12 May 2021
I wanted to take another snap of an interesting Gothic Revival place in Clifton, having found out a bit more about the owner. On the way I walked through the Clifton Vale Close estate, idly wondering again whether it might've been the site of Bristol's Vauxhall Pleasure Gardens (I've not researched further yet.) On the way back I knocked off the last remaining bit of Queens Road I had yet to walk and tried to find the bit of communal land that Sarah Guppy bought so as not to have her view built on...
It's an odd little nook. I imagine there's a quite expensive property back there. I've also never noticed the "OTF" carved into the near door pillar before.
Between the gate and the oriel, the keystone reads "The Mew House 1995".
The bricked-up door to the left seems to be an outbuilding in the incredibly grand-looking back garden of the Bishop's House. Speaking of which, here's a bonus pic of the Vicar of Clifton standing at the front door.
I foolishly didn't leave time to pop in and pick up a coffee on my way back from my outing.
The owner caught me snapping this Figaro and apologised for how dirty she thought it was. "I parked under that tree over there..." Looks fine to me. Bit rusty, mind; I seem to remember you could only get these as imports, and they weren't really designed to stand up to British weather.
I love this Gothic Revival pile. I've snapped it before, but I recently found out something interesting...
"House. 1860. By JA Hansom. For himself."
Does the name Joseph Hansom sound familiar? As well as being the architect of this house, and, to pick a couple of things at random, Arundel Cathedral and Brimingham Town Hall, he also found the time to invent the Hansom Cab.
19 May 2021
I just nipped up to Clifton Village to get a coffee, though I did manage to walk down a little alleyway I'd not really noticed before. Or perhaps I had noticed it and it looked private, but today I felt like wandering up its twenty or so feet anyway... The reflections in the shop windows on Boyce's Avenue gave me the idea to take a few snaps of them, so that's the majority of my small amount of snapping today.
I'd quite likely been down this little alleyway (that leads to the back of the Clifton Medi-spa where I used to have acupuncture) before, but it's so nondescript I coudln't remember. Better safe than sorry. It has a view of some cars and the back of Royal York Villas
Well, not now it isn't. The church was demolished (after spending some post-war time deconsecrated as St Andrew's Hall) to make way for flats in 1975. There are some photos of how it used to look on ChurchCrawler.
Not that you can get much of a view of it with a little camera and with it behind a bunch of netting. Looks rather friable. Apparently it was part of a scheme to attract Queen Victoria to visit that never came to fruition.
22 May 2021
I didn't even think I'd manage to get out today, such was the weather forecast. As it turned out, it's been quite a nice day, and I managed to nip up to Clifton Village to pop to the Post Office. As with my last outing, I decided after snapping one shop-front on Regent Street that I might as well snap the whole row, and muse on a few of them, the only service I really offer over and above Google Street View for a lot of my pictures 😀
I have literally no idea what a "conscious apparel eco-fitness studio" is. It used to be Design Flooring, where I bought the oak flooring for my living room, a long time ago. It's lasted well.
The other two shops give an idea of the high concentration of hair salons in Clifton Village in general. I have little need of such establishments.
Carbon footprints, that is: it's not a children's shoe shop; it's one of those places that'll sell you seeds and cereal and whatnot by the scoopload to save on plastic packaging. Scoopaway on Gloucester Road is probably the best-known example in Bristol.
The gentleman kicking the recycling bag is not in the queue for Foliage; he's one of the proprietors of Clifton Hardware, next door.
Foliage was Wainwright's Coffee for a while before it changed hands; I think the current people are doing a much better job of giving the place a distinctive feel and attracting people in. Before that it was a boutique called Grace and Mabel.
One of those places where if you go in and ask for some fly spray, a socket set and some tachyon conduit for a Type 40 TARDIS they'll just start rummaging in the back room and ask you whether you want the socket set in metric or Imperial.
I should really try this place at some point. The only Sushi place I've tried in Clifton Village is Noa, which was excellent.
And the pedestrian and vehicle entrances to Regent House, the offices above. Looks like someone's managed to smash Knight Frank's window; maybe it's a protest against the house prices in the area.
26 May 2021
Just a quick trip up to Clifton Village to enjoy a bit of sunshine and grab a coffee. No new roads, and only two pictures, but I did at least snap a plaque I'd missed related to some recent reading, and enjoy a quirky Clifton Village house.
I love this quirky little quarter-cylinder of house, with what looks like a sliver of wedge-shaped top floor behind it and the little below-pavement cellar space behind. I have no idea if the big black door on the right is also related to it, though on reflection it's probably more likely to lead to the under-stairs basement of 1 Royal York Crescent, up and to the right.
