10 Jul 2021
Lisa had a couple of hours to spare before going up in a hot air balloon (exciting!) so we went for a quick local walk, revisiting a bit of Cliftonwood we've seen before, exploring the secret garden I'd visited before that I thought she'd enjoy (I didn't take any new photos there) and then pushing on to another garden, Cherry Garden. Last time we passed this way, I'd noticed the gate, but we hadn't gone in as I'd assumed it was private. I'd since found it on CHIS's list of communal gardens in Clifton, so I wanted to have a look inside this time, and try to figure out whether it was private-communal or public, and possibly Council-owned, like several of the other gardens in Clifton.
Seemed to be open and busy, which is good. It's always been a good, friendly pub, but I understand it's been on the verge of closure a couple of times recently.
13 Jul 2021
A snappy little trip up the Zig Zag to the shops. It's a steep old route, the Zig Zag, going from just over river level to about the height of the suspension bridge (101 metres) in a compact switchback of a footpath.
I was too busy struggling to breathe to take many snaps of the actual Zig Zag (I've been trying to make it up all the way without stopping the last few times, but I've not quite managed it yet). I did at least take a few snaps either side on this quick lunchtime jaunt to fetch coffee (Coffee #1) and a sarnie (Parsons) from Clifton Village...
But I don't think it's the original end -- if you check this picture from a history pamphlet I posted on Twitter you'll see that it looks like the Colonnade used to curve around rather more, and there's an even better view on this drawing from the British Library collection of Hotwell Parade. Looking at the historic basemap layers there on KYP it certainly seems like sometime between 1855 and 1874 (both Ashmead maps) the first couple of houses in the terrace were lopped off, leaving only numbers 3, 4, 5 and 6. I imagine they were shaved off at the same time as the second Hot Well House was demolished, which was in 1867. It used to stand on Hotwell Point, sticking out into the river, and the whole lot was removed to ease navigation.
I've never actually looked at the Colonnade door numbers to see if they're still like that—I'll try to remember the next time I pass.
One of many fine old lamp posts in Clifton Village. The late, great Maggie Shapland apparently used to keep an eagle eye on them and make sure they were returned if they were ever carted off for repair. The Clifton Club lurks grandly in the background.
Although you may immediately think "gas lamp", here's an extract from Electric Arc Lamps in Bristol by Peter Lamb, published as a supplement to the Histelec News, newsletter of the Western Power Electricity Historical Society:
In looking at old photographs of late Victorian or early Edwardian scenes, many of you may have noticed very decorative street lights gracing the foregrounds. These lamp standards had long cylindrical shapes above the lamp, which distinguished them as being electric arc lamps. You may have wondered, like me, what was inside these housings. These cylinders, known colloquially at the turn of the century as “chimneys” were not chimneys at all, but housed the complex mechanisms regulating the carbon electrodes. Only two lamp standards of this distinctive design remain as street furniture on the Bristol streets and these are situated at The Mall, Clifton Village.
17 Jul 2021
Okay, not much in the way of actual pasture to be had in Bedminster these days, like most of Bristol, but I did take advantage of the current rather toasty weather in Bristol to go and sit under a tree in Greville Smyth Park to read a book for a while before firing up the GPS and taking a little detour around some back streets of Ashton and Bedminster rather than going straight to Coffee #1 for an espresso frappé. This is the first walk in a while where I've actually crossed off an entire new street (the frankly unexciting Carrington Road) as well as exploring a couple of back alleys, just because they were there, really. Along the way I spotted a few examples of graffiti of various qualities, including a live work-in-progress by SNUB23 on Ashton Road and the finished Six Sisters project on North Street.
I'd noticed I'd missed this end bit of Durnford Street in previous wanders, so on my way to knocking off some full-length roads (and alleyways, as it turned out) I took a snap. It's not very prepossessing.
...on Bendy Studio, by Nick Harvey. Shame I couldn't get a clear shot. I do like a Siamese fighting fish...
Not much to say, really. The strange mock-Tudor upper halves of the right-hand-side of the street were about the only distinguising feature, and personally I'm not sure that's distinguishing in a good way.
I've clearly sniped this one from the end of the road on a previous pass, but this is definitely the first time I've actually walked the length of it.
