JDMcDsblog

Had the opportunity to take a short trip up to Kilmartin today. North of Lochgilphead, Kilmartin lies at the heart of a remarkable prehistotic landscape of standing stones, cup and ring marks, hill forts, as well as relicts of the Pictish and Medieval past. It is akin to the significant landscape of Wessex, in the south of England and is certainly a region of national importance in the archaeology of the British Isles and Europe. It has been a long time since I last wandered among the slabs and graevstones of the local church-1980, when I was in First Year at Glasgow studying archaology. Not much has changed, indeed “timeless” may be the most suitable word to use. As always when you return to a place after a long absence, its immediate familiarity jolts you back in time with the instance of selecting a favourite track on a CD. There is no meandering chronology of intervening years and events to negotiate en route. I remember Dunadd, the hill that rises out of the broad, flood plain of the River Add, capital of Dalriada. Today it is a forlorn place, grey with driving rain, extensive pools of water in the marshy lowland; inscribed stones pointing into the mist, cattle grazing nearby and gulls and crows wheeling in the gusts coming off the sea. Bedraggled, but smiling tourists clamber into a steaming minibus, while the rain harshens. But the coffee and home baking at the museum are delightful, and there is time to browse the books on geology, history, wildlife and admire the art work on the stone walls. I leave, but feel I’d like to come back.