20 Dec 2020
A long meander around bits of Bedminster, from the river to the north to Winterstoke Road to the south, taking a few roads I've seen before, and a few I haven't. The Christmas decorations were an extra bonus.
I'd love to see this in action. I'm guessing it pivots around the top centre, but I imagine that the circular bit also does something quite cool.
EDIT: I went back and had another look a few months later and tracked down a newspaper article with some video of the gate being opened while it was under construction.
The original artist is John Tenniel (whose name I can never remember.) It was Stewy and homeowner Alison Larkman who did the work of putting it on the wall here, though.
I presume it used to be a shop. Under the ragged tarpaulin is, I think, a Ford Consul Capri, and in the past there's been a later Ford—actual—Capri parked next to it, so the owner clearly has a bit of a think for Capris.
21 Dec 2020
Despite the weather, Sarah and Vik and I wandered around Ashton Court a bit as the sun rose. Not that you could really tell. Sadly, the bit we wanted to watch the sunrise from was closed, because people hadn't been treating the deer with appropriate respect. Ah well, at least it was some exercise.
My historical research took a wander underground recently, partly inspired by the Canynge Square sinkhole, partly by St Vincent's (Ghyston's) cave and its tunnel to the Observatory, and I was surprised to find that there might be an intact tunnel from the Bristol Port Railway and Pier still just sitting there under Bridge Valley Road. A quick search turned up this recent video by an intrepid explorer, so it's definitely still there.
I went looking for the entrances today, and definitely found the south entrance, at the start of the Bridge Valley Path, the footpath that starts with steps at the bottom of Bridge Valley Road. It's easy to miss if you're not looking for it. I think I've figured out where the north entrance is, too, but it was getting dark at that stage and the Portway was still busy enough that crossing the road was still the normal nuisance, so I thought I'd leave further explorations for another day.
Despite its looks, this is neither of the two footpaths actually called the Zig Zag (the Zig Zag itself, closer to town, and the New Zig Zag, further out.) This is in fact the Bridge Valley Path
I have other pictures of the Bridge Valley Path from other days; it's not entirely photogenic, though it is a nice walk if you're okay with hills. I skipped the photos this time until I emerged at the top, in Clifton.
01 Jan 2021
I wandered along the gorge today and found the entrance to the disused Portnalls Number 1 railway tunnel of the Bristol Port Railway and Pier. The door was unlocked, but as soon as I opened it I felt a sense of current habitation and decided discretion was the best option. There's a lot of people homeless in Bristol at the moment, and they don't need disturbing. For the same reason, I've omitted posting some pictures of a little encampment somewhat off the beaten track of the new Zig Zag, where I reversed direction as soon as I realised I'd come across a current habitation of some sort.
Up in Clifton it took me a little while to work out that the picture of the Promenade I was trying to reproduce was taken from the viewpoint I'd thought, it was just that the Alderman's fountain was moved from the top of Bridge Valley Road to the other side of the promenade in 1987, so trying to use it as my initial landmark wasn't very helpful!
Finally I swung past the Society of Merchant Venturers, who presumably still own most of Clifton, having bought the entire manor, including Clifton Down, in 1676, and I imagine aren't in much danger of running out of money. That's true to their motto: indocilis pauperiem pati is apparently from the Odes of Horace, and translates as "will not learn to endure poverty"...
The posh promenade where people took pride in simply walking has now been replaced, inevitably, with a road, but at least we've retained some nice avenues that sometimes look pretty spectacular, especailly on a crisp bright autumn day. You know, not like this.
The odd green thing is apparently something to do with the gas pipline running underneath.
06 Jan 2021
The International Grotto Directory website says:
Prince’s Lane might have been one of the original ancient tracks from Hotwells to Clifton, in the Avon Gorge. The site later formed part of Rownham Woods which comprised some thirteen acres. By the end of the 18th century and the early 19th century, the Society of Merchant Venturers granted to Samuel Powell a building lease, for The Colonnade (1786), St. Vincent’s Parade (1790), Prince’s Buildings (1796), and Rock House. Rock House is generally considered to be the oldest surviving building associated with the Hotwell (see Chapter 20). John Power conveyed part of the woods to William Watts for the construction of Windsor Terrace (1790-1808).
