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...
16 Mar 2021
I wanted a nice simple lunch-hour walk that took me past a cafe today, and I managed to find the perfect road to knock off my list of targets to do it. Situated just off Jacobs Wells Road, right next to Queen Elizabeth's Hospital, John Carr's Terrace, and Rosebery terrace above it, which I'd completely forgotten existed, are a little cul-de-sac that many Bristolians will have wandered past a thousand times without ever seeing.
There's a reason it's next to QEH:
Known traditionally as "The City School", Queen Elizabeth's Hospital was founded by the will of affluent merchant John Carr in 1586, gaining its first royal charter in 1590.
John Carr's terrace itself isn't much to write home about, architecturally, but I like the secluded feel of it, and I really liked Rosebery Terrace with its little houses, commanding position and friendly, slightly tumbledown feel.
On the way home I popped into Foliage Cafe for a coffee and a very pleasant nutella and banana pastry, then walked home past the refurbishment of the old Thali Cafe into a new and interesting clinic...
Seems odd that there's a nice pitched roof completely hidden by the square high walls on this little place.
Adjacent to the hospital, this is apparently now a nursing home. The listing says:
Formerly known as: No.3 Clifton Court CLIFTON GREEN Clifton. House, now nursing home. 1742. Possibly by William Halfpenny
It's just the kind of grand old Clifton Hill house that got Clifton's posh houses off to a start in the mid-18th century. It sounds like it's remained rather posh inside, too:
Fully-panelled right-hand rooms connected by an arch with fluted Ionic pilasters, panelled, arched recesses, good marble fire surrounds with rocaille woodwork, an eared overmantel in the front room with foliate festoons and bracketed pediment; doorways with raised pediment, and 4-panel mahogany doors.
The old Thali Cafe will, according to the Guardian, be re-opening as "the first UK high-street clinic offering psychedelic-assisted therapy":
Though alcoholism is a focus, Awakn will also offer psychedelic-assisted therapy to treat depression, anxiety, eating disorders and most addictions.
On a Monday in late February, the Bristol clinic is abuzz with builders and workmen. Formerly the site of an Indian restaurant, it sits in a 19th-century building on the corner of Regent Street and Hensmans Hill in Bristol’s chi-chi Clifton area. Its position, next to a barber shop and cocktail bar, and overlooking a small park, was picked for its ordinariness. As Awakn’s CEO Anthony Tennyson explains, “Our strategy is to normalise the industry; we want to integrate into the mainstream, so that popping in for mental health treatment is as normal as… ” he trails off. Getting your teeth whitened? “Something like that,” he laughs.
I got interested in Bristol's medieval water supplies after poking around near Jacobs Wells Road and Brandon Hill. It was during that research I found out about a pipe that's still there today, and, as far as I know, still actually functioning, that was originally commissioned by Carmelite monks in the 13th century. They wanted a supply of spring water from Brandon Hill to their priory on the site of what's now the Bristol Beacon—Colston Hall, as-was. It was created around 1267, and later, in 1376, extended generously with an extra "feather" pipe to St John's On The Wall, giving the pipework its modern name of "St John's Conduit".
St John's on the Wall is still there, guarding the remaining city gate at the end of Broad Street, and the outlet tap area was recently refurbished. It doesn't run continuously now, like it did when I first moved to Bristol and worked at the end of Broad Street, in the Everard Building, but I believe the pipe still functions. One day I'd like to see that tap running...
There are a few links on the web about the pipe, but by far the best thing to do is to watch this short and fascinating 1970s TV documentary called The Hidden Source, which has some footage of the actual pipe and also lots of fantastic general footage of Bristol in the seventies.
On my walk today I was actually just going to the building society in town, but I decided to trace some of the route of the Carmelite pipe, including visiting streets it runs under, like Park Street, Christmas Street, and, of course, Pipe Lane. I also went a bit out of my way to check out St James' Priory, the oldest building in Bristol, seeing as it was just around the corner from the building society.
