06 Jul 2021
I really only took the GPS and camera on a "just in case" basis, as I knew I was only going for a coffee in Greville Smyth Park along a well-trodden path this lunchtime. Still, I saw a few new things along the way, so I figured it was worth uploading the handful of photos I took...
This shop's on the Hotwell Road (no. 257) has been closed for so long I've completely forgotten what it used to be. Hopefully someone's being brave enough to open something new...
When I passed the (then-empty) fencing back in March I wondered what this would turn out to be. I had no idea it would be a miniature nature reserve...
According to the Friends Of Greville Smyth (FROGS!) Facebook page it's a hedgehog oasis, which is rather sweet.
I see from the Facebook group that it was Rich from Hopper Coffee—the little coffee van I was visiting today—who first started the building of the pond, after finding dehydrated hedgehogs suffering in the park. It looks like it then became a group effort with several volunteers and donations of materials. Nice.
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...
Quite the insult. This is in the underpass on the way to Ashton Gate. Normally I find it hard to make my way to North Street when coming from this direction, because of all the badly-marked underpasses that lead in improbable directions, but today I just followed the moderate throng of sports fans on the assumption that they were heading for Ashton Gate, which would take me in the right direction.
...and I was right.
Incidentally, a brief aside for a rant: why the hell are self-storage places just like sodding gyms? You can't get a straight answer about how much storage costs from any of their websites. They just take your details and then you have to talk to some bloody salesman, and play each site off against each other to get what's alleged to be the best price. I think it must be some kind of price-fixing racket.
I find something intrinsically nice about this modest little terrace sandwiched in among the rather more industrial surroundings.
They didn't seem to be footballers. I asked Rich at the coffee van and he said it was a Rugby match. I don't know much about sportsball.
Apparently the proprietor's other half loves tea and can't stand coffee. I hope very much this turns into a sitcom where she runs a rival tea stall on the other side of the park with a big A-board that disses coffee.