Tagged: neighbourhood
Another quick excursion to Canon's Marsh, tempted back by Rod & Ruby's cannoli and flat white. This time I poked around some bits of the modern flats I'd not really experienced before, mused on the old gasworks, and headed back down the Hotwell Road, spotting a re-opening gallery and finishing off at the Adam & Eve, for which some locals are currently rushing to launch a bid to turn it into a community business rather than have a developer turn it into yet-more flats.
I was in a bouncy, positive mood, helped out by Life Without Buildings' Live at the Annandale Hotel album1. Note to self, though: the album is nearly an hour long, so if you hear the encore starting and you're still halfway down the Hotwell Road, you'll probably be late back from lunch...
1 That review's well worth a read. Music journalists tend to go extra-dreamy when trying to describe Sue Tompkins. See what I mean:
She circles her limber tongue-twisters, feints, and attacks from unexpected angles, dicing and rearranging them with the superhuman brio of an anime ninja and a telegraphic sense of lexical rhythm.
So new it doesn't seem to be on Google or Bing Maps yet, at least on the actual map bit, this is the one new build that stands alongside the two historic-building-conversion jobs (Purifier House and Engine House) at Brandon Yard, basically the site of the old gasworks.
They were one of the last sites to be regenerated, after some failed attempts to turn them into offices, including by the Soil Association. I don't know much about what they do in a gasworks, but I heard that the ground was highly polluted and needed a lot of remedial work before anything new could be put there.
I didn't get to all the little leftover streets around the northeastern part of my area in today's wander, but I definitely knocked a few off the list, plus Lisa and I enjoyed the walk, and didn't get rained on too badly. We spotted the hotting-up of Wisteria season, checked out Birdcage Walk (both old and new), ventured onto the wrong side of the tracks1 and generally enjoyed the architecture.
1 Well, technically we probably shouldn't have been on the grounds of those retirement flats, but nobody started chasing us around the garden with a Zimmer frame
A peek through the building site railings at the back of Worcester House, the grand house at the end of Worcester Terrace.
The places of worship are looking rather splendid in the sun today. The clock's right, too!
Alma Court, this time from my normal viewpoint, above the railway tracks on St John's Road.
Now the Everyman cinema, restored to its former use a few years back. It's pricey, but you get an armchair or sofa to sit on and they'll bring you food or a gin & tonic while you're there. Very civilised.
Originally put up in 1920, the ballroom and restaurant are now offices and pub.
I imagine Jess will be posting some wisteria pics soon. She's well worth following on instagram at any time of year, but especially during #wisteriahysteria season.
We liked this little house at 10 Belgrave Road. I wonder if it was popped up to replace something older, destroyed during the war?
I'm meant to be taking a little break from this project, but in my Victoria Square researches after my last walk I noticed a curiosity I wanted to investigate. The community layer on Know Your Place has a single photograph captioned, "The remains of an 'underpass' in Victoria Square".
Looking back through the maps, I could see that there really did used to be an underpass across what used to be Birdcage Walk. I can only guess that it was there to join the two halves of the square's private garden that used to be separated by tall railings that were taken away during WWII. Maybe it was a landscaping curiosity, maybe it was just to save them having to un-lock and re-lock two gates and risk mixing with the hoi polloi on the public path in the middle...
Anyway. Intrigued, I popped up to Clifton Village this lunchtime for a post-voting coffee, and on the way examined the remains of the underpass—still there, but only if you know what you're looking for, I'd say—and also visited a tiny little road with a cottage and a townhouse I'd never seen before, just off Clifton Hill, and got distracted by wandering the little garden with the war memorial in St Andrew's churchyard just because the gate happened to be open.
EDIT: Aha! Found this snippet when I was researching something completely different, of course. From the ever-helpful CHIS website:
When there were railings all round the garden and down the central path, in order that the children could play together in either garden there was a tunnel for them to go through. This was filled in during the 1970s but almost at the south east end of the path if one looks over the low wall the top of the arches can still be seen.
I wander on impulse down a little side-street I'd never really noticed before and find a curious cottage (Prospect Cottage, right) and a big 18th century listed house I've never seen before (Clifton Retreat, hidden behind the wisteria and other foliage ahead/left.)
