I bought a vintage post card from eBay this week. It's a well-known photo of the Hotwells landing stage, showing what's likely to be a P&A Campbell paddle steamer moored there. (Just yesterday I snapped a photo of their buoy on display at Underfall Yard with its information sign.) It was posted from here to Canada in 1936, and has now returned via a presumably quite circuitous route.
Local journalist Maurice Fells (really local—I could probably hit his house with a well-flung teacake from here) notes in The A-Z of Curious Bristol (£) that:
For tens of thousands of people, the pier at Hotwells was the starting point of their day trip as they boarded steamers with names like Glen Avon, Glen Usk and Britannia. The salty tang of the sea was never far away as the steamers headed for Ilfracombe, Weston-super-Mare, Clevedon and Portishead on the Devon and Somerset coast and Barry, Porthcawl and Tenby in South Wales.
The landing stage is long-abandoned. A variety of economic issues, including fuel prices, the increasing prevalence of the motor car, the construction of the Severn Crossing giving easier access to Wales, and the collapse of Clevedon Pier during safety testing in 1970, which prevented larger pleasure boats from stopping at the resort, all led to dwindling trade.
I went to have a poke about there today, not staying for long as it's a cold day and the wind was biting. I couldn't reproduce the postcard's view—you'd need to risk life, limb and presumably a trespass prosecution—but I did try to judge the rough viewpoint and angle of the photo by lining up with Rock House, the Colonnade and the Suspension Bridge and snapped a photo looking back to where the original photographer would have stood on the pontoon.
This Bristol City Docks history page has many good photos of the landing stage and the nearby Port and Pier Railway line (whose tunnel I was in the other day) and the Hotwells Halt railway station, which was just the other side of the suspension bridge from here.
Not sure what the gap was for, or what the metal bridge-like-thingy that's gently rusting into the water was for, either.
On closer inspection, this looks similar, but not the same as the lamp posts in the picture.
I think this roughly lines up with the viewpoint in the picture. You can just see the suspension bridge stanchion in about the right place behind the tree above the Colonnade.
28 Jan 2021
With very little photography, and no new streets. Still, I did manage to buy milk at the "Simple Cow" vending machine—and "simple" is very definitely false advertising; it took me bloody ages to work out how to use the thing—and snap the new ACER/SEPR piece down in Cumberland Piazza.
This was just a little car park, presumably for the house behind? Probably going to be turned into half a dozed bijou flats, or something...
It was not simple. But now I have some clue what I'm doing I might manage it better next time.
31 Jan 2021
I just nipped out to post a blood test (not Covid-related) and check that my car was okay, because I've not driven it for weeks. I was just going to walk up to Clifton Village, but I spotted the opportunity to re-park the car on my street rather than up the hill around the corner where it was, so instead I got in, intending just to move a hundred metres, but it turned over slowly before it started, and then warned me that the battery was very low and I should go for a long drive to recharge it.
So, I did my best, zipping up the A4018 to the motorway junction and back again, dropping off my blood at a postbox along the way, and while I did that, it started snowing. I noticed it was low tide, too, so when I got back home I headed back out again, this time on foot and with a camera so I could see if I could find any evidence of the Hot Well steaming.
I saw not a single sign of the Hot Well steaming, but it was quite a nice quick outing and I enjoyed my brief walk in the snow. Iike Hinton Lane, too, and while it's all old ground I was re-treading, I did at least get a picture or two with a bit of snow and some of the cold winter atmosphere of the trip, I think.
Went down to see if I could see it steaming. No dice. I really want to clear the spring of all that junk every time I see it, but I have no means to do it, let alone the knowledge and wisdom to know if it might do more harm than good...
24 Jan 2021
I started this wander with my "support bubble" Sarah and Vik, after Sarah texted me to say "SNOW!" We parted ways on the towpath and I headed up into the bit of Leigh Woods that's not actually the woods—the village-like part in between Leigh Woods and Ashton Court, where I'd noticed on a map a church I'd not seen before. I found St Mary the Virgin and quite a few other things I'd never experienced, despite having walked nearby them many, many times over many years, including a castellated Victorian water tower that's been turned into a house...
21 Jan 2021
A quick jaunt to Clifton Village to grab a birthday coffee and cake (courgette, lime & pistachio, thanks for asking) from Twelve, and rubberneck at the demolition of the block that used to house the WH Smith, among other things. I remember the Havana Cafe, Mail Boxes Etc (for those who wanted a Clifton postcode without living there?) and others.