This Scandinavian design shop has replaced the Hobbs House Bakery Cafe. While I enjoy Scandinavian design, anyone who's looked at my interior design and then looked at my actual exterior can fairly swiftly work out that I enjoy bread rather more. Still, I can get my hands on a Sherston Overnight White (best loaf in the world for toasting, according to both Hobbs House and to me) elsewhere, and clearly Mon Pote needed the extra space—this location is four times the size of their previous one, which was also much further up the road.
25 Jul 2021
The far east of the intersection of my one-mile radius and Bedminster, anyway. I was feeling a bit tired this morning, so I motivated myself to get out of the door by imagining one of Mokoko's almond croissants. That got me on my way, and I wandered across to Bedminster, through Greville Smyth Park, along most of the length of North Street (looking out for new Upfest 75-pieces-in-75-days artwork as I went) and then onto some new roads at the far end.
I only wanted to knock a few streets off my "to do" list, but by the time I'd diverted here and there to check out various bits of graffiti and other attractions and come back via the aforementioned purveyors of Bristol's finest croissants, I'd walked 7.4km. Not bad for someone who woke up tired, and at least I've done something with my day. I'm very glad the weather broke (we had tremendous thunderstorms yesterday), even if some of the pictures might've looked better with a blue sky. I was getting fed up with walking around in 29°C heat...
Well, like last time there's still a van and a car in the way, but at least the van's smaller this time.
Keith Hopewell's piece is one that got vandalised a few days ago, apparently by someone who hates Upfest. It seems to be mostly intact, though, barring the bit in the bottom right (close-up next pic.) Perhaps it was mostly saved by the CCTV camera that appears to be growing out of the girl with her back to us's left leg...
I like this piece, especially the somewhat Samuri-looking robot/cyborg/whatever-he-is.
At last—one of my "to-do" streets. It wasn't much to write home about; it's got that odd setup where the front of one terrace looks onto the garages and back gardens of another. That never feels quite right to me, whether it's in Bedminster or Clifton.
I would have looked a lot more summery during the heatwave of the last week, but luckily for my ability to walk around without instantly turning into a puddle of sweat the weather broke yesterday.
As you'd expect from England, Summer Street is pretty short. People claim it was George II who said that "the British summer is three fine days and a thunderstorm", but there's no great evidence as to who actually coined the phrase.
31 Jul 2021
At the end of July I went to have a look around some of the private gardens opened up by the annual Green Squares and Secret Gardens event. Sadly it was compressed into a single day this year, for various Covid-related reasons, it seems, so I didn't get to poke around too many places. I went to:
And snapped a few things in between, too. It was a lovely day—a bit too hot, if anything—and it was interesting to get into a few places I'd only ever seen from the outside, especially The Paragon and Cornwallis gardens, which are the least visible to passing strangers of all of them.
This section of Victoria Square, the second side to be built (Lansdown Road is the oldest—Regency—bit) is called Royal Promenade, and it built to resemble a palace. William Batemen Reed built it, then went on to build the Queens Hotel opposite the Victoria Rooms, which every Bristolian I know would more likely recognise by the description "the old Habitat at the top of Park Street" :D
Here's the listing. This bit's described thus:
To the rear a late C19 long brick extension raised on open arches
I've been trying to get a decent picture of this for a while.
Freshly painted, with the scaffolding only recently removed, and looking rather lovely. To its right is the old entrance to the earlier Hotwell pump house that used to stand down on the Hotwell Road, and just to the right of that is the entrance to the Clfiton Rocks Railway. Behind all that is the site of the original Clifton Spa pump room, a grand "long room" that was later used as a cinema and then a ball room. I wonder if there are any plans to renovate it? It was still disused, last I heard, but that was a long time ago, when I peeped through from a Rocks Railway open day....
08 Aug 2021
This was a wide-ranging wander. I started off crossing the river to Bedminster, to walk a single little cul-de-sac, Hardy Avenue, that I'd managed to miss on at least one previous walk. Then, pausing only to explore a few back alleyways, I headed for a few destinations related mostly by the Hughes family, who I've been researching a little as part of background for a possible novel, as several of them were involved in the Stella Matutina.
