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.
I mostly went out to hang out with my friends Sarah and Vik in Bedminster, but along the way I thought I'd take a closer look at something a little nearer home: the last crossing point of the Rownham Ferry.
A sign of the times: all the new build homes of Balfour Road have solar panels on top. I bet they're grateful of that, given the current energy price crisis.
It's interesting to be able to look pretty much a mile back and see the familiar buildings of home. Descending from the top right in the distance we can just see the Observatory on Observatory Hill, then the end of Royal York Crescent, then the Paragon just eclipsing the suspension bridge, then below the bridge on the left there's Windsor Terrace and the more modern Windsor Court flats just visible behind the Bedminster foreground.
Getting back to the Rownham Ferry, the Ashton Avenue Bridge is one of the reasons it was closed. On the excellent Bristol City Docks website you can find a photo called "Rownham Ferry c1906 with Ashton Avenue Bridge nearly built.".
As you'll see in that photo, at low tide the Rownham Ferry was basically just a bridge made out of boats, so it probably still seemed a quick shortcut compared to walking all the way to Ashton Avenue Bridge. I imagine the foot traffic gradually migrated to the new bridge as the ferry was a more daunting prospect at high tide, from what I can gather. Also, the combined road/rail bridge would have allowed people to get the train across the river, rather than stopping at Clifton Bridge Station and using the ferry, I think.
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.
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 Clean Air Zone is being introduced later this year (currently they say 28 November 2022, but I think it's already been delayed twice.)
The scheme will see charges instituted for certain vehicles entering parts of the city, especially older diesel cars. This is to encourage people to change these older cars or find alternative routes or modes of transport. Apparently there are grants and loans available for upgrades on offer to private citizens and businesses.
This should only have positive effects for me, as I live just inside the zone, and I drive a recentish petrol car with an efficient and not-so-pollutey engine. In a perfect world, therefore, this scheme means my area might eventually start meeting the government's standards for air quality. This Bristol 24/7 article has some good info, including an estimate that there are currently 300 premature deaths per year from traffic-related air pollution in the proposed Bristol zone.
But, of course, no Metrobuses, as they don't do anything as useful as running on a Sunday.
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.
One of the things I like about Bristol is the strange contrasts. Here we have two crow's nests. The first is the Cumberland Basin Flyover System's Plimsoll Bridge control room, used to give the swing bridge operator a good view of the whole area surrounding the bridge. The second is the reason for the swing, the crow's nest on the tall mast of the replica of John Cabot's Matthew, as it passes through into Entrance Lock.
14 Mar 2021
An enormous walk today, or at least it felt enormous. My feet are sore, anyway. I started off recreating a couple of local historical photos in Hotwells, but then headed for my traditional walk along the towpath in the Avon Gorge to the far extreme of Leigh Woods, up and through the woods to the height of the Suspension Bridge, finally crossing into Clifton Village for a well-deserved vanilla latte.
I say "traditional" because this used to be a very regular route for me, first walking, years and years ago, and later jogging—this route combined with a circuit of the Downs on the other side used to be my way of making sure I was fit to do a half-marathon (I did six of them in total, between 2010 and 2014).
I miss the routine of this walk, even though it's a long way and it used to pretty much wipe me out when I did it—I'd come back home and collapse and do very little for the rest of the day. But perhaps that's what Sundays are for, and I should try to remember that.
Doing this walk regularly was quite a meditative experience. Not so much of that today, but once I got to the further extreme of the towpath, where the roar of the Portway traffic on the other side of the river dwindles and I turned into Leigh Woods to climb ever closer to birdsong and further from rushing cars, I did seem to recapture a little of the feeling of previous walks. (I would say my mind cleared, but I was mentally singing along to Life Without Buildings' The Leanover for most of the wander. There are worse songs to have stuck in one's head, though; it's a great track...)
Anyway. Apparently the walk made me more likely to ramble in words, too. I'll stop now :)
Sadly closed for lockdown at the moment, of course. Hopefully they'll weather the storm, because it's a great little pub and it's been there since at least 1847.
Photograph by L. Worsell, Bristol. Courtesy Bristol Archives/The Vaughan Collection
I love the terracing between the back of Rock House/the Colonnade and the heights of Clifton