
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