Bush bashing to the Giant's Grave

All our Lagavulin colleagues stared at us.

"What the heck is bush bashing?"

By now we had an inkling that there were certain Aussie phrases which, when held up to the light, sounded a wee bit odd or inappropriately sexual to non-Australians. I won't even mention the chips vs crisps debate...

So we had to explain that bush bashing is when you go hiking in overgrown areas and you have to 'bash' your way through. And we had received an unexpected lesson in bush bashing on the way to see the Giant's Grave.

Big Bessie has been having trouble getting out of bed in the morning (i.e., just won't start!) so we found the only mechanic on the island who could handle a vehicle her size. Luckily for us, Ben from Portnahaven was able to squeeze in time for a service and a once-over. We hadn't yet explored that side of the island, and, having an unknown quantity of time to kill, we decided to set off on a bit of an adventure and seek out the nearby places of interest.

The closest option was the Cultoon Stone Circle, constructed in the late Neolithic and early Bronze Age, circa 2000 BC. Many of the stones were laying on the ground, having never been erected. The circle was wide enough that it most likely would have held large ceremonial gatherings. Scotland is pretty special in that it has so many of these incredibly old monuments that anybody can just walk up to and touch - in Australia, this would be behind a fence!

(And sorry ladies, Jamie Fraser did not appear out of any of the stones. I tried each one, just to be sure 😉)

After that, we went in search of the Giant's Grave. Although it was listed in Google maps as a 'place', there were no photos online of it and no roads that lead directly there. Intrigued and up for a challenge, we were lucky to find out that Ben was fine with us hiking across his farm in search of this one tiny spot on a map. His dogs followed us every step of the way, sniffing the adventure in the air. We eventually had to get Ben to come retrieve them as we were worried they would hurt themselves attempting to follow us the whole way.

The journey took us bush-bashing through hip-high fern gullies, up and down Beinn Tart a'Mhill at 232m/761ft high and deep into an overgrown spooky forest. It was basically the setting for most horror films that take place in a deserted forest. Ooh, what was that sound? A deer fleeing in the opposite direction. Are we sure we're going in the right direction, this looks quite overgrown... Hang on, is that a dead deer behind those trees?? At this point we really started to question why we were trusting in Google so much...

Google maps seemed to show a wide clearing area, but the pin for the Giant's Grave was deeper into the forest. We passed through the clearing and some interesting rocks to head into the forest. Alex spotted a semi-cleared opening, leading to long rows of pine trees overgrown with moss. That was where the confusion began.

"Well, Google says we're here." We both looked around. Nope. A whole lotta trees and no grave.

"Maybe further in?"

We continue our bush-bashing by breaking off dead branches to stop them from scratching us as we ventured further into the forest.

"Oh, now it says we've gone too far..."

"Are there any photos of it anywhere online?"

one quick Google search later...

"Ok, it must be in that clearing area, and the pin is in the wrong place..."

We scrambled back through the bush to the clearing, back across the long grass and past the dead deer, before we stumbled upon those aforementioned large rocks.

"Um, I think this is it."

Biggest. Anti-climax. Ever.

So here you go folks; the Neolithic chambered cairn (burial tomb) of Slochd Measach, or 'Giant's Grave', from 3800-3500 BC. And you didn't even have to go bush-bashing to see it 😉

(And any future tourists to to the site - I think there are other sites on Islay that are more interesting and easier to access. There are rumours that the farmer whose land we had to pass through to get back to the road likes to greet tourists with a shotgun...)

We returned to Bessie, having decided we'd bashed enough bushes for one day!