Tagged: infrastructure
Solstice Rain
21 Dec 2020
Despite the weather, Sarah and Vik and I wandered around Ashton Court a bit as the sun rose. Not that you could really tell. Sadly, the bit we wanted to watch the sunrise from was closed, because people hadn't been treating the deer with appropriate respect. Ah well, at least it was some exercise.
The yellow is the lights of Ashton Gate Stadium. I know nothing of football or its stadia, but it seems a bit odd to leave them on all night.
On Christmas Day in the Morning
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.
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.
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.
Though those are technically setts rather than cobbles, I think. Not that it makes any difference to the average person.
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.
Despite its looks, this is neither of the two footpaths actually called the Zig Zag (the Zig Zag itself, closer to town, and the New Zig Zag, further out.) This is in fact the Bridge Valley Path
A Promenade on New Year's Day
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"...
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.
Tiny Houses, Crocodiles and Views
05 Jan 2021
I didn't really intend to record my walk today, but once I was out and about I couldn't really resist taking some pictures. The sun was lovely, but it was cold...
Prince's Lane
06 Jan 2021
The International Grotto Directory website says:
Prince’s Lane might have been one of the original ancient tracks from Hotwells to Clifton, in the Avon Gorge. The site later formed part of Rownham Woods which comprised some thirteen acres. By the end of the 18th century and the early 19th century, the Society of Merchant Venturers granted to Samuel Powell a building lease, for The Colonnade (1786), St. Vincent’s Parade (1790), Prince’s Buildings (1796), and Rock House. Rock House is generally considered to be the oldest surviving building associated with the Hotwell (see Chapter 20). John Power conveyed part of the woods to William Watts for the construction of Windsor Terrace (1790-1808).
The above development of the Avon Gorge cleared Rownham Woods, and created a triangle of land on the north side of the gorge, that became enclosed as a result, by Mansion Houses, whose garden walls all entered on to Prince’s Lane. The Lane started at the bottom of the gorge, at the base rock of Windsor Terrace, and came out half way up Sion Hill. It is clearly shown as a public footpath, dotted with trees, in Ashmead’s map of 1828. Some of the gardens were quite steep in parts and therefore, had to be terraced, because of the gradient of the gorge.
I've passed Prince's Lane literally thousands of times in my life, every time I've walked past the Avon Gorge Hotel, which itself started (in 1898) as the Grand Clifton Spa and Hydropathic Institution and pumped water up from the Hot Well for its hydropathic treatments. I've never actually ventured down it until today, or at least nothing like as far down it as I did this afternoon—I may have poked my head around the back of the hotel to see the original pump rooms at some point in the past.
This was a great wander, though it does very much feel like a private road, and frankly I may have been pushing my luck a bit by winding my way between the astoundingly big back gardens of the houses of some presumably very wealthy Cliftonites, but I felt vaguely justified in exploring the history of one of the oldest footpaths in my part of Bristol...
Or the first sight of them in the distance, anyway. The terrace on the left is Prince's Buildings; we'll be walking being their gardens in a bit...
This was a pretty astounding space, by all accounts, in the style of a Georgian "long room" or assembly room, with the added bonus of a fountain of the Hot Well water being pumped up from the spring below. There are some pictures here of the interior.
It seems someone ignominious for it to end up boarded over with cars and portaloos scattered around it.
A Little Local Wander
07 Jan 2021
Which included a literal "local", the Pump House, to try out their shop/deli/cafe. A flat white, some apples and a New York Deli toastie. Eleven quid, mind, but the Pump House was never a cheap pub...
I enjoyed the fog, and wandering down a few more out-of-the-way back alleys and what-have-you on the Hotwell Road.
I'm thinking of getting up early and going for a morning walk tomorrow, weather-depending, but at the moment my motivation to do things like this seems to be much strong in the evenings when I'm just thinking about it rather than in the morning when I actually have to do it. But it's going to be cold, and low tide is quite early, so there's always a chance of getting some footage of the hot well actually being visibly hot; you never know...
I decided to explore the Freeland Place car park briefly today. As expected it's basically just a car park, though at least it links up with Hinton Lane at the bottom so I didn't have to retrace my steps.
It's a private estate, but I figured nobody would object too much if I wandered straight through. I don't push my way into private areas too much on these walks—my intention in the first place was to only walk down public roads—but sometimes my curiosity about a place I've walked past for decades but never set foot on gets the better of me.
It helps, I'm sure, that I'm white, approaching middle age and have a vaguely RP accent. Plus I do my best to look as un-furtive as possible and only wander through private areas in broad daylight and carrying a big obvious camera, which might be helping rather than hindering. In all the years I've been walking around places and poking my nose in I've never been asked to leave anywhere, anyway, so I've been taking that as a sign that my hopefully-repectful approach is working.
I didn't realise this was just a car park and an entrance to a couple of the flats. I exited quite quickly once I'd worked that out. I did spot a gate that looked like it might lead through to the rest of the estate, but I didn't try it.
Mirror Maze
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.
One of the roads I used to walk down regularly on my way home from a job at the top of Whiteladies Road. I used to enjoy cutting through here and crossing through the closed-to-cars bit just around from the Lido at the far end.
The pillar vents next to double-doored pavement covers are a dead giveaway. Many of Bristol's electrical substations are hidden underground like this. If you're brave enough to put your nose near the vent and inhale you'll get a whiff of hot, dry air with the metallic taint of a large electric transformer.
Northern Clifton
16 Jan 2021
A raggedy wander with my friend Lisa, picking up a few stray streets and venturing only briefly onto Whiteladies Road, where it was too damn busy, given the current pandemic. We retreated fairly quickly. Found a couple of interesting back alleys, and got a very pointed "can I help you?" from a man who was working in his garage in one of the rather run-down garage areas behind some posh houses, and clearly didn't want us just wandering around there.
I don't know whether it's the colour or the general cueteness, but Pembroke Mews always catches my eye.
The gates to Whiteladies House, which is the building on the right here. (in the distance is Oakfied Court, which has its entrance on Oakfield Road.)
