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I’m following Google Maps.

The blue line is a thinning footpath hugging the outside of Cabinteely Park. On my right, the park’s high boundary wall. On my left, a thin, two-way road. Beyond the road, high gates and tree lined driveways and well kept houses.

I grew up close to here. Not on embassy road as we used to call it; in a large housing estate of 1980s new-builds on the far side of the park.

Continue on Brennanstown Road for one kilometre.

With the angle of the road and the wall, you can’t see much ahead. It’s an issue when the path disappears. People don’t walk here; they drive or are driven. Worried the low afternoon sun will obscure me, I cross the road. There isn’t a path there either but at least I’ll see the car before it hits me.

I’m looking for the Glendruid Dolmen. It’s a protected national monument dating from around 4000bce and is regarded as one of the finest portal tombs in Ireland. I’ve never seen it. I only read about it a week ago. I found it while scanning the two-kilometre radius of places I’ve lived. The corner sharpens. I pass the high stone wall and locked iron gate of the boarded up Glendruid House. I’m close.

I need to take the next left but its a private home. There must be a low wall or a trail path for pedestrians. I keep walking and find high, ivy covered walls and roadkill but no obvious access points. Google Maps wants me to turn left but there is a wall there. I retrace the continuous blue line.

Continue on Brennanstown Road.

White walls greening toward the bottom. A small black plaque with DOLMEN HOUSE in gold lettering. Beyond the blue line, a string of small blue dots. They trace an invisible path through the two pillars, part way up the loose stone driveway and into a thicket. I can’t see more than that but I know the glen is there. Further up the driveway, there is a house. It looks lived in but there’s no car and no signs of anyone around. I could knock in and ask if they know the best way to the dolmen. Or I could try make my way without going near the house. Later, I’ll read reviews that will highlight this dilemma.

You would think with it being a supposed national monument, that they would make a proper access point to it.

it’s stuck in the middle of nothing. Full of mosquitoes.

Private land so ask for permission.

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*** How do you get to it??? ***

Extremy (sic) difficult to get to

I don’t want to trespass

so you need to make sure you have permission

but forgiveness is easier to ask for.

Crossing the drive to the thicket, the loose stones underfoot seem obnoxiously loud.

Nice place to visit. Not wheelchair friendly.

Progress is blocked by a mix of brambles, nettles and weeds netting the trees. I walk up the driveway to find an easier way down. The house is smaller than I thought. More modern than Glendruid House down the road. A detached, two-story, picture-book shape with cream coloured walls and a triangular cap of moss-dappled red roof tile. There are no lights on but that isn’t a comfort.

Permission must be a aught from the land owner for any access to the Dolmen

I cut into a thin trail that brings me down the glen a little. I can’t see the house but I’m sure they can hear me. The crack of wood underfoot and the scrape of brambles against my trousers and jacket are hard to mask.

the “path” down is a steephill (sic) with no real trail or anything to grab onto

A third of the way down, the glen and the track comes to a sudden end. An old swing hangs from a pine tree. The rope is frayed, the wooden seat rotted, but through the overhanging branches I can see a clearing and my first glimpse of the dolmen.

Historical thing in my living area, quite cool!

Wow.

Nice.

Ok.

The most prominent part is the capstone. Estimated to weigh fifty tonnes, it’s a five-meter long granite wedge that sits on four sunken granite stones. The area around it is a mixture of grass and mud. It looks like it acts as a flood plane when the stream beyond the opposite tree line overflows.

I advise bringing wellies and a walking stick!

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I have to back track a little. I stumble. Then again.

you have to be quite agile and have good reach to get down

I climb awkwardly over a fallen tree and make my way to a trail leading down.

the area has recently been cleared

of brambles etc and now in wide open clearing

It’s quiet. Snippets of bird song, wind in trees, the din of a small waterfall upstream. The ground feels waterlogged in patches. With the steep rising banks, it sits in a kind of amphitheatre at the bottom of the glen.

Beautiful pristine spot with ancient deciduous woods, including beech, all around.

Soon to be destroyed by developers

From the side, the sharp angle of the capstone is clear. Aligned east-west and supported by two large portal stones, the front where the capstone is at its widest wedge is almost two metres thick. I imagine a group of people manoeuvre this large stone into place six thousand years ago. Running along the surface of the capstone is two thin, smooth grooves where rain water and time have warn a path in the granite. Droplets hang from the underside, quietly dropping on the moss covered stone beneath. Some of the support stones lean heavily, broken under years of stress. Elsewhere

slight restoration

work done to keep the capstone in place.

There is no direct dating evidence for this particular portal tomb so unknown and so hard to access but it is of a type that were generally built around the early to middle Neolithic period or ‘New Stone Age’ by farming communities that were becoming established throughout the island. They replaced the hunter gatherer groups that first colonised post-glacial Ireland around 4,000 years earlier. This early farming period was characterised by a new tool kit of distinctive stone tools; flint arrow heads, polished stone axes, pottery. They introduced cereals and domesticated animals that became the dominant food source and the basis for a new economy of trade and social exchange.

A very special place, please respect it and our ancestors.

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To the rear, two entrance stones lead into a central chamber. From the outside it looks cramped, and dark. Once I pass the entrance stones the floor dips and angle of the supporting stones helps to open up the space. Inside, the noise of the stream and the trees disappears. I remember the sense of something I read on the Glendruid Forum.

Outstanding example of a megalithic Dolmen which is situated on private land

I sit. I notice a little tear on my jacket and start to feel the bruises and scrapes from my trip down.

A rough trail, but so worth it!

I look at the light. Low and warm on the blue-grey stone, sharpening and defusing with the passing clouds and remember the dog’s hair gathering strands of light at the bottom of the stairs, the yellow garden fence’s morning wash of the bedroom wall, sharp evening light on the landing wall, the kitchen table as the pear tree draws on the wall with afternoon sun.

I have arrived but home is where I want to be and this

Ancient Spiritual

wondrous discovery

is not the place

[yellow smiley face] Google maps is a (sic) excellent guide.

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Eoghan Carrick is an artist based in Dublin, Ireland. As a writer, he’s had work in the Belfield Literary Review and the 2023 edition of The Stony Thursday Book. He was selected for the 2022 Irish Writers Centre National Mentoring Programme and a 2023 DLRCC Emerging Artist Bursary. View a range of current and past projects at www.eoghancarrick.com.