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.
The same view these days is a lot less romantic, especially with the temporary crate from some roadworks sitting at the corner of the square.
I don't blame anyone who lives this close to the Hotwell Road (and can't get double glazing fitted because it wouldn't be in keeping with the character) for wanting a lot of trees and bushes in between them and the roar of the traffic, but I think it's objectively a lot less appealing to the eye with so much shrubbery in the way. Probably good for the local wildlife, though.
It's less obstructive in winter, as you can see from this earlier photo taken from the back of the square looking back toward me.
Samuel Taylor Coleridge and Robert Southey both spent time in the garden of the square, apparently—I wonder what they'd make of it today?
One last view of the Choir School building, the old Deanery, before we leave this area and head into town.
For now, though, I escaped the hustle and bustle of Wapping Wharf by crossing Gaol Ferry Bridge—soon to be closed for "at least six to nine months" much to the distress of local businesses. And I imagine the local businesses know what the Council normally mean by "six to nine months": somewhere between two and three years would be my guess.
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 street art is still looking good, but one of these properties has been turned into such low-end multiple-occupancy accommodation that it got into the Bristol Post this week with pictures of one tiny room with a shower alongside the bed serving as the sole room per person, with a toilet shared between four "studio rooms". I suppose this is actually better than the student accommodation I had in my first year at Warwick, but at least that was actually on campus...
This small tribute caught my eye from the far side of the road. Sadly there are fatalities on Brunel Way most years. It's not the kind of accident black spot you find elsewhere in Bristol, but I suppose any 40mph dual carriageway with a lot of traffic will, sadly, have a death toll.
This drew my eye beyond to the new building going on on the old railway depot/tile merchant/etc. I wanted to cross to have a look, but the road seemed too busy.
Odd fact: Here I'm technically standing in Southville and taking a picture of Bedminster, as the dividing line between the two Bristol wards runs down the middle of Brunel Way at this point. Of course, everything in the distance isn't in any Bristol ward, as we're also looking at the Somerset border, which runs along the far side of the UWE Bower Ashton Campus.
Ah, but it seems like the bridge is closing, which might make it nice and safe to cross over and have more of a look from the other side. First, though, we'll nip down and have a look at what's causing the swing.
Now, what's actually meant to happen at this point is that all the traffic follows the giant flashing ALL TRAFFIC sign pointing to the exit ramp on the left. Then they go down the ramp, along a short stretch of road, cross the harbour at Merchants Road bridge (officially Junction Swing Bridge, in fact), join the Hotwell Road and continue on their merry way, without any cause for delay.
This never actually seems to happen, and a queue just forms here. Today this particularly annoyed the driver of a Waitrose van, presumably late for a delivery and stuck behind what he clearly thought were a line of idiots that he hooted angrily at for quite some time, to as much effect as you'd imagine.
I walked back to the point I'd spotted all this activity from the far side of the road. This is the old tile merchant/concrete works/Ashton Gate Railway Depot/Bristol International Exhibition site. I imagine it was plenty of other things along the way, too. Here's an earlier snap with a bad photo from the far side of the site, but some detail on what the site was/will be along with a link to planning documents.
I'm currently toying with the idea of a little mini-website that takes a digitised and vectorised version of the Bristol International Exhibition plan (from 1914) and superimposes it on the same area today. It'd be interesting to see exactly where things were. My best guess from eyeballing it at the moment is that in 1914, this view would be looking towards the International Pavilion, Concert Hall and Art Gallery areas of the Exhibition, and we'd be standing on the train tracks that used to head for Ashton Avenue Bridge, which back then would have been a double-decker road and rail swing bridge, with the trains on the ground level deck, the road on the top deck, and a high-level swing control room above it all. Quite some feat of engineering.
They really couldn't make it much clearer that drivers are meant to nip off down the off ramp up ahead and take Junction Swing Bridge instead. But if anyone ever does I've not seen it. I don't think I've ever been caught in the queue here as a driver, but then I don't do much driving.
