The Hurler's Stone Circle

The Hurler's Stone Circle

In Minions, you don’t visit The Hurlers—you check if they’re still behaving. These three stone circles, scattered like a pub brawl frozen in time, gave the village its name and its nerve. Locals sidestep sheep to nod at their “lads,” swapping tales of Sunday hurlers turned to granite for defying the Sabbath. No one’s sure if it’s true, but the stones—some upright, some slumped—feel like they’re listening. Minions, a speck on Bodmin Moor, wears them like a badge, alongside the nearby Cheesewring, a rock stack that looks like it’s about to topple. Pop into The Hurlers Inn, and you’ll hear new curses: maybe the stones nicked someone’s pint. Unlike Stonehenge’s coach-tour crush, The Hurlers are raw—wind-whipped, free, and yours to wander. The Minions Heritage Centre spills the moor’s mining secrets, but the stones keep their own. They’re not grand; they’re mates you’ve known forever. Trek the moor’s paths, dodge the fog, and add your yarn at contact.html. Our VRBO cottage is a cracking base for moorland rambles.