Iron age village, and some abbey ruins

Inside an iron age replica home.

2400 years ago, in the Iron Age, folks lived on a piece of land now known as Castell Henllys in southwestern Wales.  It's been reconstructed in situ, based on the growing body of knowledge about the Iron Age, and allows for a hands-on/head-in experience of life in an Iron Age village. 

One approaches the village through heavy woods near a stream, going by really odd looking "heritage" livestock, typical of the animals that would've been kept during the Iron Age.  

Cresting the hill of the iron age village.

The hill on which the fort was built was surrounded by a defensive berm, and an herb garden, and had this giant straw guy standing at the entrance (on the far right, above).  He was ready for the Beltane Festival (early June) when he'd be burned.  Burning Man in Wales.  Not an inconsiderable danger to the architecture of the time.

Then we saw the adorable village -- the Hershey folks should be able to use this somehow.  All thatched roofs, each unique and pretty cute.

Their granary building was off the ground, with good circulation so bugs and critters wouldn't be such a problem.   It was much smaller than the others.

This one was newly reroofed, standing about 30 feet in diameter.

Some of the thatched roofs were slanty. 

This one had a fire inside all the time, for visitors to see, smell, and it showed in its toasty top and slight droopiness.

Another straw guy was inside one of the houses, ready for the festival --has to emerge before he gets to flame.

Inside seemed pretty snug and spacious, but obviously lacked privacy.

Looking up at the roofing structure.

Most of what would have been excellent Roman Catholic churches in England were trashed by Henry VIII and protestant reformists in the 1500s.  I'll simplify this bit of history radically:  Henry VIII needed money for his wars and needed an heir (hence a new wife or 6 of them) and many of the English folks were tired of the catholic church's indulgences, excesses and money-grubbing (hence open to change).  The pope wasn't willing to reconsider (for lots of reasons) so Henry pretty much lightened the churches' treasuries, then sacked and removed important stuff (even removing the lead from the windows, useful for war) and set himself up as basically Britain's new pope, head of the still Roman Catholic church.  Lots of folks then helped themselves to the great supply of stones available at the abandoned abbeys for other building projects.  So lots of excellent, majestic ruins all over Britain.

We both like the ruins; somehow they have a more evocative, ethereal feel than the actual churches.  Tintern Abbey is just inside the Welsh border, near Chepstow north of the River Severn.

                                  

We both found the ruins to be delightfully peaceful, and lovely, moreso than so many of the churches we've been in.

The right door has a mini-me door cut into it.  Aww.  

Photographers heaven -- it was fun to watch the real photographers here.