If you'd shown me this photo before today, of a place I've been within spitting distance of thousands of times, I'd have not had a clue where it was. Bristol's fractal nature never ceases to amaze me.
And opposite Prospect Cottage, as if to give some direct contrast, the modern and anything-but-quaint goods entrance to the Nuffield Hospital.
It's resurfacing season in Clifton, it seems. Certainly there've been a lot of cones and warning signs around the place.
I saw this tweet the other day and started thinking of my second Covid-19 vaccination as my "Sequel Injection" (to a geek, it's funny. You'll have to take my word for it.) Whatever you call it, this morning I went and got it.
It was in the same place I got my initial injection—my left arm! No, okay, it was at the Clifton College Prep School. I didn't take any photos of the event itself; the NHS production line is so efficient you barely have time to do anything else, even if the privacy of other patients wasn't a factor.
Along the way I mused at all the road resurfacing going on in Clifton, and also discovered a secret (okay, not-well-known and possibly slightly trespassey) way into Canynge Square, and on the way back I knocked off a few streets from my "leftovers list" of north-east Clifton. I've got much of Clifton done now, with the only obvious "to dos" on the east side of Whiteladies Road...
It was quite a long walk, and I'm feeling pretty tired now, though that might be the effects of the jab too, I suppose. Anyway. Tomorrow and Monday I'm walking outside Bristol, I think, and I imagine my feet will need some recovery time on Sunday, so it might be a while before I post another Wander.
There were a lot of closed roads in Clifton this morning. I watched the white van at the end make its way carefully around the ROAD CLOSED signs at the village end of Observatory Road, drive past me, and get to where you can see it in the distance here before the driver was sent back with a flea in his ear from the workman on "stop the idiots driving through the newly-laid tarmac" duty.
Yup, what I thought led to a back garden or something is actually a strange little cut-through to the back of the Redgrave.
This is where I got the "ohhh, I know where we are..." moment: this is the other side of the weird bit around the back of Clifton Down shops, overlooking the oddly-placed private car park, adjacent to the little path with steps that people use to cut through to the shops from Alma Vale Road.
It's just off the main drag, but having a little garden that separates it from Oakfield Road makes it seem a little more private.
I didn't bother going down here, as it didn't look public and it didn't look interesting. But I figured I'd take a photo as a note-to-self that I hadn't actually missed a road.
Down the side of the Bristol Water building you can see the side of the mound that marks the covered Oakfield Road reservoir.
I wanted to take another snap of an interesting Gothic Revival place in Clifton, having found out a bit more about the owner. On the way I walked through the Clifton Vale Close estate, idly wondering again whether it might've been the site of Bristol's Vauxhall Pleasure Gardens (I've not researched further yet.) On the way back I knocked off the last remaining bit of Queens Road I had yet to walk and tried to find the bit of communal land that Sarah Guppy bought so as not to have her view built on...
It's an odd little nook. I imagine there's a quite expensive property back there. I've also never noticed the "OTF" carved into the near door pillar before.
Between the gate and the oriel, the keystone reads "The Mew House 1995".
The bricked-up door to the left seems to be an outbuilding in the incredibly grand-looking back garden of the Bishop's House. Speaking of which, here's a bonus pic of the Vicar of Clifton standing at the front door.
I foolishly didn't leave time to pop in and pick up a coffee on my way back from my outing.
"House. 1860. By JA Hansom. For himself."
Does the name Joseph Hansom sound familiar? As well as being the architect of this house, and, to pick a couple of things at random, Arundel Cathedral and Brimingham Town Hall, he also found the time to invent the Hansom Cab.
...lived here. You may remember seeing her gravestone in St Andrew's Churchyard...
Her Wikipedia entry notes:
She bought the land opposite the house for the benefit of Clifton residents and it still remains green space
While there is some green space opposite, it looks very private and seems to belong to Edgecumbe Hall (sometimes spelled Edgecombe, it seems...)