It and number two are clearly converted shops or pubs—number three remains The Portcullis pub, of course, and they all get a listing together. "Early C19. Render with limestone ashlar, party wall stacks and pantile hipped roof..."
I recently finished Bristol Diamonds, by Emma Marshall, and Hannah More is one of the minor characters. I didn't know anything about her until I read her Wikipedia article, but she sounds fascinating. She was in the same generation of Bluestockings as Frances Burney, who coincidentally wrote the other historical novel featuring the Hot Well that I've read: Evelina.
Anyway. As I was looking her up, I discovered that I'd missed a plaque when I wandered down Windsor Terrace: she used to live at number 4. Lovely window treatment, too, perhaps to stop nosey people like me staring in while we're taking snaps of the plaque.
I managed to knock off a reasonable chunk of the roads I had left to walk around the University at the north-eastern extremity of my mile on this nice sunny walk. As well as being impressed by the number of big townhouses now occupied by various departments, I took some time on my way there to check out a war memorial, and some time on the way back to do a little extra wandering of Berkeley Square.
Assuming the home appreciates terrifying 1990s furniture, anyway. I assume TV tables will go the way of telephone tables. Maybe someone will be restoring these as retro side-chairs in the year 2055?
06 Jun 2021
The track on the map doesn't tell the whole story of this walk with Lisa around and about Clifton, Berkeley Square, Brandon Hill and the harbourside, because the batteries on my GPS ran out while we were on the roof of Trenchard Street car park, it seems. Oh well. I think I did most of the area I was interested in finishing off around the University; there were only a few new bits around Brandon Hill that won't be on the track, and I can easily do them again.
Still, technology woes aside it was a nice walk, albeit a bit warm for climbing all those hills, and sat on the harbourside watching the world go by for a while, too. It was good to see the Bristol Ferry Boats carrying people around again, especially.
13 Jul 2021
A snappy little trip up the Zig Zag to the shops. It's a steep old route, the Zig Zag, going from just over river level to about the height of the suspension bridge (101 metres) in a compact switchback of a footpath.
I was too busy struggling to breathe to take many snaps of the actual Zig Zag (I've been trying to make it up all the way without stopping the last few times, but I've not quite managed it yet). I did at least take a few snaps either side on this quick lunchtime jaunt to fetch coffee (Coffee #1) and a sarnie (Parsons) from Clifton Village...
One of many fine old lamp posts in Clifton Village. The late, great Maggie Shapland apparently used to keep an eagle eye on them and make sure they were returned if they were ever carted off for repair. The Clifton Club lurks grandly in the background.
Although you may immediately think "gas lamp", here's an extract from Electric Arc Lamps in Bristol by Peter Lamb, published as a supplement to the Histelec News, newsletter of the Western Power Electricity Historical Society:
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.
31 Jul 2021
At the end of July I went to have a look around some of the private gardens opened up by the annual Green Squares and Secret Gardens event. Sadly it was compressed into a single day this year, for various Covid-related reasons, it seems, so I didn't get to poke around too many places. I went to:
And snapped a few things in between, too. It was a lovely day—a bit too hot, if anything—and it was interesting to get into a few places I'd only ever seen from the outside, especially The Paragon and Cornwallis gardens, which are the least visible to passing strangers of all of them.
It's a little tamer now than it was back when anti-residents' parking zone protesters drove a tank through the city to deliver their petition. This one's about an experiment to pedestrianise Princess Victoria Street.
Won't make any difference to me one way or the other, really; I just walk up to Clifton Village for my shopping. Or, quite often, in completely the other direction, to North Street in Bedminster. I like both areas for shopping, and it's good to live close enough to either to get there on foot.
Kicked off my Clifton "secret gardens" visit by attending a talk by Victoria Square's "oldest resident", who is 95 and has lived there all his life. He did mention his family name in passing, but I've got a memory like a sieve, and his name's not on the event details. Ah well.
He really brought the square to life, with memories of the children playing in the square, making their way between the two halves using the tunnel—which I learned also had enough room to store the gardener's equipment, so must have been bigger than I thought!—and with the oldest child having a garden key hanging around their neck on a bit of string, ready to use when each family used a distinctive sound—anything from a whistle to a cowbell—to call the kids back home. He also touched on delivery men, including horsedrawn milk carts that would fill maids' jusgs from their churns, and the Walls ice cream boy who would visit houses who had hung the distinctive "W" sign in their windows on a Sunday, and gave many other amazing details. I really wish I'd recorded the event.
