09 Jan 2022
It's been pretty dismal recently, weather-wise, so when Sarah called up to say that she and Vik had just left the swimming pool at the student union building up in Clifton, and would I like to join them for a trip to the Last Bookshop, also known as The £3 Bookshop, for reasons you can probably deduce, I leapt at the chance.
Not many photos on this walk, but I did manage to get down a little road I'd never been to before, basically just the access road to a car park at a block of flats, but it was on the map looking all tempting, so I figured I'd knock it off the list as we were passing.
The museum and the Wills Memorial looking resplendent. Behind me on this chilly morning was someone sleeping in a doorway under a quilt, with a plastic suitcase presumably containing their entirely worldly possessions. It's a place of contrasts, Clifton.
17 Jan 2022
This was basically the quick lunchtime jaunt I tried to do at the beginning of January, only this time I actually managed to get to roughly the viewpoint I'd been hoping for to recreate a historical photo of the Bristol International Exhibition.
I did this walk about a month ago, but I've been a bit poorly and not really up to doing much in my spare time, and it's taken me this long to even face processing even these few photos. Hopefully normal service will be resumed at some point and I can carry on trying to walk any roads and paths that I need to do to make this project feel complete...
We've been as far as we can go down there on an earlier wander. From the top you'd just think it led to the Hotel car park.
From Bristol's Lost City, by Clive Burlton, available from Bristol Books; photograph from the author's own collection.
(And extra credit goes to my parents for buying me the book for my birthday! Thanks!)
The Bristol International Exhibition site, presumably around 1914 or not long after. You can see the Rownham Ferry in use, too. I still find it pretty amazing that there used to be a busy ferry and a significant railway station on this little scrap of land that I just used to know as the grassy bit at the start of the towpath, let alone a replica of Bristol Castle!
Unlike my last attempt I successfully managed to get somewhere near the vantage point of the historic photo this time...
I should probably have tried to get it at high tide to make it a bit more comparable, but you can't have everything.
You can see the White City Allotments—those glints of light toward the middle are mostly reflections from greenhouses—where the "White City" of the Exhibition used to stand. There's still a glimpse or two of the railway line to Portishead to be seen, too, along with a vestige of the Rownham Ferry slipway.
Mostly though it's the modern things that stand out—the long line of flats along Paxton Drive, the curve of Brunel Way across the river, and the roof of Ashton Gate Stadium...
Just think, I could upgrade to a flat just up the hill from me, with an extra bedroom, for only about three quarters of a million quid...
From Electric Arc Lamps in Bristol, by Peter Lamb, a supplement to the Histelec News, August 1997:
In looking at old photographs of late Victorian or early Edwardian scenes, many of you may have noticed very decorative street lights gracing the foregrounds. These lamp standards had long cylindrical shapes above the lamp, which distinguished them as being electric arc lamps. You may have wondered, like me, what was inside these housings. These cylinders, known colloquially at the turn of the century as “chimneys” were not chimneys at all, but housed the complex mechanisms regulating the carbon electrodes. Only two lamp standards of this distinctive design remain as street furniture on the Bristol streets and these are situated at The Mall, Clifton Village.
Given the long cylindrical shape and the fact it's on the Mall, pretty sure this must be one of the last two electric arc lamps still standing, or possibly the last one, as I couldn't find the other one.
EDIT: Having asked on Next Door, where there've been a few threads about historic lamp restoration, it seems the other one used to stand at the end of West Mall, not far away, was taken away for restoration a long time ago, and has yet to reappear.
There's another Bristol connection too, with Sir Humphrey Davy, as the article continues:
Sir Humphrey Davey is credited with inventing the first arc lamp, when he demonstrated his invention at the Royal Institution in 1810. It was powered by batteries and used charcoal elements enclosed in a vacuum. The vacuum allowed a longer arc with a much higher voltage. It was some years later (1844) that the principle was further developed by a Frenchman by the name of Foucault. He used carbons from the retorts of a gasworks, which were more durable. Thomas Wright devised the first arc lamp which involved adjustment of the carbons automatically as they burnt away, and W.C.Staite used an electric current for the regulation of the carbons. Foucault responded in 1858 by producing his regulating lamp.
(Yes, that is Foucault of Foucault's Pendulum fame.)