The above development of the Avon Gorge cleared Rownham Woods, and created a triangle of land on the north side of the gorge, that became enclosed as a result, by Mansion Houses, whose garden walls all entered on to Prince’s Lane. The Lane started at the bottom of the gorge, at the base rock of Windsor Terrace, and came out half way up Sion Hill. It is clearly shown as a public footpath, dotted with trees, in Ashmead’s map of 1828. Some of the gardens were quite steep in parts and therefore, had to be terraced, because of the gradient of the gorge.
I've passed Prince's Lane literally thousands of times in my life, every time I've walked past the Avon Gorge Hotel, which itself started (in 1898) as the Grand Clifton Spa and Hydropathic Institution and pumped water up from the Hot Well for its hydropathic treatments. I've never actually ventured down it until today, or at least nothing like as far down it as I did this afternoon—I may have poked my head around the back of the hotel to see the original pump rooms at some point in the past.
This was a great wander, though it does very much feel like a private road, and frankly I may have been pushing my luck a bit by winding my way between the astoundingly big back gardens of the houses of some presumably very wealthy Cliftonites, but I felt vaguely justified in exploring the history of one of the oldest footpaths in my part of Bristol...
Or the first sight of them in the distance, anyway. The terrace on the left is Prince's Buildings; we'll be walking being their gardens in a bit...
I always enjoy peeping down Prince's Lane on the way past and enjoyin the view of distant hills.
This was a pretty astounding space, by all accounts, in the style of a Georgian "long room" or assembly room, with the added bonus of a fountain of the Hot Well water being pumped up from the spring below. There are some pictures here of the interior.
It seems someone ignominious for it to end up boarded over with cars and portaloos scattered around it.
07 Jan 2021
Which included a literal "local", the Pump House, to try out their shop/deli/cafe. A flat white, some apples and a New York Deli toastie. Eleven quid, mind, but the Pump House was never a cheap pub...
I enjoyed the fog, and wandering down a few more out-of-the-way back alleys and what-have-you on the Hotwell Road.
I'm thinking of getting up early and going for a morning walk tomorrow, weather-depending, but at the moment my motivation to do things like this seems to be much strong in the evenings when I'm just thinking about it rather than in the morning when I actually have to do it. But it's going to be cold, and low tide is quite early, so there's always a chance of getting some footage of the hot well actually being visibly hot; you never know...
I liked the slightly flying-saucer curve of this bit of Poole's Wharf. I like the Lloyds building on Canon's March, too, which is pleasingly circular.
I understand that the man who first wanted to open this as a fish & chip shop suffered a heart attack not long before the planned opening. That was a couple of years back. Hopefully he recovered and is now running the place, but either way, it's nice to have a fish shop in the area again. The owner of the combined Chinese/Fish & Chip shop closer to me up the road retired a few years ago, and I've been missing it.
I didn't realise this was just a car park and an entrance to a couple of the flats. I exited quite quickly once I'd worked that out. I did spot a gate that looked like it might lead through to the rest of the estate, but I didn't try it.
I think you're also discouraged from walking down the other side, on the Rownham Mead estate, but I've been doing that for years. The gates and the fact that it leads somewhere less useful are what generally stop me here, but the whole Poole's Wharf estate seems generally more wary of strangers.
08 Jan 2021
Tempted by a hopeful repeat of yesterday's weather, I got up early this morning and went for a short walk up into Clifton Village, around Observatory Hill, back down the Zig Zag and home. Instead of beautiful and mysterious fog and crisp freezing brightness I got some murk and slight dampness which included witnessing a road-raging van driver and finding that it still wasn't cold enough for the hot well to be even gently steaming when I got down there. I've still never seen it steaming, but I've been told it does, on colder days.
The van driver, who'd nearly driven into the side of the motorcyclist while doing a three-point turn just this side of the blind bend at the top of Sion Hill, became increasingly aggressive in the ensuing "discussion", including pointedly shouting that it didn't matter who was right, because he was in a van and the other man was on a bike, "so who'd be working afterwards?" in the event of a crash.
