Tagged: neighbourhood
I managed to go for a wander a while ago that was meant to finish off a little tangle of paths in Leigh Woods, or at the very least finish off my wandering of the Purple Path there. And I managed to miss doing either of those things through some kind of navigational incompetence.
Today I woke up with a bit of a headache, feeling a bit knackered as soon as I dragged myself out of bed, but at least with the energy to realise that I'd be better off (a) going for a walk in what looked likely to be the last of the Jubilee weekend sunshine than (b) moping around the flat until it started raining, at which point I could mope more thoroughly.
I had a look at my map, considered going to Ashton Court, but remembered that there was a music festival there today, and instead found these little leftovers of Leigh Woods and decided to have one more try at walking them.
The Mall was pleasantly decked out with bunting and there was live music, but sadly I got there just as the skiffle band were finishing the last song of their set. Plus I was knackered by this stage—in the end my walk lasted three hours, and I'd walked 10k by the time I got here—so I decided just to get a quick take-away from Coffee #1 (awful Coronation Chicken sandwich, sadly, will probably never try food there again) and head home, so this is my last snap of the wander.
(I timed it well, as the rain started not long after, and right now at half past five in the afternoon while I'm editing these photos it's coming down a storm. A very typical Bank Holiday in England!)
Another day not dissimilar to my last wander: I'm feeling a bit tired and rather than just moping around the house I thought I'd find some tiny bit of somewhere that I'd not yet walked and get outdoors. This time I headed for the Tobacco Factory Market in Bedminster, as I often do, but went the long way around via Ashton Court Mansion as I knew there were some footpaths and a small section of road I'd not ticked off up there. Finishing all the Ashton Court footpaths will be quite a long job, but you've got to start somewhere...
I did feel rather better by the time I got home, and, pretty much astoundingly given the weather forecast, managed to avoid the rain completely.
Fairly typical Bristol scene here, as the traffic is held up for a bridge swing caused by a replica of a 15th century caravel.
I'd normally walk over those open lock gates she's just sailed through, but it's easy enough to walk down to the gates at the river end.
Pre-Upfest, as recently as April, Pikto's boy with the catapult still adorned the side of the Coopers Arms.
Not quite sure what to make of the replacement. It's much lower-contrast and less eye-catching, for me. Also, I'm so out of touch I have no idea if that's an original character or some famous pop-cuture reference.
Ahh, according to Natural Adventures it's "what looks like a Vaughn Bode Lizard, an Iconic character in the world of street art", and it's by an artist called Derm. I'd never heard of Vaughn Bodē or his Cheech Wizard and lizard apprentice, so it's not surprising this piece is going over my head. Probably more one for the real aficionados to appreciate.
I've been pretty awful at reading so far this year, apparently averaging about one book per month. That's a far cry from 2019, say, where I got through 41 books in the year. Today's wander was prompted by my rubbish reading, as I needed to go hand back some books to the library, because I'd managed to renew them so many times that I hit the limit on renewals. Oops. Several of them were still unread.
So, off to the Central Library for me, tail between my legs. On the way there I did my best to recreate a historical photo of Dowry Square; while I was in the area I walked under the adjacent Norman arch and poked around behind the Cathedral, and I also had a little diversion to the city centre and came back along the south side of the river, hitting some trouble with the lock gates as I finally crossed the harbour back towards home.
I don't know anything about this photo, really; I saw it pop up on eBay in one of my automated searches for "Hotwells" and this nice, open view of Dowry Square, which is a lot more overgrown these days, made me click that "buy" button. This is a print from a negative in a private collection but more that that I can't really tell you. The "Hepworth" could be Watler Hepworth, as it seems there was a Bristol photographer of that name in about the right period, which I"m guessing to be sometime between the First and Second World Wars. The tram rails and electrical lines are still in place, as you can see.
One nice detail is the Bass signs in the windows of what was clearly still back then the York Hotel on the corner of the square. There's some pictures of what I've been assuming is the main bar entrance that faces onto the main road and remains quite well-preserved in a moment...
Nowadays known as York House, and apparently offices, this was originally built by George Tully, like a lot of the rest of the square.
According to this Heritage Statement about No. 10 by Mark Hines Architects he started building in 1723, imagining accommodation houses for Hotwells visitors, but later built this large hotel and other buildings like the Clifton Dispensary at No 12 as the spa became more popular and the square evolved into a centre of medicine. I'm a little confused by that claim as the York Hotel went up c. 1780, according to the listing, when Tully had been dead for ten years, but perhaps it means he planned it before he died.
And now we've teleported down the Hotwell Road to College Green, where I found that the library wasn't open yet (I'd forgotten they didn't open until 1pm on a Sunday) so carried on past it and turned through an old Norman archway.
This was a section I wanted to walk, as although I have actually wandered through the arch and pottered around this bit of Bristol before, I think that was one of the days my GPS battery died halfway through a walk, so I never posted any records of it. Here I can redress the issue. We've seen the other side of this grand bit of architecture before, and the next photo has the information plaque which will tell you more about it more concisely than I could.
