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...
I was heading for my usual mid-walk picnic bench but I guess they're logging in that area right now, so I had to divert.
The towpath is a lovely stroll in weather like this. Waterproof walking shoes help, though, as the puddles are often wide enough to span the entire width. I baptised my new walking shoes on this trip.
There's been a lot of logging in Leigh Woods recently. Some of it is to control Ash Dieback, some of it to make way for the reintroduction of native trees.
Presumably, at some point in the past, the electric lines rising out of the ground here were actually connected to somewhere else from this post.
The going is normally a little firmer here. I guess that tractor's been going back and forth a lot, and the recent near-continuous rain probably hasn't helped.
I knew that bits of the Purple Path in the woods were on my map but as-yet-unwalked, so I figured I'd do the loop. I couldn't easily check any maps as Leigh Woods is pretty much a black spot for mobile data. That's one of the reasons I like it, really: you're surprisingly out-of-touch in these woodlands. A shortish walk out of the city and you're in a forest with no access to Instagram or Twitter or what-have-you.
Making sure I'm still on the Purple trail. It wasn't far from here I bumped into Patsy, an erstwhile colleague who apparently still has one of my photos up in her house, which is nice to know. She was looking positively healthy—apparently retirement suits her. She's already been for a swim before her forest walk, so she's clearly keeping fit...
One of my two favourite trees in the woods, the other being the giant redwood in the Leigh Court arboretum area.
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 :)
Here's an interesting little place—not that I'm athetic enough to climb into it like the graffiti artists who've clearly been at work. This little disused quarry was a police firing range for a while, and the last time I wandered into it, perhaps ten years ago—I happened to walk past while it was unlocked for some reason—you could still see the piles of old tyres and other ricochet-deadening material that would have lain behind the targets.
Well, the gate is pretty secure. I understand that if you're an agile teenager it's not that hard to get in, but if I ever had any wild trespassing days they're long over now :)
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.
19 Jun 2021
I hadn't really planned to go out for a wander yesterday; I just got the urge and thought "why not?" (Well, the weather forecast was one possible reason, but I managed to avoid the rain, luckily.)
I wanted to finish off the A369—as it turns out I may still have a small section to go, but I've now walked the bulk of it out to my one-mile radius—and also a few random tracks in Leigh Woods. I'm still not really sure that I'm going to walk them all, especially after discovering today that "the map is not the territory" applies even more in the woods, where one of the marked tracks on the map wasn't really that recognisable as a track in real life... I'm glad I'd programmed the route into the GPS in advance!
Anyway. A pleasant enough walk, oddly bookended, photographically at least, by unusual vehicles. Leigh Woods was fairly busy, especially the section I'd chosen, which was positively dripping with teenage schoolkids with rah accents muttering opprobrium about the Duke of Edinburgh. I'm presuming the harsh remarks were more about taking part in his award scheme than the late Consort himself, but I didn't eavesdrop enough to be certain...
My favourite tree in Leigh Woods. Some of the bricks from the wall are actually embedded in the trunk; presumably there was a period where people didn't keep moving the wall safely back away from the new growth.
I think it was Leigh Woods that taught me the difference between coppicing and pollarding.
Looking up the hill to the Iron Age fort of Stokeleigh Camp. We're going to do a loop of the perimeter.
This was allegedly the path on Open Street Map that I used to plan my walk; I'm glad I had the GPS to tell me it was a path, because it barely looks like one.
I don't think I've ever been next to these tracks when a train's gone down. I've sometimes seen it from the other side of the river, though. You can read a bit about the nearby disused station here; this used to be a passenger line, but it's freight-only now.
At some point I should dig back through my photos and see if I snapped this frame when it was first left locked to these railings as a full, complete bike.
24 Jan 2021
I started this wander with my "support bubble" Sarah and Vik, after Sarah texted me to say "SNOW!" We parted ways on the towpath and I headed up into the bit of Leigh Woods that's not actually the woods—the village-like part in between Leigh Woods and Ashton Court, where I'd noticed on a map a church I'd not seen before. I found St Mary the Virgin and quite a few other things I'd never experienced, despite having walked nearby them many, many times over many years, including a castellated Victorian water tower that's been turned into a house...
There's something quite pleasant about being able to walk to a different county. I've always liked passing the sign.
In EH Young's Chatterton Square, Rosamund describes a similar escape-to-the-countryside feeling when crossing the Suspension Bridge and heading for "Monks' Pool", which surely must be Abbot's Pool at Abbots Leigh in real life. I've actually swum there, I think the only time I've been "wild swimming" in the UK.
Between them, the old signs on the left and right pillar say ROWNHAM LODGE, but the modern metal sign says Rownham House. Are these the gates for both, or has it changed names?
25 Dec 2020
A Christmas Day walk with my friends Sarah and Vik, taking in the shipwrecked Shadow and a hilly chunk of Leigh Woods.
05 Nov 2020
I spotted the fog and decided to go for a morning walk rather than a lunchtime walk today. It was cold on the Portway, but it was worth it. Most of my One Mile Matt photos are "record shots", but it's nice to get the chance to do something a bit more artistic.
28 Oct 2020
Popped out for a coffee in Greville Smyth park, and got a view of the Andy Council work on the side of the Ashton Avenue sewage pumping station on the way back.
12 Nov 2020
My goal is walk down every public road within a mile of me; sometimes it's not easy to tell what's public. I've passed the turning for Cornwallis Grove a thousand times, but never had a reason to venture down it, and although the street signs at the end seem to be council-deployed and I didn't spot any "private" signs, it's a gated road and definitely feels private.
Gathering all the white middle-class privilege I could muster, I wandered down and was rewarded with the sight of a Victorian pump, a statue of Jesus, and from the end of the road, a view of a private garden that once belonged to a private girls' school.
The Cornwallis House history page says:
In the early 20th century the house, together with Grove House, became a Catholic school, St Joseph’s High School for Girls. The Congregation of La Retraite took over the school in 1924, with the nuns living in Grove House while the schoolrooms were in Cornwallis House. The headmistress was Mother St Paul de la Croix (Sister Paula Yerby). By the 1970s La Retraite High School had around 700 pupils.
It closed in 1982 and the building was bought by Pearce Homes Ltd (now part of Crest Nicholson) who developed it into 21 flats. Grove House next door was bought by the Bristol Cancer Help Centre, and was later converted into flats in 2007.
14 Nov 2020
A local walk with my friend Lisa in tow, including a coffee from the cafe in the Clifton Observatory, where I have fond memories of experiencing my first camera obscura, and cake from Twelve in Clifton Village, one of my favourite recent finds for both food and flat whites.