This may be the very first time I've gone for a One Mile Matt wander and not actually gone down any new roads, trod any new steps. I just wanted a coffee, frankly, so I went the same old way to Imagine That in the marina and back again.
An office for one of the industrial places along Coronation Road; I think this is the back of the metal spraying yard rather than the tannery.
I love the isolation of Cliftonwood -- the geography of it, with its solid boundary of Clifton Vale to the west and Jacob's Wells Road to the east mean that you tend not to be in Cliftonwood unless you've got a reason to be there. It's not a cut-through to anywhere, at least not from side-to-side, and you can only really exit to the south on foot.
I sense that I'd be happy living in Cliftonwood -- like my bit of Hotwells, it's a quiet little area with a sort of quirky feel to it. Plus it contributes the colourful houses that are the backdrop of about half of all Bristol postcards ever made :)
I found the "secret" garden especially interesting, just for the fact that it really does feel quite secret, despite the obvious name on the gate. I've lived a half-mile from it for twenty years and I don't think I've ever noticed it before, despite exploring the area a few times.
I did once have a beer in the garden when it was The Spring Gardens. It became La Demi Lune for a while, from what I remember, then shut down. Having just Googled it, before it was the Spring Gardens apparently it was "Durty Nelly's"!
From what I can see on Street View it's just flats now, but I can't be sure without going and having a proper look around the front. Maybe next time...
I tried to find the Strangers' Burial Ground the last time was up in Clifton, but I'd not realised that Lower Clifton Hill continues further on after the turning with Constitution Hill. Sadly it was chained shut, but it still looks beautifully-maintained, perhaps by the same man referenced by this story from John Hodgson, which helped me find it. Apparently Thomas Beddoes is buried here.
I take a snap of the Clifton Club virtually every time I pass. Perhaps it's having read too much Jeeves & Wooster; I fancy belonging to a private members' club. But then, on reflection, I'm perhaps with Groucho Marx on that one.
I think there's a way through there up to Meridian Place in Clifton Village. I'll try to find it at some point in the future.
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.
A "bright and airy self contained single storey Freehold studio / workshop (277 Sq Ft)". The floorplan shows that it's basically just a single room with tiny room with a loo and a sink inset, and nothing else. I suppose an enterprising hairdresser or nail technician might be able to make something of it.
I wasn't really feeling it when I set out today, on my first car-assisted wander. By the time I'd parked on Alma Vale Road in Clifton it was just starting to rain and I picked my way about in quite a desultory way. It felt strange, as I was very familiar with the area because I'd walked through it hundreds of times when I worked at the top of Whiteladies Road, and used to walk up the hill from Hotwells and through Clifton to get there, and back again, every day.
Then a complete coincidence seemed to make the change I'd been hoping for. I was standing taking a photo of Christ in the front garden of All Saints church when a couple of people walked out of the front door. I got talking with a lady I took to be part of the ministerial team, who invited me to come in and look around—something I'd always wanted to do on the morning commute. (I think we connected a bit when I recognised the name John Piper, who did the amazing windows—I learned about him while I was at Warwick, through his connections to Coventry Cathedral.
I left with much more of a spring in my step, wandered around the area a bit more, finally working out that the tennis courts I used to pass every morning are those of Clifton Lawn Tennis Club, and finally grabbing an excellent Hungarian sausage hot dog from the Budapest Cafe. I feel a lot better now than I did before I went out.
I realised that if Hopper Coffee in Greville Smyth Park was in reach during my lunch hour, then perhaps Mark's Bread at the end of North Street would be do-able, too. And I was right. I also managed to cross Clift Road, with its pretty gable bargeboards, off my list, and encounter a dapper gent walking his dogs while playing loud jazz music from somewhere under his jacket. That's North Street for you.
There was some kind of portable music unit under his coat, producing trad jazz at a surprisingly good quality and volume level. It may have been Beiderbecke, but I'm not that conversant with the genre.
I had a chance to dash down a few new roads during my lunchtime jaunt today. My favourite feature was 7 Wetherell Place, at the corner of Frederick Place, one street behind the University of Bristol Students' Union building. Apparently I'm a sucker for gothic revival, which seems appropriate for this little project, which is reviving my interest in the local area.
The listing starts "1860. By JA Hansom. For himself".
I didn't have any time to find a new place to go today, so I'm treading old ground here. I did buy a tub of duck food from Amazon last week and today I remembered to take a little bagful of it with me on my trip to Imagine That coffee, and spent a few minutes feeding the marina slipway ducks on the way back. This is a Bristol tradition I've seen other people doing many times, but never tried myself. It was quite genteel until the seagulls cottoned on, then it became something of a brawl.
"A dramatic modern space behind a conventional facade; The Underfall Yard electricity substation on Avon Crescent was begun in 1905. It was probably the first reinforced concrete building in the city, and one of the earliest in the UK." — via KYPBristol
A walk with Sarah focusing on Ashton and the surrounds, taken on a day with really nice light around sunset. Just what I needed.
Fury as huge phone mast is erected without planning permission just a few feet from residents' homes, according to the Evening Post.
A long walk around Cliftonwood and Clifton with my friend Lisa, taking in some of the 12 Days of Christmas display at Queens Parade, picking up a take-away coffee from Pinkmans of Park Street, and poking our heads up against the glass of SS Peter and Paul Catholic Cathedral.
I wish I'd nailed this shot, but it drifted out of my reach a bit too quickly.
"She said the man in the gabardine coat was a spy..."
What a vista of urban delight. On the plus side, a sign on one of the bins reminded us that Pinkmans was just aroudn the corner.
Apparently the tympanum depicts Saint Peter, teaching. You'd have thought they might've gone for Saint Paul...