In which our intrepid hero levels up.
Most of Bristol's bridges have the coat of arms on them. Not quite sure what's going on with the snake.
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.
20 Nov 2020
Just a quick wander up the hill to get a flat white from Twelve. I really enjoyed the spooky mannequin (?) in the window.
I'm not sure what's going on in this fanlight on Richmond Terrace. Maybe it's space for a lamp?
21 Nov 2020
A rather more wide-ranging weekend wander with Sarah and Vik, taking in some mock Tudor bits of Bedmo (I should note that I've subsequently been corrected to "Bemmie", but I'm an outsider and have been calling it "Bedmo" for short for decades...), a chunk of Ashton, a path up Rownham Hill called Dead Badger's Bottom(!), The Ashton Court estate, a bit of the UWE campus at Bower Ashton, and some of the Festival Way path.
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.
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
Coincidentally, I deployed the word "corral" in an email the other day. I double-checked my spelling first, though.
Apparently this isn't Braille. Could be Marain, I suppose. It's also on some of the pillars, from what I remember.
21 Nov 2020
A trip up the hill to get my winter flu jab. I'm not sure I really needed it this year, what with avoiding Covid—I haven't had so much as a sniffle in more than a year—but seeing as they offered... Instead of the doctor's surgery on Pembroke Road, they'd taken over Christ Church, presumably to give more room and ventilation for the necessary social distancing at the moment. As usual, it was their typically efficient operation, and I was in and out in about three minutes.
On the way there and back I snapped as much as I could, but I wanted to be home in time for the first online Times Crossword Championship. As it turned out, I needn't have bothered, as the technology at the Times couldn't keep up with the demand from competitors, and their system just collapsed under the weight of page-views. They tried again the day after, and it collapsed just as badly. Maybe next year...
This wander is split into two parts, as I turned my tech off to go into Christ Church for my jab. The walk home can be found over here.
26 Nov 2020
I took the day off my day job to do my accounts—or at least do enough bookkeeping to send them to my accountant. I hate doing the books. I woke up late, tired and with a headache and decided to bunk off for a walk around Cliftonwood, Clifton Village and Clifton instead, taking in a couple of good coffees along the way. Thanks, Foliage Café, and Twelve for the flat whites.
In Bristol, as in many other large cities, "1B" normally means "someone managed to cram a tiny extra flat into somewhere improbably and now the postman needs help finding it."
A rubai from The Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam:
Perplext no more with Human or Divine,
To-morrow's tangle to the winds resign,
And lose your fingers in the tresses of
The Cypress — slender Minister of Wine.
Elizabeth Blackwell, born in Bristol in 1821, was the the first female physician on the medical register of the General Medical Council, and the first woman to receive a medical degree in the United States.
The Elizabeth Blackwell Medal is awarded annually to a woman who has made significant contribution to the promotion of women in medicine
05 Dec 2020
Back to Cliftonwood for a wander that included some of the belle views of Bellevue Crescent and other bits of the easternmost part. Highlights included watching someone bump-starting an elderly Nissan Micra in the narrow confines of Bellevue Crescent.
Part of the wall has collapsed. It seems like the Council don't want to do anything about it until they can figure out the exact ownership, though local residents are urging them to fix it and worry about recovering money from anyone who might be responsible for some of the repair costs later.
Well, she's a decorative figure supporting something. But not truly a caryatid, I feel. She also strongly reminds me of Stephen Fry.
The third in a trio of unusual faces, this fella's been catching my eye from a high point on Princes Buildings for years.
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...
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...
You can see how this sluice channel entrance in the side of the Entrance Lock wall is about level with the control wheel we saw on the far side—if you look closely, you can see it immediately to the left of and behind the modern building in the background. Given what the lockkeeper described to me, I'm confident that this is where the water for sluicing the Gridion clean of silt came from—they fill Entrance lock, then open the sluice to carry water—which must be under reasonable pressure with a full lock—across to the far side where the Gridiron is, washing off the accumulated silt.
Clever, these Bristol engineers: no actual pumping required. Just tides and gravity.
And that's the last of my musing on the Gridiron. I'm not sure why I became so fascinated by a giant Victorian boat-sieve, but I did!
It seems I got back just in time to photograph this sluice channel in North Entrance Lock before it was covered by the rising tide (the outer gates were open.)