I walked the Giant’s Grave and Clyne Common route on a cool winter morning, when the sky was pale and the ground carried the damp of recent rain. The drive up through Mayals was quiet, and parking near the entrance to Clyne Common was simple enough, with a few roadside spaces free. Boots on, coat zipped, and gloves pulled tight, I set out across the open ground.
The first impression of Clyne Common is its openness. Low gorse and rough grass stretched in every direction, the kind of landscape where the wind has nothing to stop it. The path was faint in places, little more than a trodden line through the scrub, but navigation was straightforward with the ridge of higher ground always visible ahead.
The ground was soft and wet in patches, my boots sinking slightly with each step. After the first half mile, the damp had already left its mark — mud clinging to the laces and splashing up the trousers.
The burial mound itself came into view as a raised hump on the horizon. Known as the Giant’s Grave, it is a Bronze Age feature, unremarkable at first glance but striking for its position. From the mound, the views stretched across Swansea Bay to the east and over Gower’s ridges to the west. The wind was strong here, enough to make me turn my back to it while taking a drink from the flask.
Standing there, it wasn’t hard to picture why this spot had been chosen — a place to command a view in every direction.
From the mound, I continued further across the common. The terrain undulated, never steep but uneven enough to keep the pace measured. Pools of standing water reflected the grey sky, and in places the path disappeared entirely into boggy ground, forcing small detours. A group of dog walkers crossed my route at one point, their boots as muddy as mine, all of us laughing at the state of the ground.
The sense of space was constant. With no woodland cover and only the occasional gorse bush, the walk felt exposed and raw.
Looping back, the route followed a broader track that cut through the heart of the common. The footing was easier here, though still wet in places. The final stretch dropped gently back toward the road, the traffic noise slowly returning after the quiet of the heath.
Back at the car, I sat briefly with the flask for a final drink before heading off, grateful for the heater once I started the engine.
The Giant’s Grave and Clyne Common walk is less about dramatic features and more about atmosphere. It’s open, exposed, and shaped by the weather. The burial mound adds a thread of history to an otherwise simple heathland route, while the views remind you how close Swansea and Gower sit together. It’s not a technical walk, but it leaves a lasting impression of scale and solitude.
– **Distance**: Around 3–4 miles (circular).
– **Weather**: Cool winter morning, overcast with strong winds.
– **Terrain**: Rough grass, boggy patches, uneven tracks.
– **Parking**: Limited roadside spaces near Clyne Common.
– **Gear**: Waterproof boots, warm coat, gloves, flask for warmth.
