I went out simply wanting to knock off the very last little unwalked section of Clanage Road, over by Bower Ashton, which has been annoying me for a while as it's quite close by and I've walked the other bits of it several times. So, my plan was to nip over to Greville Smyth Park via a slightly unusual route to wander Clanage Road and tick it off.
Along the way, though, I inevitably got a bit distracted. I took a few photos of Stork House, a grand Hotwell Road building that's recently been done up a bit (I imagine it's student lets, though I'm not sure) and which I found a reference to in a book about the Port Railway and Pier the other week, and also tried to match up a historical photo of Hotwells before the Cumberland Basin Flyover System laid it waste, which included some interesting markers I'll have to do a bit more digging into...
I've always loved the bow windows; if you look closely you'll see the window frames are slightly curved to match the curvature of the walls. Must be quite pricey to have repairs done, I'll wager.
04 Dec 2021
I didn't take many pictures on this quite long wander, partly because Lisa and I wandered across to Bedminster via Bower Ashton, which I've snapped quite a lot of on the last couple of walks, and also because we lost the light fairly quickly, though spending a half-hour drinking mulled wine in the Ashton might have had a little to do with that...
Before we left Hotwells I wanted to visit a door I'd heard about on Cornwallis Crescent and also take a little look at a couple of houses in Dowry Square to consider the 1960s regeneration of Hotwells.
It's currently set up as a set of separate serviced offices. If you're interested in buying the freehold, they're looking for offers in excess of £1m.
As well as being the former home of Master of Ceremonies of the Hot Well, William Pennington, it was for a while The Hotwells Nursery and School for Mothers. Later it looks like it turned into Social Services' Hotwells Day Nursery, if the footage in this BBC documentary, starting at around the 20-minute mark.
05 Jan 2022
I took advantage of a rare recent day where it wasn't tipping down with rain to get away from my desk on a lunchtime workday and head up to Clifton Village. I'd hoped to snap a reproduction of historical photo which I'd worked out had been taken from the Suspension Bridge, but the gods were not smiling on me. Still, taking only a nice long lens with me worked out very well as the lovely haze of the day made more distant views quite dramatic...
17 Jan 2022
This was basically the quick lunchtime jaunt I tried to do at the beginning of January, only this time I actually managed to get to roughly the viewpoint I'd been hoping for to recreate a historical photo of the Bristol International Exhibition.
I did this walk about a month ago, but I've been a bit poorly and not really up to doing much in my spare time, and it's taken me this long to even face processing even these few photos. Hopefully normal service will be resumed at some point and I can carry on trying to walk any roads and paths that I need to do to make this project feel complete...
From Electric Arc Lamps in Bristol, by Peter Lamb, a supplement to the Histelec News, August 1997:
In looking at old photographs of late Victorian or early Edwardian scenes, many of you may have noticed very decorative street lights gracing the foregrounds. These lamp standards had long cylindrical shapes above the lamp, which distinguished them as being electric arc lamps. You may have wondered, like me, what was inside these housings. These cylinders, known colloquially at the turn of the century as “chimneys” were not chimneys at all, but housed the complex mechanisms regulating the carbon electrodes. Only two lamp standards of this distinctive design remain as street furniture on the Bristol streets and these are situated at The Mall, Clifton Village.
Given the long cylindrical shape and the fact it's on the Mall, pretty sure this must be one of the last two electric arc lamps still standing, or possibly the last one, as I couldn't find the other one.
EDIT: Having asked on Next Door, where there've been a few threads about historic lamp restoration, it seems the other one used to stand at the end of West Mall, not far away, was taken away for restoration a long time ago, and has yet to reappear.
There's another Bristol connection too, with Sir Humphrey Davy, as the article continues:
Sir Humphrey Davey is credited with inventing the first arc lamp, when he demonstrated his invention at the Royal Institution in 1810. It was powered by batteries and used charcoal elements enclosed in a vacuum. The vacuum allowed a longer arc with a much higher voltage. It was some years later (1844) that the principle was further developed by a Frenchman by the name of Foucault. He used carbons from the retorts of a gasworks, which were more durable. Thomas Wright devised the first arc lamp which involved adjustment of the carbons automatically as they burnt away, and W.C.Staite used an electric current for the regulation of the carbons. Foucault responded in 1858 by producing his regulating lamp.
(Yes, that is Foucault of Foucault's Pendulum fame.)
26 Feb 2022
I needed to buy new walking shoes—my old ones were squeaking and it was driving me up the wall—so I ordered some for collection from Taunton Leisure on East Street in Bedminster, and decided to make picking them up an official wander.
I didn't cover any new ground within my mile, but I did take advantage of the trip to take in a few interesting things just outside my normal radius, mostly New Gaol-related. Along the way there are a couple of sanitation-related diversions, including a visit to a rare manhole cover. You can hardly wait, I can tell!
Apparently it's the offices of a shopfitters. According to the listing, which is so laden with architectural words I found it quite heavy to copy from Historic England's website:
Zion House and attached railings and gateways. Congregational chapel, now offices. 1830. For John Hare. Pennant stone rubble and limestone ashlar, slate roof. Open plan. Classical style. 2 storeys and basement; 5-window range. Portico of tetrastyle-in-antis cast-iron Tuscan columns, with a deep entablature returning at the ends; the pediment contains a louvred oculus supported by a wide blank panel with relief palmettes
Apparently the antae are the bits supporting the sides of the entranceway, and stylos is a column, so the supporting ends with the four columns in between are a tetrastyle-in-antis. I will now forget that before it appears in a Times cryptic.