18 Jan 2022
Another workday, another quick lunchtime trip to get me out of the house. This time my flimsy pretext is a tiny bit of Clifton Vale Close that I'd apparently not walked, and the fact that although I'd walked down Church Lane at least once before I still hadn't taken a single photo of it. Really I just fancied a mosey through Cliftonwood in the sunshine, with the promise of a coffee from Clifton Village at the top of the hill.
We've popped down here before, on the site of the Clifton National School that didn't survive bombing in the war.
Today, the modern flats look to me as I imagine their original models would have done back when they were still just an idea on an architect's table (or more likely computer monitor, I suppose.)
I used to live down there, in the block on this end, Portland Court. I recently found a photograph by the late local photographer George Gallop (he had a place on the Hotwell Road) of these Baltic Wharf flats being built, taken from a similar vantage point.
The spire of St Mary Redcliffe, just left of centre on the horizon, is about the same location as the office I work in, at least a few days a week. I took the job half on the basis of the location meaning a lovely commute down one side or other of the harbour. And then a week after I started the first Covid-19 lockdown kicked in and I didn't get to do the commute again for many months.
This is apparently "Amhurst", "House and stables, now pair of attached houses."
In a few pics' time we'll take a closer look at the door, and its description in the listing...
You have to zoom way in to see it, and know what you're looking for, but having just done that I can tell you that one of my other favourite lunchtime walk destinations is sitting down there in the little access road between the marina car park and the clock tower of the former Charles Hill offices: Imagine That, who sell coffee from their cute little converted horsebox.
I imagine, given the fifteen minute gap between the last photo and this one, that I clambered up as far as the delightful Foliage Cafe and shot this on the way back home with my coffee. It's been a month between doing this walk and typing up the notes, though, so I couldn't tell you for sure.
Anyway, here's the gentle curve of Royal York Crescent, one of my preferred routes home as the view's rather lovely and the raised pavement takes you away from any traffic.
26 Feb 2022
I needed to buy new walking shoes—my old ones were squeaking and it was driving me up the wall—so I ordered some for collection from Taunton Leisure on East Street in Bedminster, and decided to make picking them up an official wander.
I didn't cover any new ground within my mile, but I did take advantage of the trip to take in a few interesting things just outside my normal radius, mostly New Gaol-related. Along the way there are a couple of sanitation-related diversions, including a visit to a rare manhole cover. You can hardly wait, I can tell!
The bridge seemed to be taking a while to lock back into place, and I don't recall seeing one of the life-jacketed operators wandering up and down it before. I did wonder if something had gone wrong, but it closed eventually.
This is about the only circumstance that can slow me down on a harbourside walk, but the bridge swings are normally over fairly quickly and there's usually an alternative crossing not far away, too.
Wapping Wharf was fairly busy. I didn't stop for a coffee from Mokoko or Little Victories, though it's always tempting.
The blurb for The Cuckoo Cage sounds fun:
In this unique experiment, twelve authors have been tasked with resurrecting that tradition: to spawn a new generation of present-day British superheroes, willing to bring the fight back to British shores and to more progressive causes.
But I'd probably take issue with the experiment's claimed uniqueness, given that it sounds virtually the same concept as 1991's Temps. Still, I'll be interested to read it and I snapped this to remind myself that I might want to get a ticket for the launch.
Here's a first glimpse of something I'm interested in seeing even though it's just outside my mile radius.
This gateway is a remnant of the New Gaol, which is apparently sometimes called The Old City Gaol, oddly. I suppose it depends on one's historical perspective.
The original New Gaol was destroyed during the 1831 Bristol Riots, and replaced with a redesigned version including this gate. That replacement New Gaol was itself replaced by Horfield Prison (which still stands and still operates as a prison) in 1884 and demolished in 1898. So, in fact, you could argue that this the ex-old-new-New Gaol. Clear? Good.
Or possibly the way in. Can't've been much fun, being escorted through these gates and knowing you were going to stay here for some time. I doubt prisons have ever been a barrel of laughs, but Victorian prisons definitely have a fairly terrifying reputation.
That can't really be anything other than a slipway for the old ferry, can it? Especially as there are steps down there from the road, albeit overgrown to the point of invisibility and with their entrance bricked up, as we'll see when we get to the other side.
