17 Mar 2021
The other day I realised (hello, Maggie!) that my next walk would be my hundredth, and that I'd done 393.4km so far. I figured it would be nice to get to 100 walks and 400km on the same walk, so I went for a nice long harbourside wander after work, rather than dashing out at lunchtime. As it turned out, we're just coming up to the time of year where I can leave the house at 5:30 in the evening and there's still just enough light to take photos by the time I've made it around the harbourside. Though only just, and mostly because I've got a full-frame camera that's not bad in low light...
Still, the evening light made a lovely change, and some of the photos turned out to be pretty good photos per se, rather than just record shots of my walk. I'm looking forward to more evening walks like this as summer approaches.
On the way around this evening I wandered through one of the oldest bits of the city to extend my walk and snapped some interesting bits of architecture, including an NCP car park(!) and a nighttime shot of one of my favourite subjects, the clock tower at the Albion dockyard.
This is actually a Banksy work, not as well-known as many. Oddly, it seems like this loading bay may have been added after the graffiti was put there, and the graffit carefully transferred. I'll have to find out whether that's what actually happened...
The listing says the library tympana show Bede, Alfred the Great and Chaucer. I don't know much about history, but I'd plum for the guy surrounded by crosses being the Venerable Bede, the bloke with the sword being Alfred and by a process of elimination, the bloke on the left being Geoff C.
From Wikipedia:
William Friese-Greene (born William Edward Green, 7 September 1855 – 5 May 1921) was a prolific English inventor and professional photographer. He is principally known as a pioneer in the field of motion pictures, having devised a series of cameras in 1888–1891, with which he shot moving pictures in London. He went on to patent an early two-colour filming process in 1905. His inventions in the field of printing – including photo-typesetting and a method of printing without ink – brought him wealth, as did his chain of photographic studios. However, he spent everything he earned on inventing, went bankrupt three times and was jailed once, before dying in poverty.
This year there's apparently a year-long celebration of his life and work.
Oddly, everyone in Bristol knows the wall above this little alleyway/loading bay, but probably woudln't recognise this bit down here.
It's seen better day. Virtually every Banksy appears to be either vandalised or stolen as soon as it turns up in Bristol these days. Wikipedia even has an article devoted to a list of his works that have been destroyed.
The NCP car park. Designed by Kenneth Wakeford Jarram & Harris in 1966, one of many brutalist Bristol buildings.
18 Mar 2021
Reproducing historical photos seems to be a developing interest for me. On today's wander I just went for my normal coffee at Imagine That, but along the way I stopped at Baltic Wharf (the modern housing estate; historically-speaking, I was probably in between Canada Wharf and Gefle Wharf—about here, in fact) to reproduce a 1930s photo of the Mardyke area from the Tarring collection.
Mardyke, from what I can work out, means "a ditch along the margins". Before my researches, I only really knew the name from the Mardyke pub, a big place on the Hotwell Road. Everyone knows the Mardyke, partly because of its size and signage, but I've only been in once or twice, too long ago to remember much of what it was like. However, the wharf there used to be known as Mardyke Wharf, and the area in general as Mardyke. (I just found an 1826 painting by Thomas Leeson Rowbotham of "Mardyke seen from near Hilhouse's Dock, showing the 'Clifton Ark' floating chapel" that shows the area before much development had happened, incidentally, and now I feel like I need to find out a bit more about the floating chapel...)
I enjoyed snapping the "after" photo; the process involved moving a group of swans out of the place I needed to stand to get the photo; luckily I've started carrying waterfowl food along with my on my harbourside jaunts, so I could use bribery rather than a more confrontational approach. Not sure I'd fancy my chances against a swan, though I did once team up with another passerby to shoo a recalcitrant one off the Redcliffe bascule bridge so a busful of commuters could continue their journey to work...
Showing both the Clifton Industrial School on the Hotwell Road, and the Clifton National Schools building on the hill above.
(via the Loxton Collection from Bristol Libraries on Flickr.)
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.)
It's nice to see that Bristol's creative industries are still continuing here and there. This little stretch of the harbourside is home to JAG Props, the Puppet Place, and isn't far away from Aardman's HQ.
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...
From Peter Moorhouse's web site:
The park throughout a large part of history was used as a political meeting point – as a speaker’s corner and a gathering place. Over the years many groups met for discussions on the hill. This sculpture celebrates this aspect with all the thoughts of these gatherings, especially in the context of political meetings for political change and reform.
At the top of the hill there used to be an anchorage – a hermitage – where there would have been mediation and prayer – again thought patterns.
According to the Whitley Pump (twinned with St John's Conduit!) website:
Carmelite monks constructed St John’s Conduit, to carry water from the nearby spring to a friary that occupied the site now occupied by Bristol Beacon (Colston Hall as-was.)
