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.
05 Jun 2022
Another day not dissimilar to my last wander: I'm feeling a bit tired and rather than just moping around the house I thought I'd find some tiny bit of somewhere that I'd not yet walked and get outdoors. This time I headed for the Tobacco Factory Market in Bedminster, as I often do, but went the long way around via Ashton Court Mansion as I knew there were some footpaths and a small section of road I'd not ticked off up there. Finishing all the Ashton Court footpaths will be quite a long job, but you've got to start somewhere...
I did feel rather better by the time I got home, and, pretty much astoundingly given the weather forecast, managed to avoid the rain completely.
I'd normally walk over those open lock gates she's just sailed through, but it's easy enough to walk down to the gates at the river end.
The technique that Ant Carver used for this piece, called "Love Me/Love Not", is intriguing. I recommend reading the write-up on the always-informative Natural Adventures.
I've been pretty awful at reading so far this year, apparently averaging about one book per month. That's a far cry from 2019, say, where I got through 41 books in the year. Today's wander was prompted by my rubbish reading, as I needed to go hand back some books to the library, because I'd managed to renew them so many times that I hit the limit on renewals. Oops. Several of them were still unread.
So, off to the Central Library for me, tail between my legs. On the way there I did my best to recreate a historical photo of Dowry Square; while I was in the area I walked under the adjacent Norman arch and poked around behind the Cathedral, and I also had a little diversion to the city centre and came back along the south side of the river, hitting some trouble with the lock gates as I finally crossed the harbour back towards home.
Pause for a moment first to admire the frieze and the acanthus-topped columns, but then check out the clock. It's not far off the right time, which is unusual for a public clock these days. But even a broken clock is right twice a day, right? Not this one—it would still be right four times a day, as it's got an extra minute hand. Before time was standardised across the country, this clock would show both local time and "Railway Time", i.e. Greenwich Mean Time.
It's directly over the entrance to Saint Nicholas Market, formely the Corn Exchange, but sadly they're closed on Sundays, so I couldn't take my usual wander through.
The Mother's Ruin and Seamus O'Donnell's, just to the left here, are both good pubs. Sandwiched in between them at the moment is Shall Not Fade, who sell plants, vinyl records and clothes. The also, apparently, run a record label and a festival. I was tempted by a calathea, but I didn't want to be carrying it around for the next couple of hours. I'll have to come back another day.
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.
Well, technically that's Freeland Place, I suppose, but I was standing on Granby Hill to take the photo. I wonder how many photos of this fab house with its wrapping of Boston ivy I've taken over the years? I find it hard to resist on a nice clear day, especially if there aren't any cars parked on the hill and the ivy is in full effect.
25 Mar 2021
I was honestly just about to do the homework from my oh-so-thrilling ITIL course when my friends Sarah and Vik asked me if I'd like to come out for a wander down the towpath with them. I enjoyed the company, the evening light and the delicate clouds.
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.
No, I did not witness some kind of accident or crime; I think Mum was dropping kid's coat down to Dad to save him coming back upstairs for it once they realised how cold it was outside.
I don't like it as a venue. It has awful drinks and the last couple of times I've been the place has been overstuffed with people but they haven't opened the upstairs area up to let more people see the band. Nevertheless I just booked tickets to see Wolf Alice there, as they're pretty much the only venue in town for a certain size of band. Maybe the new arena (sadly out of town, so I'd probably have to drive up to it) will at least be better than the Academy.
The nave, however, is from the original Priory, built in the second quarter of the twelfh century.
From Wikipedia:
"Morley supported abolitionism, a cause closely associated with 19th-century British Whigs and political radicals, and then the British Liberal party. He became treasurer of the fund to finance Josiah Henson, an escaped American slave who was given support in Britain. Josiah Henson later wrote Uncle Tom's Story of His Life: an Autobiography of the Rev. Josiah Henson (Mrs. Harriet Beecher Stowe's 'Uncle Tom'), from 1789 to 1876."
You'll notice nobody's been trying to throw his statue into the harbour.
The statue was moved to the Horsefair here from the corner of Baldwin Street and High Street in 1921, according to the notes on this Vaughan Collection postcard in the Bristol Archives. My guess would be that (as with quite a few other things at road junctions in Bristol, like Alderman Proctor's Fountain) it was moved out of the way as the increase in motor car traffic needed more room at the busy corner, but that is only a guess.
I'm reminded of what Gandhi said about Western Civilisation.
