The great myth of Atlantis, a nation lost beneath the waves, has endured for thousands of years. It was first mentioned in the works of Plato but retold by Renaissance writers like Francis Bacon before being visited again on the small and big screens for modern audiences. But have scholars got the location all wrong?
Rather than being found in the Mediterranean, could Atlantis actually be much closer to home? Does the presence of a petrified forest on Borth Sands just off the coast of present-day Wales suggest it could be in Cardigan Bay?
Long before the Roman invasion of Britain, sea levels would have been very different. Great ice sheets were in retreat. These glaciers had been pressing down on Northern England and North Wales for millennia. Whilst the ice forced top of the country to lower levels, the southern end of the country rose upwards. When the ice melted, it caused catastrophic flooding. But not only did the water flood in from the melting glacier, the south of the country also dropped like a small child alone on a seesaw and flood waters flowed in.
It is unlikely that the flooding to the west of Aberystwyth drowned classical columns and marble statues but it is very likely that it did sink a substantial stretch of habitable land. More famously, this also happened to the east. In the region that is now Dogger Bank, there was once a large landmass called Doggerland.
Trawlers have found mammoth bones and even human tools at the bottom of the sea here. Back in the west, in present-day Cardigan Bay, there would have been woodland along with animals such as deer, bear and wolves. And whilst there may not have been a lost city, it is likely that Mesolithic hunters moved through the area, setting up temporary camps were forced to leave the land.
As flood waters rose so quickly, the trees of this lost region were preserved under a layer of silt. Over thousands of years, mineral-rich water seeped into the wood. And eventually, the minerals replaced the soft tissue with stone.
What is interesting is how this catastrophe passed down through oral traditions. The Welsh legend of the lost land of Cantre'r Gwaelod could have stemmed from this flooding. There are many retellings of this story, the simplest, but most implausible, being that the land was flooded by an overflowing well.
Other versions claim the land was once protected by a dyke on Sarn Badrig or St Patrick's Causeway, a shingle reef of the Welsh coast. Two princes were in charge of this dyke. One, a notorious ne'er-do-well called Seithenyn, was drunk on duty, leaving floodgates open and allowing the water to rush in and bury the land.
The trees are only visible during low tides, so it's best to check these before visiting. To find them, head out from the village, follow the beach north in the direction of the YHA, and look over the other side of the sea defences.
Top image: A general view of petrified ancient trees on May 24, 2019 in Borth, Wales. A prehistoric forest which was buried under water and sand more than 4,500 years ago has been uncovered on the beach between Ynys-las and Borth in mid-Wales. The forest has become associated with the myth of a sunken civilization, known as Cantrer Gwaelod, or or the Sunken Hundred, and devotees believe the area was a once-fertile land and township stretching for 20 miles. The remains of the forest's trees, preserved in the local peat, have been exposed by low tides and high winds from a storm. (Credit: Matthew Horwood/Getty Images)