I'm fairly sure I saw Louvred Oculus playing a gig at the Louisiana once.
This place has both astoundingly good reviews and a gallery, apparently. According to the website, it's run by "Annie, a well-known celebrity on the Street Art scene".
I may have to pop in at some point, though I'm rarely at a loose end in this bit of town.
I couldn't find out why it's called the Rope Walk, but it does seem to be the starting point for the Blood and Butchery in Bedminster walking tour, so that might be a way of finding a local historian who knows...
I noticed I had a few things on my "potential wanders" list that could all be done relatively close to home, and in a fairly straight line, so I set off at lunchtime to recreate a photo of a now-defunct pub, wander behind a Spar (which turned out to be more interesting than I'd expected, but I admit it's a low bar) and spend some time browsing in Dreadnought Books before coming home via a coffee from Spoke & Stringer, a little diversion up Gasworks Lane and a tiny bit of the Rownham Mead estate I'd somehow previously skipped.
Uncredited apart from "from our archives" and undated, this photo appeared in this article on Hotwells in the Evening Post and made me want to re-create the same view today.
The pub had a few changes of name over time—in the Bristol Then and Now Facebook group people recall this being the Spring Gardens in the 1950s, 60s and 70s. Someone remembers it turning into Durty Nelly's in 1995, but I swear it was back to being the Spring Gardens again by the time I moved to the area in 1999. Then it spent some time as La Demi Lune, which you can see on Street View in 2008, and then by 2009 it's back to The Spring Garden (without the "s").
So, from what I can work out, this snap was probably taken in the 1990s, most likely between 1995 and 1999.
This pub—which did good food, and had an extensive garden at the back, from what I remember, when it was the Spring Gardens in the early 2000s—is rather more bland in looks today, as we'll see in the next picture.
I've been pretty awful at reading so far this year, apparently averaging about one book per month. That's a far cry from 2019, say, where I got through 41 books in the year. Today's wander was prompted by my rubbish reading, as I needed to go hand back some books to the library, because I'd managed to renew them so many times that I hit the limit on renewals. Oops. Several of them were still unread.
So, off to the Central Library for me, tail between my legs. On the way there I did my best to recreate a historical photo of Dowry Square; while I was in the area I walked under the adjacent Norman arch and poked around behind the Cathedral, and I also had a little diversion to the city centre and came back along the south side of the river, hitting some trouble with the lock gates as I finally crossed the harbour back towards home.
One last view of the Choir School building, the old Deanery, before we leave this area and head into town.
A fairly wrong clock, given that I took this at about 12:40. This used to be the Midland Bank.
I'm in the habit of going over to the Tobacco Factory Market on a Sunday. I think I've walked all the routes around that way, but as a Plimsoll Bridge swing let me cross the road to the far side of Brunel Way on my return journey and I took a couple of photos of the brownfield development at the old Ashton Gate Depot site I thought I'd call it a Wander and pop some photos up.
The Clean Air Zone is being introduced later this year (currently they say 28 November 2022, but I think it's already been delayed twice.)
The scheme will see charges instituted for certain vehicles entering parts of the city, especially older diesel cars. This is to encourage people to change these older cars or find alternative routes or modes of transport. Apparently there are grants and loans available for upgrades on offer to private citizens and businesses.
This should only have positive effects for me, as I live just inside the zone, and I drive a recentish petrol car with an efficient and not-so-pollutey engine. In a perfect world, therefore, this scheme means my area might eventually start meeting the government's standards for air quality. This Bristol 24/7 article has some good info, including an estimate that there are currently 300 premature deaths per year from traffic-related air pollution in the proposed Bristol zone.
20 Mar 2021
My friend Lisa was meeting another friend for a walk near the suspension bridge, so we fitted in a quick harbourside loop from my place first. We discussed gardening (we're both envious of the gardening skills of the Pooles Wharf residents; we can just about keep herbs alive, whereas they're growing heartily-fruiting lemon trees outdoors in England along with everything from bonsai to magnolias), cafes, work and architecture, among other things.
My friend Lisa says that if you live here and don't try to recreate a certain scene from the film Titanic at least once, then you have no soul. (I've not seen Titanic, so the jury's still out on my soul.)
I wasn't going to take a very long walk on this nice spring evening; it just happened. I was going to knock off a path or two on Brandon Hill, home over centuries to hermits and windmills, cannons and Chartists, and then just wander home, stopping only to fill up my milk bottle at the vending machine in the Pump House car park.
However, when I heard a distant gas burner I stayed on the hill long enough to see if I could get a decent photo of both the hot air balloon drifting over with Cabot Tower in the same frame (spoiler: I couldn't. And only having the fixed-focal-length Fuji with me didn't help) and then, on the way home, bumped into my "support bubble", Sarah and Vik, and extended my walk even further do creep carefully down the slipway next to the old paddle steamer landing stage and get some photos from its furthest extreme during a very low tide...