I went to have a peep at the giant sinkhole that's opened up in Canynge Square—ironically, having recently discovered the gardens were public I'd had the (triangular!) square on my list to re-visit for a few days, but now there's no entrance to the gardens due to the danger. The area was well fenced-off for safety, but I tried to get a couple of photos from behind the barriers.
I also explored the area around Camp Road, an real melange of architectures, one of the most mixed-up areas I've seen in Clifton, in fact, and confirmed my friend Claire's suspicion that an earlier snap of a sign from Manilla Road was in fact for a fire hydrant. Nice.
Someone posted this on Nextdoor, but I'm not sure where they sourced it from; I can't find it on the internet and the pandemic is rather hampering my ability to search newspaper archives (some website-based search systems provided by Bristol Libraries have to be signed up to from the library in person, annoyingly):
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.
Excavated through dolomitic conglomerate? Maybe they were searching for Bristol Diamonds...
There's a reason that the architecture in this area is such a mishmash. Here's an excerpt from a description of the Bristol Blitz, which happened on November 24, 1940:
"Norland Road, off the end of Percival Road, was a complete shambles - several very heavy bombs wrecked all the houses in it and shattered every window for many streets around."
— Fursdon, John. "Western Daily Press: Terror, horror and destruction rained from the night sky." Western Daily Press (Bristol, England), 23 Nov. 2010. NewsBank, https://infoweb.newsbank.com/resources/doc/nb/news/133B2F01478F93D0?p=UKNB. Accessed 27 Dec. 2020.
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.
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.
I'm not sure I knew until today's wander that the Bridge Valley Path exited almost opposite the Society of Merchant Ventuers' clubhouse.
A fragment from Horace's Odes: "not taught to suffer poverty."
Wikipedia says that the defunct Bristol magazine Venue once did a bit of investigative journalism on them:
Venue claimed that the Merchant Venturers control 12 charities and 40 trust funds, and also a private unlimited company, SMV Investments, that has major investments in defence contracting, tobacco, genetically modified agriculture and the petroleum industry. Merchant Venturers serve on the boards of many local charitable and cultural organisations, and are guaranteed seats on the University of Bristol Court and the Downs Committee. It quotes Paul Burton of the University's School of Policy Studies as saying, "they exert quite a bit of influence and we, the people of Bristol, don't know much about them and can't hold them to account"
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"...
Erected by Alderman Thomas Proctor of Bristol to record the liberal gift of certain rights over clifton down made to the citizens by the Society of Merchant Venturers under the provisions of the Clifton and Durdham Downs Acts of Parliament 1861 whereby the enjoyment of these Downs is preserved to the citizens of Bristol for ever.
They get about, these Merchant Venturers.
This postcard is from somewhere between 1900 and 1920, courtesy of the Historic England archive.
This is the view I was trying to recreate -- note that the Alderman Proctor's Drinking Fountain is now on the other side of the promenade (see my photo, next), having been re-sited in 1988 after apparently causing problems for the traffic at the top of Bridge Valley Road.
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.
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 :)
A Bristol tradition. Not quite sure what I was focusing on here, but it was early and dark and I quite like the picture anyway.
There are a few traditional vantage points for snapping the suspension bridge from Observatory Hill
...and another rock slide in the background. Also, just on the left in the wall at the back there may be a bricked-up opening; a geological field trip guide I found says:
In the back wall is a bricked-up adit, presumably representing the entrance to a former iron ore or lead mine.
I may have to go back and take another snap of that.
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.
It may say "Reflections House", but in its listing it's called "The White House". Charles Dyer, 1850.
09 Feb 2021
A nice walk, but something of a failure, photographically. I went to knock Worcester Terrace off my list, a not dissimilar terrace to Vyvyan Terrace, but one street further away from me. Like yesterday, it was very chilly but this time I went prepared with an extra layer and a winter coat. I think this may have been my downfall, as it may have been the X100T's control wheel brushing against the coat that put it in aperture priority mode at f/16, which I didn't notice at the time, and made most of my photos a little too blurry to use. Apparently in this mode, the X100 doesn't bump up the ISO if it can tell things might be a little too wobbly. Ah well.
So, a nice enough walk, and technically I did Worcester Terrace, but if you didn't take a photograph, were you really there? I'll have to go back...
Can't find out much about the history of the name, as there's pages of Google results in the way about a World of Warcraft zone with the same name!
From the listing:
Pair of attached houses. 1846. Limestone ashlar with external and party wall stacks, roof not visible. Double-depth plan. Tudor Gothic Revival style. Each of 2 storeys, basement and attic; 2-window range. A detailed, symmetrical front has projecting wings with small gables and octagonal, panelled buttress-turrets with octagonal finials; weathered sill bands, a moulded parapet, paired buttresses to the party wall linked by a raised parapet, and side entrances.
I don't know much about architecture, but I understand that if your porch has a dormer, you're probably quite well-off.
I was hoping to cut through to the back of the Cathedral, but perhaps this only leads to the Presbytery. Didn't want to get chased off by a bishop, anyway.