There are far too many pictures from this walk, and my feet are now quite sore, because it was a long one. But I enjoyed it.
I didn't know it at the time I took this photo, but this is the former site of the Bethesda Chapel, destroyed during World War II. There's a picture of it on the Community Layer of the Know Your Place site.
I found out when I was doing some research on this later photo—Alma Church in Clifton was originally a daughter church of Bethesda Chapel, and has "Clifton Bethesda" engraved in the pediment.
Bethesda Chapel was founded by George Müller, one of the founders of the Plymouth Brethren, and director of Ashley Down orphanage, looking after more than ten thousand orphans in his lifetime.
It's a museum in the form of a well-preseved Georgian house with appropriate fixtures and fittings. Well worth a visit, and when we can go back, I plan to. The thing I remember most is the grandfather clock, and the rest of my memory of the place is fairly scant, because it's been a long time.
In the background, two tower blocks, Irving House and Terry House, that hardly anyone notices, as they're mostly hidden when you're on the busiest streets that surround them, Park Street and Park Row. The entrance to their little estate is next to the Esso station on Park Row.
I'm planning on going and having a closer look at them tomorrow.
As I was reminded on my travels today, virtually any street in Bristol could wear the tag "hill street", but this one really is just called Hill Street.
I bumped into my friend Lisa in town during yesterday's wander, and we decided to have a wander today, too. We managed quite a long ramble, starting up through Clifton and nipping down Park Row to investigate the two tower blocks I'd noticed popping up behind Park Street yesterday, then took in a few roads I'd not managed to get to before, including cutting through the grounds of Bristol Grammar School.
I have snapped this plaque before, but apparently I didn't look up the name. He designed the Wills Memorial Tower, one of Bristol's most significant landmarks, and one I snapped just yesterday.
I've mentioned before how this apparently continuous road contains York Place, Tottenham Place, Dover Place, Meridian Place, Bruton Place and Park Place—unsurprisingly it's confusing the delivery drivers. Some of the terraces re-start the numbering, so it can't be easy to figure out where you're meant to drop the pizzas off.
This is apparently Jim from Friday Night Dinner. Lisa had to identify him for me.
The best-known artist of the Bristol School, apparently. We have something in common: we've both seen Bristol harbour frozen over, though I never saw anyone brave enough to ice skate on it.
I noticed I'd missed a bit of Circular Road and Ladies Mile, and it was a nice evening for a sunset wander up to Clifton. There was something I recorded along the way, not photographically but in video.
Bristol Zoo, the world's oldest provincial zoo, has recently decided to close its Clifton site after 185 years of occupation, which means that the sounds of wild animals will no longer drift incongruously through this leafy Georgian area. They're moving everything up to their existing second site, The Wild Place Project near Cribbs Causeway. As I was wandering the Downs, I heard some fierce roaring noises, so I decided to see if I could get a little closer while they were still going on and record a sound that's soon to disappear.
I don't have a way yet to put video directly on this site, so here's a link to the video of my attempt to catch a bit of the zoo noises that I just popped on YouTube. It's sad that this might be the last time I hear such noises in Clifton.
Is it still a potsherd if it's from a plate? (I just checked the dictionary, and apparently it is...) This one's embedded in a wall on Windsor Place.
I was trying to take a photo of the Portcullis and what I thought was also a disused pub next door, assuming it was big building on the right, but according to this discussion on Flickr, the Gaping Goose was actually next-door-but-one. I'll have to see if I can reproduce that photo of the sign...
I thought this was a fairly short shortcut to Bridge Valley road that I was tryihg to knock off my list. I was wrong, and I retreated. There's a big network of paths all through this (literal) neck of the woods.
So named because they're often extracted from whipped cream cans.
