Walking amongst the barrows

If you stand at the bottom of the chalk downland at Therfield Heath just west of Royston in Hertfordshire and look due south, the distinctive profile of five Bronze Age bowl barrows or tumuli stand out on the skyline as they have since they were created some 3,000 years ago. Preserved presumably because the thin covering of soil on the chalk and the severity of the slopes made farming unviable.

It's only when you learn of similar barrows that have been ploughed flat in our home parish and hear anecdotal evidence of farmers who remember feeling a slight rise in the ground as they trailed their equipment over earth once marked on old maps as the location of tumili, that you realise just how remarkable it is that any survive at all.

This week, as ever, I appreciated the benefit of the terriers towing me up a hill husky-like. To be fair, Gracie and Boomer could work up a frenzy of excitement in any field, but there is always an added piquancy to the chance to climb a tumuli mound and (in their case) interrogate with their noses just who and what has been there in the days before them. I can't walk amongst barrows without thinking of those who were there in the Bronze Age. It's something about the certainty that our ancestors gathered in this place and interred the remains of their relatives.

The group of Bronze Age mounds are wonderful, but for the observant visitor there is more interest nearby in the presence of a Neolithic Long Barrow 100yards further to the south at the very top of the hill. This lies amongst the fairways of the golf course that snakes across the heath. Keeping a wary eye out for golfers and errant shots, we cross the tightly cropped grass to find the distinctive low profile of the older barrow resting undisturbed in the rough.

Whilst well outside Iceni Territory, we first visited Therfield Heath at Royston while exploring the route of the Icknield Way for the book. It's a remarkable place and dogs or no dogs, always worth the climb if only to appreciate the view across the Hertfordshire countryside and the line of the old Roman Road running north east. Today, in January the wind chill persuades us to leave the barrows and the view behind and beat a retreat in search of hot chocolate.