17 Feb 2021
The long road between Clifton Road and Park Place—the little triangle of grass in front of the Pro-Cathedral, which also houses Quinton House pub, the Park Launderette and Mr Swantons Barbers—is one I've travelled a lot, as it's a nice route between my place and the top of Park Street, especially Ocado. It has many names along the way, even though it feels like just one continuous road. It's York Place, Tottenham Place, Meridian Place and Bruton Place before it finally spits you out onto Park Place.
It was Meridian Place I was interested in today, as I wanted to explore the set of steps that lead down from it in the direction of Jacobs Wells Road. Turns out they lead to Meridian Vale and Meridian Mews, and come out between the Strangers Burial Ground and the Eldon House, opposite the entrance to Bellevue Terrace. I liked the little terrace on Meridian Vale, though they probably don't get a lot of light in the front windows, what with Meridian Place and Tottenham Place towering above them.
On the way back home I popped into the little lane behind Regent Street that houses the Chesterfield Hospital, as I realised I'd neglected that up until now. It was... unexciting.
I don't know if they've got an official title, but seeing as they lead from Meridian Place to Meridian Lane, that's what I'm calling them.
I only just noticed what looks like a large ammonite in the wall on the left. No idea what it actually is.
Considerate. I wonder how often this little cut-through is used? I suppose it's a very quick way of getting to The Eldon House from up here, at least.
26 Feb 2021
I'm on the first day of a long weekend, and I certainly picked the right one for it. This may be the first proper spring-like day of the year in Bristol; it was glorious.
I headed up to Clifton, around the area where I got my Covid vaccine jab the other day, to knock off a few remaining roads in that area and because it would be good exercise for an extended lunchtime walk.
Along the way I saw some very Clifton sights, including an Aston Martin, some Jacobethan architecture, and some private college sports grounds. Mostly, though, I just enjoyed the sunshine, and took every opportunity I could to snap views across the city.
Trafalgar House, Clifton Down. Not to be confused with the one on Sion Hill that I walked past on the way here.
I like the way Gromit peers over the balustrade.
This becomes Cecil Road in a bit. Sadly the sun wasn't really in the right place to take snaps of the rather nice architecture that runs down this road
Say what you like about the Society of Merchant Venturers, their clubhouse does have a fine, fine tree in its garden.
I'm glad my friend Lisa joined me today; she drove in from Shirehampton and told me that the Portway was looking rather lovely, so we set off that way. She's also braver than I am when it comes to doing urbex stuff, so this was just the opportunity to take a peek into the Portnalls Number One Railway Tunnel/Bridge Road Deep Valley Shelter whose entrance I'd found on a previous wander.
It was definitely dark and spooky and impressively big, with a side tunnel that Lisa explored that leads to a little door I don't think I've previously noticed on the side of the Portway. I didn't get many photos—even my astoundingly powerful little torch (£) didn't do much to light things up, and you're not going to get much joy hand-holding a camera in that darkness—but I did shoot a little video, which I might edit and add later.
After plumbing the bowels of the earth, we went up Bridge Valley Path to Clifton, explored some bits around the College and Pembroke Road, then came home via Foliage Cafe for coffee. Nice.
Oakley's House, Clifton College, Percival Road aspect, though technically it's on College Road around the corner. Named for E.M. Oakeley, who was housemaster from 1877-1883, and "...originally opened as a Boys’ House in 1870 but later became Clifton College’s first Girls’ House when the College became co-educational in 1987"
The statue in the centre is Clifton College old boy Field Marshall Haig, the "butcher of the Somme".
Lisa wasn't a fan. I'd need to know what it felt like inside to be sure. It is a bit of an oddity in the surrounding architecture, though.
Among other things, it seems this "period office building", owned by construction company Beard, currently houses the Bristol College of Massage and Bodywork, and I could certainly do with some of that right now.
02 Mar 2021
A quick wander up to Clifton Village to wander down a path or two either around Observatory Road that I'd missed out previously. On the way around I took a moment to take in the incongruous 11 Windsor Terrace, smiled at a couple of mounted police, stopped to smell the crocuses, grabbed a coffee in Foliage and came home through the Polygon accompanied by the delightful Spring sound of a woodchipper running at full blast. Nice.
According to the listing, the "attached house" at the end of Windsor Terrace was built c. 1840, about 33 years after the rest of the terrrace was completed. It's interesting, the way it seems to have its back turned to the main terrace. I wonder if there were objections from the people at number ten?
A lot of Scion Hill seems to be scaffolded at the moment. They're taking it down at the Avon Gorge Hotel, though. I think they've been repainting, among other things—the White Lion bar seems no longer to be white.
If the half on the right were there on its own, it would probably look fine. As it is, it seems to be being shown up by the more-recently-cleaned half on the left.
"The Crocus was chosen as the purple colour matched the dye painted on the fingers of children who have been immunised."
I'm still not entirely clear on how the crocuses are helping to eliminate polio, but the website's here...