This bridge was only put up to replace the ferry in the 1930s, so it's not surprising that the ferry facilities are still pretty obvious from this side.
We have, in fact, wandered down there on a previous walk.
05 Mar 2022
I had a lot to get done around the house, so as soon as I heard there might be a shiny new piece of street art near me, under the Cumberland Basin flyovers, I immediately decided that was all the excuse I needed to set off on a round-the-harbour lunchtime walk to get some fresh air and see if I could spot it. So, here's a circular wander that takes in graffiti, boats, wildlife and graffiti again...
A brand new piece by AcerONE and SEPR, replacing their earlier collaboration.
It's nice to have someone brightening up the space under the flyovers regularly.
There's a few more shots of this one when we return here at the end of the walk.
12 Mar 2022
There's a few tracks in Leigh Woods that lie within my mile and show up on my map but that I've not walked yet, so I decided to take one of my traditional big long walks through the woods on this nice crisp sunny morning.
For years—decades, even—I've been doing a similar route from my place, along the towpath to the far woods entrance, up the hill for a varied walk on one of the marked tracks and then across the Suspension Bridge to Clifton Village for a coffee-based reward. It's my default "long walk", really, and I almost always enjoy it. Today, at last, spring actually seemed to be springing, which made for some extra positivity...
The Campbell Brothers' White Funnel Fleet operated from the Hotwells landing stage up until relatively recently. Last week I bought an old timetable on eBay and popped it up on my blog for anyone who might be interested.
In 1965, the year of the timetable, there were regular sailings from here along the coast or over to Wales. You could go to Ilfracombe and Lundy Island, or head across to Barry, Penarth or Cardiff. All from within five minutes' walk of my front door.
Now to finish off the walk in my traditional way: buying something pleasantly unhealthy from one of the coffee shops of Clifton Village (I ended up in newly-refurbished Parsons Bakery for food, and the excellent Foliage Cafe for a flat white.)
Waterstones Clifton Village there presumably doing their best to sell books that help give context to the current Russian aggression.
27 Mar 2022
I wanted to have a wander along to the Tobacco Factory Market for some shopping, and checking the map for any leftover nearby streets I noticed a tiny curve of road on the way into the modern flats at Paxton Drive that it didn't look like I'd walked down before. I wouldn't take me too far out of my way, so I decided to head there first and then across to North Street to get my groceries and a coffee...
I squeezed through the busy market and grabbed some ham and some cheese, then exited through the farm shop where I picked up a bottle of milk (an actual glass bottle that I can wash and bring back for a refill; they're like that around here) and some veg. Oh, and a honey and chia seed flapjack. Well, it is the weekend...
I headed here for a take-away flat white for the walk home. I may have to come here for brunch one day soon; I saw a pair of amazing looking brunch plates being delivered as I was waiting for my coffee. Looking at the brunch menu it could have been the Bubble and Bacon, and the Turkish Tagine.
I noticed I had a few things on my "potential wanders" list that could all be done relatively close to home, and in a fairly straight line, so I set off at lunchtime to recreate a photo of a now-defunct pub, wander behind a Spar (which turned out to be more interesting than I'd expected, but I admit it's a low bar) and spend some time browsing in Dreadnought Books before coming home via a coffee from Spoke & Stringer, a little diversion up Gasworks Lane and a tiny bit of the Rownham Mead estate I'd somehow previously skipped.
Uncredited apart from "from our archives" and undated, this photo appeared in this article on Hotwells in the Evening Post and made me want to re-create the same view today.
The pub had a few changes of name over time—in the Bristol Then and Now Facebook group people recall this being the Spring Gardens in the 1950s, 60s and 70s. Someone remembers it turning into Durty Nelly's in 1995, but I swear it was back to being the Spring Gardens again by the time I moved to the area in 1999. Then it spent some time as La Demi Lune, which you can see on Street View in 2008, and then by 2009 it's back to The Spring Garden (without the "s").
So, from what I can work out, this snap was probably taken in the 1990s, most likely between 1995 and 1999.
This pub—which did good food, and had an extensive garden at the back, from what I remember, when it was the Spring Gardens in the early 2000s—is rather more bland in looks today, as we'll see in the next picture.
