It is one of Wales’ most enchanting locations and a visit will leave you captivated
Enchanting, eerie, endangered(Image: Jo Ridout, WalesOnline)
My annual birthday treat of telling my family they have to go where I want to go came around fast this year. I was well prepared because I have wanted to visit arguably Wales’ most famous and enchanting heritage site for decades.
I have marvelled at it as it peeked through the trees, I have passed it in the car and ogled it, and I have walked past it on a riverside walk wishing I could visit – but this year it was going to happen.
Blackmailed by the promise of a yummy pub supper, the family piled into the car and we set sail down a soggy, rain-soaked M4 to one of the most magical places I think Wales has to offer – the Wye Valley. Find out where I forced the family to go last year here.
As you wander, slowly, down the winding road that descends into the valley, between the dense foliage and tree-tops, you catch a glimpse of a site that, even in its romantic ruinous state, will take your breath away with its magnificence. It’s easily captivated poets, authors and famous artists such as Turner into creating some of their best work; it’s Tintern Abbey.
The abbey is, quite rightly in my opinion, described by Cadw as a national icon and its history is long and detailed. It was funded in 1131 by Cistercian monks but its first incarnation was just as a complex of timber buildings.
The site dates back to 1131(Image: Jo Ridout, WalesOnline)
Cadw states that a simple stone church and cloisters came later and then, thanks to the patronage of wealthy Marcher lords, the white-robed monks began to think bigger. In 1269 they began to build a new abbey church and didn’t stop until they’d created one of the masterpieces of British Gothic architecture that includes the breath-taking seven-lancet window and the soaring arches of the nave.
Decades to eventually get inside so I stayed for hours(Image: Jo Ridout, WalesOnline)
So grateful were the monks to their powerful patron Roger Bigod that they were still handing out alms on his behalf in 1535, but then disaster struck. Henry VIII’s dissolution of the monasteries began in 1536, when the king disbanded all Catholic monasteries, priories, convents, and friaries in England, Wales, and Ireland, and Tintern was dissolved in September of that year; its decline into a ruin had begun.
Once you get down to the valley floor and stand next to the abbey, even without a roof as it was stripped of materials once the abbey was closed and empty, it is even more impressive. After a quick, and always inevitable, tea break at the pleasant café next to the abbey we headed to the entrance.
The site is much larger than I imagined with ruins of many buildings(Image: Jo Ridout, WalesOnline)
We had paid £5 for a day parking ticket opposite the abbey which was reimbursed once we had paid for an entry ticket, which is usually adults £9.00, family of two adults and up to three children £28.80, disabled people and a companion are free, children aged 5-17 and students £6.30.
I was a little worried as the welcoming staff informed us there was a discount to get into the site at the moment as not all of the site was accessible – would I have waited decades just to be disappointed?
The main Abbey cloister(Image: Jo Ridout, WalesOnline)
The first thing that struck me as we walked through an arched door to the site is just how big it actually is – the Gothic church obviously dominates but there are ruins of many other buildings that, with some imagination, turn this location into the busy little hamlet it once was – barns, stables, infirmary with its own kitchen and cloister, main kitchen and monk’s dining hall, the warming house, the chapter house used to hold daily meetings, the monks’ accommodation, as well as the abbot’s house and his own little private chapel.
Inside the church looking from the main entrance(Image: Jo Ridout, WalesOnline)
We were there on an overcast weekday and at the time the only people at the site, and for some reason we explored in silence. It seemed like the hush of the location, with only ravens calling and leaves rustling breaking the quiet, had captivated us so much we didn’t want to break the spell.
Maybe it was the enchanting ambience that effortlessly wafts through the open doorways and around the stone ruins that had also enveloped us in a cloak of silence, but whatever it was, it added to the overall unique feel of the place – I’m literally having a full body chill as I write this just thinking about it.
The view from the end of the nave towards the north and south transepts (Image: Jo Ridout, WalesOnline)
Sitting at the base of a tree in the grounds and surrounded by the site’s robust stone wall, we took time to enjoy the panoramic view of the surrounding valley. There was very little visual break to the blanket of trees that sprawled across the hillsides that surrounded us, apart from the occasional rooftop.
It felt like this view of the stunning Wye Valley from this holy site hadn’t changed too much from the time of the monks – we were seeing what they had also seen – and they had chosen the location for peace, privacy and feeling immersed in nature very well.
Looking back towards the magnificent entrance which must have once been spectacular (Image: Jo Ridout, WalesOnline)
When we got to the main church the site of the majestic stone walls rising up out of the earth and towering into the now sunny afternoon sky was impressive.
Inside the main abbey was nothing short of breath-taking and awe-inspiring, a goosebumps moment that didn’t disappoint – after years of wanting to visit the church the atmosphere that I thought would ooze out of the ancient stones totally delivered.
Looking towards the south aisle(Image: Jo Ridout, WalesOnline)
Time seemed to stand still as we quietly and reverently wandered around the roofless building, absorbing the ambience and taking in the size and scale of the structure. There were display boards up explaining the section of the site which was not accessible and the issues that it is facing just to survive.
Cadw states: “Tintern’s greatest glory, the superb Gothic church, has stood here for over 700 years welcoming worshippers, wealthy patrons and visitors. Unfortunately, the building was never meant to survive without its roof or windows and centuries of weathering has resulted in extensive erosion and decay of the soft sandstone masonry.”
Looking from the south transept down the south aisle(Image: Jo Ridout, WalesOnline)
The details go on to say that while essential conservation works are developed to prevent further loss of masonry and make it safe for visitors, there is the need to build a very high and heavy scaffold to reach and repair the weathered and crumbling sandstone on the church’s upper walls.
Culprits who have continued to damage the structure over time after the roof disappeared include the wild Welsh weather and the rampant spread of ivy – it looks pretty but ivy is a danger to the fabric of any building, even stone and brick.
Outside view of the abbey (Image: Jo Ridout, WalesOnline)
But trust me, even with the scaffolding up and areas of the church not open to the public, you can still see the majesty of the building and feel its ancient atmosphere – it’s definitely still worth a visit.
The abbey site delivered its promised memorable visit and I made good on my promise to the family with a very tasty evening meal at the Anchor Inn, although they reluctantly revealed that they had actually enjoyed the day.
A substantial amount of scaffolding for a worrying reason(Image: Jo Ridout, WalesOnline)
The view of the abbey opposite from my seat distracted me somewhat because now that I have visited it I am totally captivated by its unique ambience and wealth of history; I think about it often.
It will be a constant battle to save one of Wales’ most glorious and atmospheric buildings and I do worry about it, my hope is that with support Cadw can continue to do, in my opinion, the fantastic work that began in August 2024 to keep this Welsh gem alive and mesmerising visitors for centuries to come.