19 Aug 2023
It's been a long while since I did one of these walks.
I'm thinking of finishing up the project by walking one or two last bits of road, thus being able to declare with all honesty that I've done my best to walk every public road within my mile (and quite a few alleyways besides.) As a prelude, and just because I felt like it, I decided to drag out the camera and GPS on this little wander to the local shops.
I would absolutely love to have lived in this area before World War II, before the widening of the road knocked down so many interesting things and replaced them with a few busy lanes of traffic, before the tramways were bombed into oblivion, and while you could still wander down to these moorings and catch a White Funnel boat out to Ilfracombe, or at least wander down to Hotwells Station and catch a steam train out to Shirehampton, Sea Mills or Avonmouth. Pre-1934 I could even have skipped the arduous walk up the Zig Zag and taken the 40-second ride up the funicular railway to Clifton Village...
The Hotwell Road really needs more facilities for pedestrians. I spotted plenty of other walkers just on my brief trip along this short section, but all of us were being forced out to share the road with the busy traffic or prevented from crossing to the safer side and back as we made our way.
Thin pavements and a lack of crossings really show how much the car is king in this bit of Bristol, despite the gorgeous landscape.
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.
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.
I didn't know it at the time I took this photo, but this is the former site of the Bethesda Chapel, destroyed during World War II. There's a picture of it on the Community Layer of the Know Your Place site.
I found out when I was doing some research on this later photo—Alma Church in Clifton was originally a daughter church of Bethesda Chapel, and has "Clifton Bethesda" engraved in the pediment.
Bethesda Chapel was founded by George Müller, one of the founders of the Plymouth Brethren, and director of Ashley Down orphanage, looking after more than ten thousand orphans in his lifetime.
In the background, two tower blocks, Irving House and Terry House, that hardly anyone notices, as they're mostly hidden when you're on the busiest streets that surround them, Park Street and Park Row. The entrance to their little estate is next to the Esso station on Park Row.
I'm planning on going and having a closer look at them tomorrow.
This is the place that still has some of the reused fixtures and fittings of the RMS Mauretania installed inside.
I don't like it as a venue. It has awful drinks and the last couple of times I've been the place has been overstuffed with people but they haven't opened the upstairs area up to let more people see the band. Nevertheless I just booked tickets to see Wolf Alice there, as they're pretty much the only venue in town for a certain size of band. Maybe the new arena (sadly out of town, so I'd probably have to drive up to it) will at least be better than the Academy.
The site of the Carmelite Priory that St John's Conduit carried water to from around the top of Park Street.
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.
I noticed I'd missed a bit of Circular Road and Ladies Mile, and it was a nice evening for a sunset wander up to Clifton. There was something I recorded along the way, not photographically but in video.
Bristol Zoo, the world's oldest provincial zoo, has recently decided to close its Clifton site after 185 years of occupation, which means that the sounds of wild animals will no longer drift incongruously through this leafy Georgian area. They're moving everything up to their existing second site, The Wild Place Project near Cribbs Causeway. As I was wandering the Downs, I heard some fierce roaring noises, so I decided to see if I could get a little closer while they were still going on and record a sound that's soon to disappear.
I don't have a way yet to put video directly on this site, so here's a link to the video of my attempt to catch a bit of the zoo noises that I just popped on YouTube. It's sad that this might be the last time I hear such noises in Clifton.
I was trying to take a photo of the Portcullis and what I thought was also a disused pub next door, assuming it was big building on the right, but according to this discussion on Flickr, the Gaping Goose was actually next-door-but-one. I'll have to see if I can reproduce that photo of the sign...
07 Apr 2021
Unusually for my recent lunchtime coffee trips, I managed to find a new road to walk down: Caledonia Mews, which has a little entrance off Princess Victoria Street and runs between it and Caledonia Place. I've noticed it before a couple of times—if you look up from Princess Victoria Street you can see some of it, standing tall above the low buildings on the street itself—but until last night I'd not set foot in it, I think.