However, mostly it's the artistic side of the family I wanted to explore today, as that's where most of their public history lies (as you might expect, there's often not much in the public record about the workings of an occult organisation.) First I visited College Green, where the façade of the Catch 22 Fish & Chip shop still bears the work of Catherine Edith Hughes. Then I wandered up to the top of Park Street to pop into the Clifton Arts Club's annual exhibition, as Catherine, her half-brother Donald, his wife Hope and at least two other Hugheses were members. Donald was chairman for 40 solid years; Hope was Secretary for eight, and Ellard and Margaret Hughes, two more Hughes siblings, were members along with Catherine.
Finally I walked home with a small diversion to Berkeley Square, to confirm the location of Donald Hughes's house by checking for a particular plaque by the front door.
I must admit I'm not entirely sure where all this research is really leading me, but I'm finding it quite interesting to bump across the faint lines of history that link the Hermetic Order of the Golden Dawn, founded in 1888, to modern, quotidian Bristol.
This may be a more interesting view than you'd think at first sight. Whitemead and Winterstoke House, with Southbow House out of sight on the far side, were finished in 1962, as the post-War housing crisis continued. There's a fascinating article in the Bristol Post about them, especially Whitemead House, the block on the left here, which was famously used for external scenes in Only Fools and Horses after filming moved to Bristol, standing in for the fictional Nelson Mandela House in Peckham where the Trotters lived.
These days it's a fish and chip shop, but it started as the Cabot Cafe.
According to this description of an etching by Alexander Heaney:
Built in 1904 for an estate agent, Walter Hughes, to the design of Latrobe & Weston, architects well known for their cinemas. Above the word ‘Café’ can just be seen the Pomegranate mosaic with enamel insets by the client's daughter, Catherine Hughes, taken from Charles Rickett's bookbinding for Oscar Wilde's A House of Pomegranates, 1891.
Caroline's Miscellany tells us:
Less bright, but equally beautiful, are the copper panels to either side. These continue the pomegranate theme and are pure Art Nouveau. Other details, by contrast, are more baroque (a mixture of styles characteristic of LaTrobe and Weston's work).
Cabot Cafe suffered damage in the Second World War. We are fortunate, then, that this intriguing facade nevertheless survived to delight us today.
I reckon this is probably the Co-Op's air conditioning. Don't tell me I never take you anywhere exciting.
It's almost like I planned this in advance. This is the 111th annual open exhibition of the Clifton Arts Club, founded 1906.
The Clifton Arts Club featured several members of the Hughes family. The three I'm interested in are Catherine Huges, of the earlier pomegranates, her brother Donald Hughes, and his wife Hope Hughes. They were all at some point members of the Stella Matutina as well as various arts groups in the city. Donald was a member of the Bristol Savages—ahem, sorry, Bristol 1904 Arts, as they've recently rebranded—and apparently something of a leading light on the Bristol art scene.
Continuing with my magical/Hughes related theme: the last time I was in Berkeley Square, I was trying to figure out where the vault of the Hermes Temple might have been destroyed; a passing mention of its destruction in Ithell Colquhoun's Sword of Wisdom says it was stored in Berkeley Square and destroyed in 1964.
The Vault would have been a septagonal wooden room with esoteric symbols painted on every surface. The Museum of Witchcraft in Boscastle have a picture of one towards the bottom of this page. That one, in Havelock North, New Zealand, would have looked very similar to the Bristol Hermes vault, I think, as they were contemporary Stella Matutina vaults and they were probably each at least partly designed by Robert Felkin, who emigrated from Bristol to New Zealand to form the Smaragdum Thalasses temple there.
This is the site of a proposed wildflower meadow, suggested for rewilding by West Bristol Climate Action. It's normally host to quite a few daffodils in spring, but mostly it's just lawn. (These paths curving up to the churchyard would have made rather more sense when St Andrews was still standing there.)
Not sure what progress the proposal has made, but I think a splash of wild colour would go quite well here.
24 Sep 2021
A quick lunchtime jaunt to Clifton Village. Along the way I admired the new sign on Hope Chapel and added to my tsundoku collection.
Among the many arguments about this pedestrianisation experiment, there has been quite the sub-debate over the delightfully modern COR-TEN steel steel/hideously ugly rusty* planters.