I'd stopped to make sure nothing terrible happened; when he got out of his van, walked right up to the motorcyclist and started shouting in his face, I started walking back towards them, taking the occasional photograph in the hopes that realising his actions were being witnessed and documented might make him think twice about turning physically violent. I don't know whether it helped, whether it was the car coming up behind us, or something else that made him get back in the van. Whatever, he got back in and screamed off far too quickly down the hill.
As you can tell, I didn't have time to change the camera settings. Getting the monopod back unfolded was also not much of an option :)
10 Jan 2021
Went for a wander with my friend Lisa—the current lockdown rules seem to be that one local walk for exercise per day with a maximum of one person not in one's "bubble" is fine—up to the University of Bristol area right at the edge of my one-mile perimeter to see the Jeppe Hein Mirror Maze, among other things. On the way we mused about Merchant Venturers, the slave and tobacco trades, and dating in the time of Covid.
One of the roads I used to walk down regularly on my way home from a job at the top of Whiteladies Road. I used to enjoy cutting through here and crossing through the closed-to-cars bit just around from the Lido at the far end.
I just liked the filigree(?) edging of the.. Er... balcony? Portico? Can you tell I don't know much about architecture?
The pillar vents next to double-doored pavement covers are a dead giveaway. Many of Bristol's electrical substations are hidden underground like this. If you're brave enough to put your nose near the vent and inhale you'll get a whiff of hot, dry air with the metallic taint of a large electric transformer.
16 Jan 2021
A raggedy wander with my friend Lisa, picking up a few stray streets and venturing only briefly onto Whiteladies Road, where it was too damn busy, given the current pandemic. We retreated fairly quickly. Found a couple of interesting back alleys, and got a very pointed "can I help you?" from a man who was working in his garage in one of the rather run-down garage areas behind some posh houses, and clearly didn't want us just wandering around there.
Here's an interesting sinkhole-related snippet:
"In September 2007, Peter Insole of Bristol City Council visited no.52 Clifton Park Road, Clifton to investigate the report of a mine shaft in the rear garden that had been exposed during gardening work. In the southwestern corner of the garden a rough rock cut shaft approximately 1m in diameter was observed. It was not possible to fully survey the feature for health and safety reasons, but it appeared to be excavated through sandstone or Dolomitic Conglomerate and was at least 2m deep. The shaft opened out into tunnels or chambers beneath the rear gardens of the Canynge Square properties. It is possible that this feature was associated with a previously observed cellar or chamber beneath the rear garden of 22 Canynge Square, although there are no known cartographic or documentary records for mining activity in the area."
I don't know whether it's the colour or the general cueteness, but Pembroke Mews always catches my eye.
23 Clifton Park. This is so hidden away that it gets its own street sign, which we'll see in a minute.
24 Jan 2021
I started this wander with my "support bubble" Sarah and Vik, after Sarah texted me to say "SNOW!" We parted ways on the towpath and I headed up into the bit of Leigh Woods that's not actually the woods—the village-like part in between Leigh Woods and Ashton Court, where I'd noticed on a map a church I'd not seen before. I found St Mary the Virgin and quite a few other things I'd never experienced, despite having walked nearby them many, many times over many years, including a castellated Victorian water tower that's been turned into a house...
...was my first thought.
There appears to be, with no obvious explanation, a giant defensive structure in someone's back garden here.
Having looked it up, it seems that it's a "castellated Victorian water tower", built 1868, now turned into a residence. Fancy that!
Mr West said: 'In fact it was one of the first towers of its kind in Britain. It was built to provide water for the Cadburys and Wills and their retainers, including two gigantic family Victorian houses for the Wills. So it's in this exclusive gentlemen's residential area and as water towers go, it's posh.'
I used to do a long, long walk in Leigh Woods most weekends, and later on in life a long jog. I'd go out along the towpath to the far extremity of the woods, then ascend to the ridgeline that leads back to the car park, then maybe do a loop of one of the main paths, finally heading out past the Paddock to North Road here. This would be my first glipse of the Suspension Bridge after all that, signalling an imminent crossing into Clifton Village for a much-deserved coffee, normally a giant vanilla latte.