Tagged: hotwells
Jaunt to a Closed Coffee Shop
17 Nov 2020
A fruitless wander, as Spoke and Stringer (who I thought might do a decent flat white) were closed, and the only other harbourside inlet offering were a bit too busy to wait at, especially as I'd spent some time wandering some of the convolutions of Rownham Mead. This last congeries of dull alleyways and brown-painted garages was at least somewhere I've never been before, in parts.
There are yet more plans to turn this pub into yet more flats. I heard from a few different people that the owner has a habit of renting it to people but making them responsible for repairs, which normally turns out to be a bad deal for them as the place is falling apart. Of course, I've only heard that side of the story from the renters. I've experienced it in a few different forms, and in some of them it was a truly excellent local pub.
Up until the owner retired a few years ago, this was one of those great combination Chinese/fish & chip takeaway places, and I used to enjoy everything from the crispy chilli beef to the cod & chips.
A bethel ship was a kind of floating church; it would moor up near other ships and the sailors could board it for worship.
From what I can see in the National Archives, the Trinity Rooms was owned by Holy Trinity Church, which makes sense. I don't know what it's curently used for, though my guess would be that it was sold off and has been turned into flats.
I don't spend a lot of time in pubs, but if I had to choose a "local", this is the one I would choose. Welcoming, interesting, and often to be found with a nice fire burning in the winter. After the last time some fool drove their car through the front wall (this bend on the Hotwell Road appears to be a magnet for bad drivers), the boarding up was decorated with the bonnet badge of the offending vehicle, a Toyota, if I remember correctly.
I've walked along the Hotwell Road on the other side of this wall a thousand times—possibly ten thousand. Never seen this side of it before.
When the commuter ferry was still a thing—the council subsidy was cut in the wake of the last global recession—I used to wander through this little alleyway all the time to wait at the ferry stop at this little inlet for the boat to work. Happier times.
Quick Coffee
19 Nov 2020
A sunny day, and though I should have probably headed for less well-travelled territory I just headed over to the Marina to grab a flat white from Imagine That's horsebox café.
I have no idea how anyone managed to smack this street furniture so hard, or what direction they came from to do it. It's a pretty straight 30mph road right there, and this is only one side of the dual carriageway. Never seen so much as a near-miss there.
That a BMW came a tad too fast out of Clifton Vale, lost it completely and trashed the main control box for the traffic lights. It took them quite some time to fix it. I'd imagine his insurance company is getting quite the bill...
Underpass
25 Nov 2020
A quick lunchtime jaunt for coffee. I've often wondered about the dots on the wall of the underpass. Apparently they're not intelligible Braille. Maybe it's Marain :D
I really must try another long-exposure with ND filters here; it looks very strange with the water made artificialy still like that, and I enjoy the effect.
The Cumberland Basin Flyover System is indisputably ugly, I'd say. At least you get presented with the rather lovely pink of the Rose of Denmark when you get through it and swing around onto the main Hotwell Road into town.
The Gridiron and Bower Ashton Part Two
03 Dec 2021
On my last wander, to Bower Ashton, I was intending to knock Blackmoors Lane off my list "to-do" list, but got a bit diverted. I also took a little look into the history of the Gridiron, once a cheaper alternative to dry dock that was nestled just south of North Entrance Lock.
Today I had to go to send a parcel off somewhere, so I decided on going to the North Street Post Office via Blackmoors Lane. I didn't have much intention of anything else, but as luck would have it I walked out both at low tide and also as some lockkeepers seemed to be having a bit of a training session, and one of the more senior people was (a) happy to answer a few random questions on the Gridiron and (b) actually knew a lot about it, as Gridiron maintenance had been one of his jobs, more than twenty years ago...
Interesting to see a flatscreen TV left out in the traditional "please take this away for free" place, even if it is only a little Alba.
If you look at the lock wall, about halfway between the lock gates and the inset ladder, you'll see a little square hole. I had no idea what it was for until today, and I had no idea I was going to find out...
There were various people on the other side, I got the impression it was some kind of training session, perhaps. Later I'll have a quick chat with the man in the high-vis jacket over there.
In the meantime, I do always enjoy seeing the giant gridded lock gates uncovered by a low tide.
This used to be a view of the Gridiron, the structure I mentioned on yesterday's wander.