Not much to be seen in this direction except the crane on the site where they're busily filling a gap with new flats. We'll see the front in a little while.
Here's the entrance to Pembroke Place on the Hotwell Road. Looking at old maps, before it was Pembroke Place it was Blackhorse Lane.
While we're on a theme of things to find down alleyways...
We've had a wander around the old gas works site before but I wanted briefly to focus on one tiny detail, which is to be found in this alleyway called Gasworks Lane.
And we'll end on a high note, as Holy Trinity's belfry was looking particularly eye-catching today. The clock's right, too, which is rare in a public clock these days. The bell is back to ringing during the daytime at the moment. It was turned off temporarily during the pandemic as some locals were complaining of losing sleep to it, as it used to ring all night, but the church did some work after running a small campaign for donations to make the timing mechanism more flexible, and now it rings on the hour during the day but is silent during the small hours, at least. It sometimes reminds me that it's time for me to jump on a Teams call when I'm working from home. I find its regular bonging a reassuring Hotwells presence.
24 Apr 2022
I was originally going to head over to the Ashton area to see if I'd missed any bits around the football stadium—and also to grab some lunch from the Tobacco Factory Market—but in the end I got a little distracted by having accidentally chosen exactly the right time to see the Plimsoll Bridge swing on one of the first busy days of Spring, where a lot of pleasure trips tend to head out down the Avon (and possibly the New Cut) from Hotwells.
In the end I mostly snapped that, and just a couple of photos from the Ashton area where I grabbed some lunch but didn't do any new exploring.
The Plimsoll Bridge is definitely not the oldest swinger in town. In fact, it may be the youngest swinger in town. I think the only other functioning swing bridges on the floating harbour (side-to-side rather than up-down like Redcliffe Bascule) are Junction Bridge (hidden in this picture, it's on the far side of the Cumberland Basin, carrying Merchants Road) and Prince Street Bridge, built in 1925 and 1879 respectively. The Plimsoll Bridge is mid-1960s.
You don't often see this view of the brutalist bridge abutment, because the bridge itself is normally blocking and overshadowing the view here. Excuse me while I take far too many photos of it to be healthy.
I've always particularly liked the spiral staircases and the control tower, which looks like it's escaped from a prison camp.
You can see the man whose job it is to work the rather complicated-looking controls in the control tower has come out onto his balcony now the opening procedure is done.
...as I look hopefully down the river to see if there's a single sign of the Chocolate Path re-opening, as I have done dozens, possibly hundreds of times over the last several years...
03 Jun 2022
I managed to go for a wander a while ago that was meant to finish off a little tangle of paths in Leigh Woods, or at the very least finish off my wandering of the Purple Path there. And I managed to miss doing either of those things through some kind of navigational incompetence.
Today I woke up with a bit of a headache, feeling a bit knackered as soon as I dragged myself out of bed, but at least with the energy to realise that I'd be better off (a) going for a walk in what looked likely to be the last of the Jubilee weekend sunshine than (b) moping around the flat until it started raining, at which point I could mope more thoroughly.
I had a look at my map, considered going to Ashton Court, but remembered that there was a music festival there today, and instead found these little leftovers of Leigh Woods and decided to have one more try at walking them.
I imagine the delighted customer who emplaced the previous missive on the end of the shelter had stood here for a significant portion of their life. Well, that's often how I end up feeling while waiting for a bus in Bristol.
Sidcot School, advertised at the end there, is one of only seven Quaker-run schools in England, founded 1699, situated in the Mendips. A fee-charging school, they do of course have a network of their own minibus services—ten routes in total—to ferry the kids there and back, so they probably don't have to wait for First to turn up.
While my main target is Leigh Woods, I do also want to nip into Ashton Court and walk a little path I missed last time I was in the field with the little steam railway in it, so to the gatehouse we cross...
There was actually a gatekeeper today, as it's the weekend of the Love Saves the Day festival, being held at Ashton Court for the first time this year, I think. Happily, as long as you just want to walk a stretch of the grounds away from the festival site, they just wave you in. I wanted to walk a footpath behind the railway track I walked past back in...gosh! November 2020. I've been doing this a while, haven't I?
Having started in the woods, this is the first hint of the Jubilee celebrations I've seen, on the alpine chalet-style house near the Suspension Bridge.