Former offices of the National Deposit Friendly Society.
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.
Tucked between Park Row and Park Street, you don't get many sightlines of these little towers.
01 Apr 2021
Another workday, another quick coffee excursion. This time I decided to swing past Sydney Row on the way back from the marina car park where Imagine That have their horsebox. I didn't know until recently that the terrace was built for workers at the adjacent dockyard.
I've also gradually come to the conclusion that I don't really think very two-dimensionally when it comes to finding my way around or associating one place with another. I only realised in the last few days that the odd industrial building that takes up the other half of Syndey Row, the one that's always covered with graffiti, is the back of the dockyard works. In my defence, as it's tucked away in a corner of the little industrial estate that I've never ventured into (I rarely find I have a need for the products of safety valve manufacturers), I don't think I've ever seen the front of the building...
I don't think I ever put two and two together before and worked out that this was the back of one of the industrial buldings on the Albion Dockyard. I'm not sure you can see it from the front, or at least not without wandering into the fairly private-looking works area.
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.
The Guardian's obit calls her "a saviour of historic Bristol".
At that time, there were 400 buildings in the city earmarked for demolition but Dorothy, who was instrumental in their listing, managed to save most of them, including the 18th-century Brunswick Square in St Paul's, via many public inquiries. Among her later successes, Dorothy helped to save the Clifton lido – dating from 1849, it is one of the oldest surviving lidos in Britain – which nearly succumbed to a developer's bulldozer in the late 1990s.
This is now Alma Church.
According to the ever-useful churchdb:
It was founded in 1871 as a daughter church of Bethesda Chapel in Great George Street, Brandon Hill, and was called "Clifton Bethesda" to distinguish it.
I didn't remember noticing the original Bethesda Chapel on Great George Street and apparently I didn't miss it—it seems from churchdb that it was hit by a bomb during WWII and later demolished. The KYP map from after the war shows its outline on the corner of Charlotte Street South, tagged "Ruin", and there's a picture of it. It's back to being grassland on Brandon Hill now, pretty much exactly where this earlier photo was taken.
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.
I don't know if either this fountain or the beech tree were placed to mark the former gibbet in some way.
10 Apr 2021
There's a bit of Southville that I've been meaning to get to for some time, where the streets seem to take some strong inspiration from London. There's a Camden Road that crosses with an Islington Road, and a Dalston Road, even an Edgeware Road. For me these names are more evocative than the rather more exotic names I passed by to get there—Sydney Row or Hanover Place, say, because I've actually been to the places in London. The last time I was in Islington I saw Monkey Swallows the Universe play at The Angel, and I can't think of Camden without remembering a gondola trip with my friend Tara where a cheery youth played Beatles music for us on a saz...
I really liked this little area, with its mostly well-kept pretty houses and hints here and there of the creative side of the residents. It's arty and down-to-earth at the same time, and I wouldn't mind living there, I think.
On the way there I got the chance to walk through Underfall Yard for the first time in a while, and on the way back I had my first take-away hot food for many months, grabbing some crispy fried squid from the excellent Woky Ko at Wapping Wharf.
I think this may be a remnant of St Raphael's Church, whose adjacent almshouses for aged seamen are now the site of the flats at Perret's Court, just to the left there.
Ah! Yes, according to ChurchCrawler:
1853-9 by Henry Woodyer, closed 1878 following disapproval of the bishop and not reopened until 1893. Some war damage, the church was again closed and became part of a factory in 1953 and demolished 1954. Part of the W front still stands in the garden between two blocks of flats.
A famous contralto, apparently. Contralto Corner quotes Sir Thomas Beecham:
"On a clear day, you could have heard her across the English Channel"
...and notes that:
She gained her DBE as a result of the WWI concerts that she organized.
It's the Malankara Mar Thoma Syrian Church, often shortened to Mar Thoma Church:
Reformed Oriental church based in Kerala, India. While continuing many of the Syriac high church practices, the church is reformed in its theology and doctrines. It employs a reformed variant of the West Syriac Rite Divine Liturgy of Saint James, translated to Malayalam.[
It surprised me to find it on a random street in Bedminster, but I don't know much about religion, or Bristol's Syrian community, assuming that that might be the flock, in general?
There's an Eaton Crescent in Clifton, too. I wonder which Eaton they're referencing, if it's the same one?
For some reason I always want to shoot the area around Wapping Wharf in black and white. I think it's the architecture.