I got curious and went back to ask one of the lockkeepers about it. As it turned out, he knew lots about it as he'd previously been responsible for cleaning it! More about that when I come back (including a historical photo of a boat on the Gridiron for some context) as some of the things he told me needed me to retrace my steps for some more photos.
First, though, we'll nip over to Bower Ashton and North Streeet for a quick bit of shopping and to knock Blackmoors Lane of my "to do" list.
If you recall, before I left this area on the outbound leg of the wander, I had a chat with one of the more senior lockkeepers. He told me that the gridiron was definitely still there, and, look—there at the far left-hand side. What's that poking out of the silt?
Yes, having compared it with old photos and the 1946 aerial view I posted on Sunday I'm sure that that's the end of the gridiron, all 200 feet of which is apparently still there beneath the silt.
The lockkeeper told me that the gridiron was in use as recently as 2000, and that it used to be his job to wash the silt build-up away, using a sluicing system we'll get to in a moment.
I didn't realise I'd buggered up the focus on this shot until I got home and saw it on the big screen. They can't all be winners...
I've always wondered what this wheel is for. It's part of the Gridiron's cleaning system. Water is drawn from North Entrance Lock through a sluice channel and could be diverted one way and another across the surface of the gridiron. I wasn't clear from my conversation with the lockkeeper whether this would open the sluice channel or was the control used to divert the water first to the left of this central point of the gridiron, then to the right, but it's definitely part of the cleaning mechanism.
He said he also used to have to go down the ladder and hose it all down after sluicing it out, and that he found the whole process quite fun!
Bower Ashton is an interesting little area just south of the river from me—in fact, the Rownham Ferry used to take people over from Hotwells to Bower Ashton, operating from at least the twelfth century to around the 1930s.
It's a strangely contradictory little area, with a cluster of old and new houses sandwiched in between the busy A-roads and significantly more industrial area of Ashton and the bucolic country estate of Ashton court roughly east to west, and also between Somerset and Bristol, north to south.
I've been around here before, mostly poking around Bower Ashton's arguably most well-known bit, the Arts faculty campus of the University of the West of England, but I'd missed at least Parklands Road and Blackmoors Lane, so I initially planned just to nip across briefly and wander down each in turn. On a whim, though, I texted my friends Sarah and Vik in case they were out and about, and ended up diverting to the Tobacco Factory Sunday market first, to grab a quick flat white with them, extending my journey a fair bit.
To start with, though, I nipped to a much more local destination, to see something that you can't actually see at all, the Gridiron...
(I also used this wander as a test of the cameras in my new phone. I finally upgraded after a few years, and the new one has extra, separate wide and telephoto lenses compared to the paltry single lens on my old phone. Gawd. I remember when speed-dial was the latest innovation in phones...)
You can't actually see the Gridiron in this photo, but I believe it's still there, under that amazing buildup of silt.
The Gridiron—one of the few photos of it can be seen on the Maritime Mud and Miasma page of About Bristol—was a cheaper alternative to putting your boat in a dry dock. It was a 200-foot long grid (there seems to be some debate over whether the grid itself is actually metal, or in fact timber; I'll have to try to find out), 38 feet wide, nestled here between the north and south entrance locks. A ship captain could sail his vessel over here at high tide, then as the tide gradually receded, the ship—up to 250 feet, as overhanging a bit was apparently okay—would settle onto the gridiron.
At that point an inspection and repair crew could make their way down to the gridiron by ladder and do whatever work they could manage before the tide rose up again.
You can still see some ladders in place, I can only presume they were there to get you down to the gridiron, but that is just a guess; information on it seems quite hard to find.
Image from 1946 Aerial layer of KYP Bristol/English Heritage.
As you can see, it was pretty big, and clearly still in use in 1946...
One last snap before we move on. I'm using the wide lens on the iPhone here, and have managed to include a silhouette selfie...
I decided to try out the three lenses on my new iPhone camera. This is the "telephoto" lens. It does a reasonably creditable job, though the phone is oversharpening things a bit and I'm not sure I like the colours much.
And here's the middling lens on the camera. Not bad, though on every shot I've taken on the iPhone so far where it's been able to see blue sky it's managed to oversaturate it for my tastes. Still, I guess they're aiming at the mass market, and the mass market does seem to like oversaturated colour and the sharpening turned up to eleven.
Not bad, and it's certainly better than not having a wide-angle lens in your pocket everywhere you go. I won't complain too much. "My iPhone oversaturates my photos. Also my wallet is too small for my fifties and my diamond shoes are pinching..."