As well as focusing on this charming little mews, I looked in on the demolished site of the old WH Smith, and spotted what I think is part of the now-private-houses St Vincent Rocks Hotel that I'd not really noticed before, tucked away between Sion Lane and Sion Hill.
The entrance is on Princess Victoria Street, but I imagine based on the name that it was built as a mews for Caledonia Place, which lies on the other side, forming, with West Mall, the surrounding streets of the Mall garden.
For some reason I always think of Princess Victoria Street as running north-to-south, but that's because of my terrible sense of direction, I suppose, as it's really more east-north-east.
It's a lovely little mews, and looks very well-kept. I like the way that despite being fairly uniform in size and height that things are a bit more mismatched and higgledy-piggledy once you look a little closer.
11 Apr 2021
My friend Lisa joined me again, this time for a long wander through "Bemmie". In fact, I tweeted recently using "Bedmo" as my abbreviation for Bedminster, and apparently there's something of a culture war going on. From what I can glean, the longer-term residents call it "Bemmie" and consider "Bedmo" a name made up by hipster gentrifiers.
I had no idea, but then I didn't grow up around here, and I don't live in Bedminster, and I'm not a hipster. I'm not sure I've ever gentrified anywhere, either; Hotwells was already quite gentrified by the time I arrived. I probably just lowered the tone a bit.
Anyway. Lisa and I entered Bemmie by the traditional toll gate (though actually you'd only have paid if you were coming from the Long Ashton direction, not merely nipping across from Hotwells) and then almost literally combed the streets to knock several new roads off my list of targets. Along the way we saw lots of street art, as you'd expect, and admired the area's panoply of gorgeous knockers.
I love the Masonic's typography. Not been in myself, that I recall. I have the impression that it's more for locals than for visitors; more of a Merchants Arms than a Grain Barge, in Hotwells terms. The far side of the pub used to be a popular wall for street art until the new flats were built there. I remember one of Dan Kitchener's pieces most fondly.
Though actually this very end of it appears to be Fairfield Place, a tiny continuation of the road around the next corner. That's Gaywood House in the distance; we'll be visiting its very odd doctor's surgery in a bit...
Just to give an idea of prices, that two-bedroom house is currently on sale for £345,000. It looks in excellent condition.
We move from Fairfield Place to Fairfield Road and the views open up. I was instantly reminded of my previous visit to the parallel Mount Pleasant Terrace.
Normally when you're looking at a date on the side of a building in Bristol it's a little further in the past. It's interesting to see one so recent. I wonder if in a hundred years time people will stand here thinking about the dim and distant past.
I couldn't find anything out about this little VW with the well-stacked roof rack. It's tucked away on Dartmoor Street
14 Apr 2021
Apart from a lovely coffee and a slice of Victoria sponge from Twelve, there weren't any new sights on this little lunchtime jaunt except for a slightly better look at the long raised extension at the back of the St Vincent's Rocks Hotel, where I at least got to see the arches it's raised up on. I also got a fair bit of exercise by walking up the Zig Zag to get there, and saw far more people out than I have in months, what with the lockdown having just been significantly lifted. As I walked past The Mall pub they were turning people away from their already-full garden, and the (outdoor) cafe tables were pretty full up.
I only found out that this was a raised extension when I read the listing after snapping the last photo. Today I ventured as close as I could and got to glimpse a bit of the rather nice support arches.
I'm guessing there used to be a grand front door, but then later the hotel annexed the building and didn't need it any more? But it's only surmise.
These aren't listed per se, but they're on the "local list" and named as 8-14 St Vincents Rocks, so I think that confirms that it used to be part of the hotel.
Surely if you want to mark the passing of the Royal Consort you'd move your dangling flag to the lower window...
Nice to see someone keeping The Rocks Garage well-maintained. And they've safely wrapped Maggie Shapland's plaque in a carrier bag to protect it from paint drips, too. Excellent work.
Nice to see someone keeping The Rocks Garage well-maintained. And they've safely wrapped Maggie Shapland's plaque in a carrier bag to protect it from paint drips, too. Excellent work.