One fact that isn't on the plaque is that Catherine Hughes, the local artist who made the pomegranates for the front of the Cabot Cafe, had her studio in one of the upper rooms for a time. I presume this was wangled by her father, a local estate agent who was heavily involved in the whole College Green area. From the Clifton and Redland Free Press, 18 April 1900:
Comparatively few people are aware that the interesting structure known as the Abbey Gate House, College Green, the fifteenth century building above the fine old Norman archway, is now given over to the fine arts. It is the studio of Miss Catherine Hughes, and a private view of a charming exhibition of water colour drawings, by that young lady and Miss Ludlow, both local limners, was held last week, when a large number of ladies and gentlemen accepted the invitation to inspect the works, among the company being some local artists. Miss Hughes and Miss Ludlow studied under Ludovici in London, and are now following their profession in Bristol
Okay, so given that the library won't be open until 1pm I need to kill some time. I decided to have a mooch around the "old city" area.
Here I noticed a newish specialist darts club, apparently. Can't for the life of me remember what was at 41 Corn Street before this appeared.
My boss plays darts, but given how accident-prone she is it would take some convincing for me to enter a room where she was both drinking and in charge of throwable pointy objects.
The Mother's Ruin and Seamus O'Donnell's, just to the left here, are both good pubs. Sandwiched in between them at the moment is Shall Not Fade, who sell plants, vinyl records and clothes. The also, apparently, run a record label and a festival. I was tempted by a calathea, but I didn't want to be carrying it around for the next couple of hours. I'll have to come back another day.
I'm in the habit of going over to the Tobacco Factory Market on a Sunday. I think I've walked all the routes around that way, but as a Plimsoll Bridge swing let me cross the road to the far side of Brunel Way on my return journey and I took a couple of photos of the brownfield development at the old Ashton Gate Depot site I thought I'd call it a Wander and pop some photos up.
The street art is still looking good, but one of these properties has been turned into such low-end multiple-occupancy accommodation that it got into the Bristol Post this week with pictures of one tiny room with a shower alongside the bed serving as the sole room per person, with a toilet shared between four "studio rooms". I suppose this is actually better than the student accommodation I had in my first year at Warwick, but at least that was actually on campus...
Well, technically that's Freeland Place, I suppose, but I was standing on Granby Hill to take the photo. I wonder how many photos of this fab house with its wrapping of Boston ivy I've taken over the years? I find it hard to resist on a nice clear day, especially if there aren't any cars parked on the hill and the ivy is in full effect.
It's been a long while since I did one of these walks.
I'm thinking of finishing up the project by walking one or two last bits of road, thus being able to declare with all honesty that I've done my best to walk every public road within my mile (and quite a few alleyways besides.) As a prelude, and just because I felt like it, I decided to drag out the camera and GPS on this little wander to the local shops.
I was concerned about the state of Rock House, or at least its southern half, the last time I took a closer look at it while passing. Happily it seems to have been bought by someone prepared to fix up that drooping balcony. Here's hoping these repairs continue and my next photo of the place shows both sides of this old house (dated back to at least 1731 by a William Halfpenny engraving, no matter what the Listing says.)
Just behind Rock House you can see a bit of the Colonnade, sawn off at the end to make room for the widened Hotwell Road, I believe. Back in the day, according to 1925's The Bristol guide; being a complete ancient and modern history of the city of Bristol, the Hotwells and Clifton:
For those who prefer exercise to silting, there is the Colonade with shops, built beneath the rocks, and a parade about
800 feet long, shaded with trees, by the side of the river, so that the company may enjoy a dry and pleasant walk when it rains, or an airy, cool, and shady walk in the warmest season: also during the influx and efflux of the river, they may be entertained with the sight of the Merchant's ships, Steam packets, and Coasting vessels that generally pass up or down.
An enormous walk today, or at least it felt enormous. My feet are sore, anyway. I started off recreating a couple of local historical photos in Hotwells, but then headed for my traditional walk along the towpath in the Avon Gorge to the far extreme of Leigh Woods, up and through the woods to the height of the Suspension Bridge, finally crossing into Clifton Village for a well-deserved vanilla latte.
I say "traditional" because this used to be a very regular route for me, first walking, years and years ago, and later jogging—this route combined with a circuit of the Downs on the other side used to be my way of making sure I was fit to do a half-marathon (I did six of them in total, between 2010 and 2014).
I miss the routine of this walk, even though it's a long way and it used to pretty much wipe me out when I did it—I'd come back home and collapse and do very little for the rest of the day. But perhaps that's what Sundays are for, and I should try to remember that.
Doing this walk regularly was quite a meditative experience. Not so much of that today, but once I got to the further extreme of the towpath, where the roar of the Portway traffic on the other side of the river dwindles and I turned into Leigh Woods to climb ever closer to birdsong and further from rushing cars, I did seem to recapture a little of the feeling of previous walks. (I would say my mind cleared, but I was mentally singing along to Life Without Buildings' The Leanover for most of the wander. There are worse songs to have stuck in one's head, though; it's a great track...)
Anyway. Apparently the walk made me more likely to ramble in words, too. I'll stop now :)
Sadly closed for lockdown at the moment, of course. Hopefully they'll weather the storm, because it's a great little pub and it's been there since at least 1847.