Nitrous oxide is a common recreational drug. It was Thomas Beddoes and Humphrey Davy who pioneered its use, at the Pneumatic Institute on Dowry Square, coining the name "laughing gas" and inviting friends like Samuel Taylor Coleridge to give it a go, so I don't suppose we can criticise the local youth too much...
I wonder how many generations of mildly disreputable youth have got up to no good on this rock?
06 Apr 2021
I'd originally intended just to pop up to the area around Alma Road, where I'd missed a few streets on earlier wanders. It was such a nice evening, though, I decided to extend my walk up to the very top of Pembroke Road, just outside my one mile radius, to take a few snaps of something intriguing I'd found in my researches.
I've driven, walked and jogged past the little triangle of land at the top of Pembroke road a great deal in my time in Bristol, but I didn't know that it used to be the site of a gibbet, in fact that the road itself there used to be called Gallows Acre Lane. According to the Durdham Down history trail, by Francis Greenacre (an excellent name for a Downs researcher!) among other sources:
...it was below this quarry near the top of Pembroke Road, once called Gallows Acre Lane, that a gibbet stood. It was sometimes occupied by those who had committed robberies on the Downs and was last used in 1783 to hang Shenkin Protheroe for the murder of a drover. Stories quickly spread that he descended from the gibbet at midnight every night and stalked through Clifton. Such was the alarm that his body was cut down
and buried.
Also very close to this little triangle of land was one of the gates of the extensive turnpike system...
Anyway. Along the way I encountered a wooden tortoise and a real squirrel, among other things. It was a good walk, and more light in the evenings means I can move my wanders out of the ticking countdown clock of work lunch-hours and be a bit more leisurely.
I came across this photo of 5 Wellington Terrace back when it was the Gaping Goose, two doors down from the Portcullis, and decided to snap the site as it is today. Interesting comparison!
There's a lot of outdoor trails of one kind or other going on, what with the current cicumstances.
The late, great Maggie Shapland was a familiar feature to anyone interested in historical industry in Bristol.
I think the first time I saw her was on an Open Doors Day for the Clifton Rocks railway, the disused funicular from the Avon Gorge Hotel down to near the landing stage in Hotwells, and the last time was when she was helping to restore Brunel's Other Bridge at Howard's Lock.
Both times I think she'd driven there in one or other of the classic cars she maintained. Sometimes when the garage door here was open on the way past you could sneak a look at the collection.
The last thing I saw her drive was this Moss kit car.
An amazing person by all accounts, I never knew that we shared the profession of "Database Consultant"...
I knew I'd missed a street! This wasn't my destination tonight, though, and there was a children's party going on in the street, by the sound of it, so I decided to come back here another day.
A great fish restaurant, clearly gearing up for some al fresco dining once the lockdown eases up a bit.
07 May 2021
I saw this tweet the other day and started thinking of my second Covid-19 vaccination as my "Sequel Injection" (to a geek, it's funny. You'll have to take my word for it.) Whatever you call it, this morning I went and got it.
It was in the same place I got my initial injection—my left arm! No, okay, it was at the Clifton College Prep School. I didn't take any photos of the event itself; the NHS production line is so efficient you barely have time to do anything else, even if the privacy of other patients wasn't a factor.
Along the way I mused at all the road resurfacing going on in Clifton, and also discovered a secret (okay, not-well-known and possibly slightly trespassey) way into Canynge Square, and on the way back I knocked off a few streets from my "leftovers list" of north-east Clifton. I've got much of Clifton done now, with the only obvious "to dos" on the east side of Whiteladies Road...
It was quite a long walk, and I'm feeling pretty tired now, though that might be the effects of the jab too, I suppose. Anyway. Tomorrow and Monday I'm walking outside Bristol, I think, and I imagine my feet will need some recovery time on Sunday, so it might be a while before I post another Wander.