Among other new tidbits I can recall:
The Victoria Square event was at 11am, and I didn't have a lot of energy, so hanging around until 2pm for the Richmond Terrace Garden to open would've been too much for me. Maybe next year! The event might be back up to the whole weekend by then, rather than being squeezed into a single day.
This section of Victoria Square, the second side to be built (Lansdown Road is the oldest—Regency—bit) is called Royal Promenade, and it built to resemble a palace. William Batemen Reed built it, then went on to build the Queens Hotel opposite the Victoria Rooms, which every Bristolian I know would more likely recognise by the description "the old Habitat at the top of Park Street" :D
Apparently if the Royal Promenade were symmetrical, the windows of 7 and 8 would be the same size. As it is, 8 is clearly very slightly grander.
Nobody's quite sure why the Royal coat of arms appears here. Nobody royal appears to have given permission for it, and Victoria, as far as anyone can work out, never stayed here.
The weather appears to have been kinder to the unicorn than the lion.
You can't see the join. Number 4 was obliterated when a bomb hit it in 1941, taking significant chunks of numbers 3 and 5 with it. Clearly they did a good job of the post-war restoration. There's a mention of the bombing on one of the BBC's People's War pages.
08 Aug 2021
This was a wide-ranging wander. I started off crossing the river to Bedminster, to walk a single little cul-de-sac, Hardy Avenue, that I'd managed to miss on at least one previous walk. Then, pausing only to explore a few back alleyways, I headed for a few destinations related mostly by the Hughes family, who I've been researching a little as part of background for a possible novel, as several of them were involved in the Stella Matutina.
However, mostly it's the artistic side of the family I wanted to explore today, as that's where most of their public history lies (as you might expect, there's often not much in the public record about the workings of an occult organisation.) First I visited College Green, where the façade of the Catch 22 Fish & Chip shop still bears the work of Catherine Edith Hughes. Then I wandered up to the top of Park Street to pop into the Clifton Arts Club's annual exhibition, as Catherine, her half-brother Donald, his wife Hope and at least two other Hugheses were members. Donald was chairman for 40 solid years; Hope was Secretary for eight, and Ellard and Margaret Hughes, two more Hughes siblings, were members along with Catherine.
Finally I walked home with a small diversion to Berkeley Square, to confirm the location of Donald Hughes's house by checking for a particular plaque by the front door.
I must admit I'm not entirely sure where all this research is really leading me, but I'm finding it quite interesting to bump across the faint lines of history that link the Hermetic Order of the Golden Dawn, founded in 1888, to modern, quotidian Bristol.
This is the site of a proposed wildflower meadow, suggested for rewilding by West Bristol Climate Action. It's normally host to quite a few daffodils in spring, but mostly it's just lawn. (These paths curving up to the churchyard would have made rather more sense when St Andrews was still standing there.)
Not sure what progress the proposal has made, but I think a splash of wild colour would go quite well here.
30 Aug 2021
Lisa and I went for a longish walk, but I didn't take many photos. Mostly we just wandered and nattered. Unusually, my target was outside my 1-mile radius on Burlington Road in Redland, where I snapped quite a few photos of the collection of artistic animals by Julian Warren. This was mostly to provide a fairly arbitrary destination for a roundabout walk in Clifton...
The controversy about the pedestrianisation of this section of Princess Victoria Street continues to rage on NextDoor (seriously; I just had a look and the most recent thread about it had more than three hundred comments!)
Anything to do with parking/people driving into Clifton Village is always an insanely hot topic. I've never been able to get that worked up about it, myself, but then I live within walking distance (and I'm not trying to run a business that relies on people driving to me...)
From an Avon Gorge Geology Excursion Guide I dug up:
Just south of the Observatory, on the right of the path is a children’s playground [ST 5667 7325] in the remains of a limestone quarry. In the back wall is a bricked-up adit, presumably representing the entrance to a former iron ore or lead mine (Fig. 10C). The roof of the adit is fissured and sparry, crystalline calcite can be seen in fissures.
The playground itself is in one of the the quarries used for the Suspension Bridge materials.
We popped in. I bought one of Ngaio Marsh's books of Inspector Alleyn stories. The community bookshop is run to benefit Studio Upstairs, an arts and health charity. The Bristol branch is down on the Albion Dockside estate behind Bristol Marina.
Since I found out that Angela Carter used to live around here, I've read The Bloody Chamber, and it was bloody brilliant.