It still carries water to a fountain outside St John the Baptist Church on Quay Street, which I'll have to go and have a look at—it's the church at the end of Broad Street, where National Westminster Insurance Services, my first employer in Bristol, used to be.
Presumably some of it also used to pop out here, but that's just a guess. The map of medieval cellars and conduits seems only to show a pipe passing near here from the Jacobs Well spring, not from the St John's source, which looks to be in Berkeley Square.
There's a bit more info here.
25 Mar 2021
I was honestly just about to do the homework from my oh-so-thrilling ITIL course when my friends Sarah and Vik asked me if I'd like to come out for a wander down the towpath with them. I enjoyed the company, the evening light and the delicate clouds.
I got interested in Bristol's medieval water supplies after poking around near Jacobs Wells Road and Brandon Hill. It was during that research I found out about a pipe that's still there today, and, as far as I know, still actually functioning, that was originally commissioned by Carmelite monks in the 13th century. They wanted a supply of spring water from Brandon Hill to their priory on the site of what's now the Bristol Beacon—Colston Hall, as-was. It was created around 1267, and later, in 1376, extended generously with an extra "feather" pipe to St John's On The Wall, giving the pipework its modern name of "St John's Conduit".
St John's on the Wall is still there, guarding the remaining city gate at the end of Broad Street, and the outlet tap area was recently refurbished. It doesn't run continuously now, like it did when I first moved to Bristol and worked at the end of Broad Street, in the Everard Building, but I believe the pipe still functions. One day I'd like to see that tap running...
There are a few links on the web about the pipe, but by far the best thing to do is to watch this short and fascinating 1970s TV documentary called The Hidden Source, which has some footage of the actual pipe and also lots of fantastic general footage of Bristol in the seventies.
On my walk today I was actually just going to the building society in town, but I decided to trace some of the route of the Carmelite pipe, including visiting streets it runs under, like Park Street, Christmas Street, and, of course, Pipe Lane. I also went a bit out of my way to check out St James' Priory, the oldest building in Bristol, seeing as it was just around the corner from the building society.
There are far too many pictures from this walk, and my feet are now quite sore, because it was a long one. But I enjoyed it.
As I was reminded on my travels today, virtually any street in Bristol could wear the tag "hill street", but this one really is just called Hill Street.
I feel like I can make out some kind of figure in the random blotches on this wall, but it might just be my imagination.
I bumped into my friend Lisa in town during yesterday's wander, and we decided to have a wander today, too. We managed quite a long ramble, starting up through Clifton and nipping down Park Row to investigate the two tower blocks I'd noticed popping up behind Park Street yesterday, then took in a few roads I'd not managed to get to before, including cutting through the grounds of Bristol Grammar School.
The best-known artist of the Bristol School, apparently. We have something in common: we've both seen Bristol harbour frozen over, though I never saw anyone brave enough to ice skate on it.
A lot going on here. The little orange thing that looks like a cross between a litter bin and a buoy is the heat vent for the electrical substation that's below the double metal doors in the pavement to its left. Then in the middle is an Edwardian toilet converted to a cafe, though the last time I was in there it was hosting an art exhibition. Finally on the right is a mural that I completely missed when taking this photo because I was concentrating so much on the old lavvy!
I assume it's the schools theatre. I mean, QEH has one; why wouldn't Bristol Grammar?
29 Mar 2021
Just a little potter around Hotwells with Sarah and Vik. I didn't visit any new streets, but I liked a couple of the photos a lot.
31 Mar 2021
Not a literal run, but I didn't hang about, as I had a job interview to get to (I was an interviewer, not the interviewee, but you still have to be there on time...) Along the way to pick up a lunchtime coffee I mostly seemed to take photos of the high tide, though I also came across a bit of outreach work for small spiny mammals...
01 Apr 2021
Another workday, another quick coffee excursion. This time I decided to swing past Sydney Row on the way back from the marina car park where Imagine That have their horsebox. I didn't know until recently that the terrace was built for workers at the adjacent dockyard.
I've also gradually come to the conclusion that I don't really think very two-dimensionally when it comes to finding my way around or associating one place with another. I only realised in the last few days that the odd industrial building that takes up the other half of Syndey Row, the one that's always covered with graffiti, is the back of the dockyard works. In my defence, as it's tucked away in a corner of the little industrial estate that I've never ventured into (I rarely find I have a need for the products of safety valve manufacturers), I don't think I've ever seen the front of the building...
I don't think I ever put two and two together before and worked out that this was the back of one of the industrial buldings on the Albion Dockyard. I'm not sure you can see it from the front, or at least not without wandering into the fairly private-looking works area.
That website doesn't seem to be there, which seems a bit odd for a sign that's only just gone up.
The pivot point of the Plimsoll Bridge is getting a lot of paint-based attention at the moment. Graffiti seems to be rife all round, in fact. I suppose there's not much else going on right now...