25 Sep 2021
I needed to pop to the library, as they'd kindly dug a book out of the reserve store at the B Bond warehouse for me and emailed me to let me know it was ready. So, I took a little trip to town, straight down the Hotwell Road, and spent a few hours reading before stretching my legs with a walk to a new cafe in the actual castle (or remnants thereof, anyway) of Castle Park, before heading back home down the other side of the harbour. As well as books and coffee, I bumped into a remote-controlled pirate ship, which isn't something you see every day, even in Bristol.
It's nice to see a new business open up on this stretch of the Hotwell Road. Since Asia Channel disappeared (and took with it my favourite local source of crispy beef) and the Hotwells Pine folks retired, it's all been looking a bit tatty.
Have I ever looked up and noticed the view above Western Car Radio, which looks like perhaps the terraced back garden of St George's Primary? If I have, I don't seem to have snapped it before.
There are some unexpected links between Triodos Bank and some of the magical stuff I've been researching. I first found out when I checked the upcoming events at the Bristol Theosophical Lodge and saw a director of the bank would be giving a talk there. Apparently the bank is rooted in the ideas of Rudolf Steiner's anthroposophy. The Guardian says:
Its roots (like the UK bank Mercury Provident, which it took over in 1995), are in the anthroposophy movement. This refers to the ideas of the Austrian spiritualist thinker Rudolf Steiner, who died in 1925 and whose interests included education, 'biodynamic' agriculture, eurythmy (movement as art) and therapeutic medicine.
Triodos Bank's statutes committed it to anthroposophical principles until 1999, when this formal link was dropped, and in recent years the bank, under its current head Peter Blom, has embarked on a policy of reaching out beyond Steiner adherents and of broadening its appeal. Nevertheless, Triodos's origins are reflected in the fact that most of the Dutch directors come from within anthroposophy, and it is banker for many Steiner-inspired projects.
Rear of King Street. I would say "interesting frontage", but presumably this is interesting backage.
There's a deeply disturbing reason that this rabbit has been crossed out, but I've written that up in a later Wander, so you'll have to wait for an upcoming photo in October.
I recently indulged myself by buying a little piece of history. I've mentioned Samuel Loxton and featured and linked to his drawings before, often in the eminently browsable Loxton Collection albums that Bristol Libraries has on Flickr. So when I saw a Loxton drawing of Hotwells pop up on eBay, I decided to get myself a little treat.
I don't think there's any Loxton drawing that features the road I actually live in—it's not very visible from anywhere else, not being one of these Clifton terraces that's perched at the top of a hill, or anything like that, and it's invisible in most views of the area. However, this Loxton drawing, Hotwells, Looking across the river from near the Clifton Bridge station, is probably the closest near-miss I've seen.
I decided to wander out one morning and see if I could reproduce the picture, and also take a photo or two of what's now become of the Clifton Bridge Station, which is still just about discernible in places.
(Then on an even stranger whim I decided to check out a possible little cut-through from Cumberland Road to the harbourside I'd been eyeing up on my commute to work, so walked to Wapping Wharf for a croissant via this potential new route, but that bit's not quite as interesting...)
Well, they may have a point. This is Vauxhall Bridge, previously the site of Vauxhall Ferry. People seem to guess it must have had some connection with Bristol's Vauxhall Pleasure Gardens, but that seems unlikely to me, given that they were not long-lived and closed down before the New Cut was dug, so they woudln't have needed a ferry here...
09 Oct 2021
I could spend a lot of time at the Docks Heritage Weekend, poking my nose into industrial places along the harbourside that are usually closed off, but throw open their doors once a year to show off a bit of the backstage area of Bristol's floating harbour. In fact, I warn you: the next wander is a long one, and will have quite a few photos.
However, for today's wander, on the Saturday, my friend Lisa needed a shorter walk than our usual long rambles, as she's recovering from an operation and still a little under the weather, so we just wandered into town for some food and back, with me making mental notes of the places I wanted to come back to on the Sunday... We walked through Underfall Yard, along to the L Shed (this is the warehouse next to the M Shed museum, where they still have the kind of fun old industrial stuff that used to be crammed into the M Shed's predecessor, the old Industrial Museum), through the street food market in town to Ahh Toots for cake and then back home. So, still quite a walk, but no hills and not so much of Lisa having to hang around waiting for me to fool around taking photos as usual, at least...
I figured I'd try a bit of street photography, seeing as there were actually people around. This isn't bad for a from-the-hip shot, but I'm a bit out of practice, as you'd expect.