The Fujifilm X100T that I mostly use for these trips is a great camera, but it's also a fixed lens, approximately that of a 35mm focal length on a full-frame camera. So I quite often can't fit in whole buildings, whole terraces, or whole suspension bridges :D
I tried to figure out what this used to be—didn't have a lot of luck, but the next snap is taken from an old OS map showing that this area has been a stand for public transport since long before the modern bus stop here.
Looking at the old OS maps, it seems this must have been where all the local cabbies hung out. The Cabmen's Rest has a urinal, drinking fountain, and horse trough, all on this little corner. Perhaps the little wall marks the edge of an old shelter; there's a box on the map there but it doesn't give much away.
Ther's a little shelter/bandstand-looking thing in the background of a few historic photos from the area like this one of a horsedrawn omnibus but it's hard to tell what's where.
Map source: 1894-1903 OS 25” 2nd Edition, Know Your Place Bristol
There were a lot of closed roads in Clifton this morning. I watched the white van at the end make its way carefully around the ROAD CLOSED signs at the village end of Observatory Road, drive past me, and get to where you can see it in the distance here before the driver was sent back with a flea in his ear from the workman on "stop the idiots driving through the newly-laid tarmac" duty.
As well as confused van-drivers, the buses weren't having a great time of it, either, having to squeeze down narrow streets like Canynge Road rather than their usual broad avenues. Never seen a traffic jam here before.
I'd spotted in my Canynge Square researches that there might be a cut-through from a gate I'd seen in previous excursions to the side of the Regrave Theatre.
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.
...lived here. You may remember seeing her gravestone in St Andrew's Churchyard...
Her Wikipedia entry notes:
She bought the land opposite the house for the benefit of Clifton residents and it still remains green space
While there is some green space opposite, it looks very private and seems to belong to Edgecumbe Hall (sometimes spelled Edgecombe, it seems...)
CHIS's Communal Gardens web page says:
Richmond Hill Gardens. ca 1830 This forms a key visual feature at the top of the triangle. There are specimens of at least 23 tree species, including a magnificent Weeping Beech, the finest in the city, and a Redwood, which is an offshoot of a tree cut down twenty years ago. The land was bought by Sarah Guppy (1770-1857) an inventor and designer who was consulted by Brunel. She lived in Richmond Hill and did not want any building opposite, so bought the land and made it communal. For many years it was a nursery garden but now it has become a well hidden car park for those houses to which it is attached.
...and lists it under "Private Communal Gardens", so I suppose it's not public, but it is communally-owned (and likely to have a covenant against building?) Seems a bit of a shame it's ended up as a car-park.
From the listing:
By Edwin Rickards and Henry Poole. Pennant ashlar, limestone balustrades, cast-iron railings and lamps, bronze statues. Raised forecourt with curved steps and a large fountain with bronze aquatic statues and granite urns; flanking plinths with flagstaffs on moulded bases, turned balustrades with lamps, curved railings with urn finials to the front, bronze lions couchant to the rear, piers to outer gateways with lamps on moulded bases. Rickards and Poole were a notable partnership of the Edwardian period, and this is a particularly good example of their work.
It's nice to see it running. It was dormant the last time we saw it, possibly closed down for winter?
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?
With a Lee-Metford rifle. The Lee Enfield was already in production when the Second Boer War started, but clearly this fella was still on the previous issue...
You'll notice he's also wearing puttees. They'd mostly died out as military wear by the end of WWII.
What's Egypt got to do with South Africa, you ask? It's the badge of the Gloucester Regiment.
The Glosters were the only regiment in the British Army to wear a cap badge on both the front and the back of their caps, and it's unsurprising that it references Egypt. At the Battle of Alexandria in 1801:
The front and rear ranks of the 28th were simultaneously engaged, whereby the soldiers received the order "Front rank stay as you are, rear rank about turn" and in commemoration the regiment later adopted a second cap badge, the 'Back Number,' worn at the back of their head-dress.
The Glosters were later merged with a couple of other regiments, but their successors, the Rifles, still wear the back badge.