30 Oct 2020
Something of a misty start took me around the viewpoint at the end of Spike Island and then on to try to find a new way into Greville Smyth Park. I got lost.
I think of the four spiral staircases (two at either side of the span of the Plimsoll Bridge) this is the least-used.
14 Nov 2020
A local walk with my friend Lisa in tow, including a coffee from the cafe in the Clifton Observatory, where I have fond memories of experiencing my first camera obscura, and cake from Twelve in Clifton Village, one of my favourite recent finds for both food and flat whites.
I'm fairly convinced that there's not a single working public water fountain anywhere in Bristol.
15 Nov 2020
My friend Sarah mentioned the high tide and I managed to drag myself out early, though still a little late. We nearly drowned in torrential rain, but the weather changed quickly and we ended up walking over to Bedminster in sunshine.
15 Nov 2020
A walk back from Bedminster to my place, mostly down Duckmoor Road, which I found a little dull—probably because it reminded me a little of the suburbs I grew up in on the outskirts of London—then held up slightly by some filming on Ashton Avenue Bridge. They were trying not to let the crowds build up too much in between takes, it seems, so it wasn't a long delay.
16 Nov 2020
A quick lunchtime jaunt to Dowry Square, which is very close to me but, being effectively a cul-de-sac as well as a square, I've probably only circumnavigated a couple of times in the last couple of decades.
From The Bristol Hotwell, by Vincent Waite:
The Bristol Hotwell was, of course, much smaller than the neighbouring spa of Bath, and it was in no sense a rival but rather a supplementary cure, for many people combined visits to the two resorts. After 1785 the Hotwell imitated Bath by appointing a Master of Ceremonies, "William Pennington Esquire," who wore a gold medallion strung on a blue ribbon to emphasise the dignity of his office. In order to preserve decorum in the public entertainments he issued the following regulations:
17 Nov 2020
A fruitless wander, as Spoke and Stringer (who I thought might do a decent flat white) were closed, and the only other harbourside inlet offering were a bit too busy to wait at, especially as I'd spent some time wandering some of the convolutions of Rownham Mead. This last congeries of dull alleyways and brown-painted garages was at least somewhere I've never been before, in parts.
Someone clearly decided that the best way of renovating that ramshackle old house on the Hotwell Road was to pull the thing out completely and start from scratch. They were probably right.
I like this piece. It reminds me of a friend.I should probably try to get a pic of it without a car parked in front. I particularly like the way that along with the more wholesome stuff there's also a drone pizza delivery going on! Apparently that's part of the original art from Silent Hobo rather than a commentary addition by a later artist.
In which our intrepid hero levels up.
Quite a line-up. I'm afraid to say I've only read the obvious writer here; I've just popped Angela Carter's The Bloody Chamber on my "to-read" list to try and make up for that, but it's quite a long list right now.
I keep on thinking there might be a quick way to Greville Smyth from here, but I think the only shortcut is up that muddy slope to the staircase on the left. And it's quite steep and very slippery-looking, so I've never tried it.
Okay, I successfully reached Greville Smyth the long way round. Of course, there's no coffee van to be found now I'm here. Curses!
Most of Bristol's bridges have the coat of arms on them. Not quite sure what's going on with the snake.
19 Nov 2020
A sunny day, and though I should have probably headed for less well-travelled territory I just headed over to the Marina to grab a flat white from Imagine That's horsebox café.
20 Nov 2020
Just a quick wander up the hill to get a flat white from Twelve. I really enjoyed the spooky mannequin (?) in the window.
This frontage on Queens Road, just down from where Twentiety Century Flicks used to be housed, has always looked run-down, and it's only getting worse.
21 Nov 2020
A rather more wide-ranging weekend wander with Sarah and Vik, taking in some mock Tudor bits of Bedmo (I should note that I've subsequently been corrected to "Bemmie", but I'm an outsider and have been calling it "Bedmo" for short for decades...), a chunk of Ashton, a path up Rownham Hill called Dead Badger's Bottom(!), The Ashton Court estate, a bit of the UWE campus at Bower Ashton, and some of the Festival Way path.
It used to be a garage. My friends Sarah and Vik tell me that it was a much, much grander building before succumbing to modernisation, at which point only a couple of details like this were preserved.