CHIS's Communal Gardens web page says:
Richmond Hill Gardens. ca 1830 This forms a key visual feature at the top of the triangle. There are specimens of at least 23 tree species, including a magnificent Weeping Beech, the finest in the city, and a Redwood, which is an offshoot of a tree cut down twenty years ago. The land was bought by Sarah Guppy (1770-1857) an inventor and designer who was consulted by Brunel. She lived in Richmond Hill and did not want any building opposite, so bought the land and made it communal. For many years it was a nursery garden but now it has become a well hidden car park for those houses to which it is attached.
...and lists it under "Private Communal Gardens", so I suppose it's not public, but it is communally-owned (and likely to have a covenant against building?) Seems a bit of a shame it's ended up as a car-park.
I just nipped up to Clifton Village to get a coffee, though I did manage to walk down a little alleyway I'd not really noticed before. Or perhaps I had noticed it and it looked private, but today I felt like wandering up its twenty or so feet anyway... The reflections in the shop windows on Boyce's Avenue gave me the idea to take a few snaps of them, so that's the majority of my small amount of snapping today.
Well, not now it isn't. The church was demolished (after spending some post-war time deconsecrated as St Andrew's Hall) to make way for flats in 1975. There are some photos of how it used to look on ChurchCrawler.
I didn't even think I'd manage to get out today, such was the weather forecast. As it turned out, it's been quite a nice day, and I managed to nip up to Clifton Village to pop to the Post Office. As with my last outing, I decided after snapping one shop-front on Regent Street that I might as well snap the whole row, and muse on a few of them, the only service I really offer over and above Google Street View for a lot of my pictures 😀
The gentleman kicking the recycling bag is not in the queue for Foliage; he's one of the proprietors of Clifton Hardware, next door.
Foliage was Wainwright's Coffee for a while before it changed hands; I think the current people are doing a much better job of giving the place a distinctive feel and attracting people in. Before that it was a boutique called Grace and Mabel.
One of those places where if you go in and ask for some fly spray, a socket set and some tachyon conduit for a Type 40 TARDIS they'll just start rummaging in the back room and ask you whether you want the socket set in metric or Imperial.
I think this replaced Pizza Provençal; they've got a much bigger branch on Whiteladies Road, which is the only one I've been to.
Just a quick trip up to Clifton Village to enjoy a bit of sunshine and grab a coffee. No new roads, and only two pictures, but I did at least snap a plaque I'd missed related to some recent reading, and enjoy a quirky Clifton Village house.
I love this quirky little quarter-cylinder of house, with what looks like a sliver of wedge-shaped top floor behind it and the little below-pavement cellar space behind. I have no idea if the big black door on the right is also related to it, though on reflection it's probably more likely to lead to the under-stairs basement of 1 Royal York Crescent, up and to the right.
It and number two are clearly converted shops or pubs—number three remains The Portcullis pub, of course, and they all get a listing together. "Early C19. Render with limestone ashlar, party wall stacks and pantile hipped roof..."
Another dash to Greville Smyth Park for a coffee from Rich at Hopper, but at least this time I managed to divert a bit and knock off a small section of Cumberland Road I'd managed to miss on previous excursions. Along the way I muse on a strange residence in between a warehouse and a tannery, and wonder if the Mayor might be deliberately letting the Cumberland Road Flyover area go to seed...
This is the bit of Coronation Road I came to wander down specifically, one of the little bits of road I'd missed on previous walks. It features the same nice Victorian terraces as much of the rest of Bedminster, including individual house names. I imagine the constant traffic reduces the appeal of this stretch, though.
I managed to knock off a reasonable chunk of the roads I had left to walk around the University at the north-eastern extremity of my mile on this nice sunny walk. As well as being impressed by the number of big townhouses now occupied by various departments, I took some time on my way there to check out a war memorial, and some time on the way back to do a little extra wandering of Berkeley Square.
This used to be a big hotel, starting off as a single villa and gradually expanding to a 250-bedroom giant by the 1950s. Currently it's student accommodation. It was run by John Dingle, an English chef who dreamed of being as well-regarded as his French counterparts.
The University is planning on knocking it down and putting up a very modern-looking library. I rather like it.