Currently I'm staying at the oppidum (late Iron Age settlement), Bibracte located on Mt-Beuvray. Went up to the Brit-Yank-Deutsch site on Tuesday, which is near the Source de l’Yonne (source is French for 'spring'). Viewed their area briefly, which appears to be a small industrial area. Laura, one of the Brit leaders, said I should “go up the road a bit” and have a look at the Source because “it is quite lovely.” As I wandered up the road, I wondered how far “a bit” was and also how so much horse poop got here. The latter was answered in a few moments when I saw a horse farm. The former was a bit more ambiguous.
Across from the farm was a staked off circular area with a sign out front and tall grasses inside. There was also a silhouetted sculpture/outline of a man holding a stick in the shape of a wishbone – used for finding water. I read the French signs and looked at the maps and pictures, which were about the rivers the source contributed to and waterfalls, streams, etc. I entered the circle expecting to find a small pool or stream, but only saw a small boulder and grasses.
“Strange,” I thought, “maybe I’ll follow the road up a bit into the woods to see if there is something else up there…” After wandering down a road through the woods for a good 15 minutes, dogging beehives and trying to listen for water, I found two small signs maybe 2 ½ by 2 ½ inches big, each with a hand holding the water-finding stick. One pointed to the way I just came while the other pointed the opposite way saying essentially that was the way to the parking lot. “Well, the unmarked one must point to the source, I guess I’ll go back…” I retreated the way I came.
I returned to where I began and instead of going right, I went to the left this time following the “wish-stick” signs. These little markers led me past a house, then quickly up the hill/mountain full of trees and a soft floor of fallen leaves. I wanted to find the source, so I made this trip as briskly as possible. I climbed, zigged, zagged, stopped to catch my breath, contemplated the elevation because I was out of breath quite quickly, repeated steps 1 through 3 several times over, tripped once, yawned several dozen times, wondered where this damn source was thinking “its strange that it would be so high…”
The path began to descend and I thought, “If I have to climb up this again to get back I will one grouchy archaeologist…” I continued my descent with more zigging and sagging, wondering if this route was made because it is faster for getting to the source than walking around the hill, and also wondering if the water at the source was drinkable…if I’d have known I needed to hike to the source I would have brought some water… As I rounded a curve and descended I noticed I was coming to a road-like path…without a “wish-stick” sign telling me where to continue. I looked right, nothing. I looked left…and saw two small signs, one pointing to the right and the other to the left where I could find the parking lot! Yup, I was standing where I was an hour before.
Don’t remember the exact obscenity(ies) that came from my mouth, but I walked the 15 minutes out of the woods, dogged the bees once again and hoped that I hadn’t actually missed the source after all that. I returned to the circular place again, read the signs again, looked again, but still no water. “Maybe they plugged it with the boulder…?” I admitted defeat and wandered back to the excavation area after over 1.5 hours of accidental hiking.
The excavators asked what I thought when I arrived, saying they found it pretty disappointing themselves… “Where was it!??!?” I asked. “Underground in that circular grassy area. Did you feel it moving under your feet?” All I felt was soft, but not wet ground… It was right under my nose (and feet) the entire time.
No comments:
Post a Comment