I wonder if the bit about it being closed for one day a year is a non-sequitur, or whether there's actually some legal requirement to close the garden every now and again to maintain its private status.
Tearing down the old eyesore that used to be a collection of random offices, a cafe, and WH Smith.
16 Jan 2021
A raggedy wander with my friend Lisa, picking up a few stray streets and venturing only briefly onto Whiteladies Road, where it was too damn busy, given the current pandemic. We retreated fairly quickly. Found a couple of interesting back alleys, and got a very pointed "can I help you?" from a man who was working in his garage in one of the rather run-down garage areas behind some posh houses, and clearly didn't want us just wandering around there.
I'm absolutely fascinated by this sinkhole in the Canynge Square garden. I'm not sure why. But every time I'm there there's normally another rubbernecker or three, so perhaps I can take solace in that.
Here's an interesting sinkhole-related snippet:
"In September 2007, Peter Insole of Bristol City Council visited no.52 Clifton Park Road, Clifton to investigate the report of a mine shaft in the rear garden that had been exposed during gardening work. In the southwestern corner of the garden a rough rock cut shaft approximately 1m in diameter was observed. It was not possible to fully survey the feature for health and safety reasons, but it appeared to be excavated through sandstone or Dolomitic Conglomerate and was at least 2m deep. The shaft opened out into tunnels or chambers beneath the rear gardens of the Canynge Square properties. It is possible that this feature was associated with a previously observed cellar or chamber beneath the rear garden of 22 Canynge Square, although there are no known cartographic or documentary records for mining activity in the area."
16 Apr 2021
Another day, another quick dash out for a coffee. I did at least try to take a different route from normal, especially on the way back, where I yet again got a bit lost in the strange paths, flyovers and underpasses that make up the odd maze of pedestrian "infrastructure" among the concrete jungle between the west of Greville Smyth and my neck of the woods in Hotwells. I swear one day I'll take a turn I've not tried before and end up being gored by a Bristolian minotaur.
From up here it's easier to see the curving path that the end of Brunel's swing bridge would make along its little steel track, until it hit the wooden buffer on the left-hand side, with the other end pivoting out over Howard's Lock. You can see the turtable it balances on just underneath the temporary roof there.
I decided to make my way across the water to Greville Smyth Park via a more cicuitous route than normal.
Some of the Cumberland Basin Flyover System's pedestrian pathways really do feel like you're making your way through a post-apocalyptic computer game.
I'd heard there was going to be something of a wild party in Greville Smyth to mark the end of lockdown. It seems it may be the start of a regular thing, with a dance festival bringing 8,000 people to the park. I imagine I'll be able to hear it from my place, and therefore safely avoid it.
Even on a quieter day, the roar of the traffic is pretty amazing. I was listening to a podcast about electric cars on noise-cancelling headphones, while wishing there were already a few more on the roads...
I think I should have gone back down into the park to come back up my normal path, that leads to a place where you can walk under the flyover and get back on the bridge to Hotwells. As it is I just tried heading north and ended up having to cross four lanes of busy traffic.
That seems to be the failure of the pedestrian paths around here: if you know where you're going really well, the best you can hope for is not to make a wrong turn, and then you can end up going all the way around the houses, including quite often back the way you came, and might manage to use some of the provided underpasses and crossings and avoid the most dangerous traffic. But if you don't know them like the back of your hand and just try heading for the place you want to get to, that you can actually see, you'll be led entirely astray and end up in a variety of dead-ends.
15 Apr 2021
Just a quick trip to Imagine That for a flat white and a date ball (they're really nice), snapping the general sights along the way. No new roads, as has rapidly become the default on my lunchtime wanders, but as I'm in the routine of this project it almost seems strange not to pop my wanders up on the site.
...swan of those things.
I bought some duck food from Amazon a while back and now carry around a zip-lock bag of the stuff on my more waterside wanders.
Apparenlty it's owned by the same man who owns the Mustang I've snapped here before. I was told this by a lady who I imagine was his long-suffering wife. "At least it started this morning. He spends all his money on these, you know; none on the house..."
I've not had one yet this year. It's still a bit chilly for me to indulge in iced drinks.
14 Apr 2021
Apart from a lovely coffee and a slice of Victoria sponge from Twelve, there weren't any new sights on this little lunchtime jaunt except for a slightly better look at the long raised extension at the back of the St Vincent's Rocks Hotel, where I at least got to see the arches it's raised up on. I also got a fair bit of exercise by walking up the Zig Zag to get there, and saw far more people out than I have in months, what with the lockdown having just been significantly lifted. As I walked past The Mall pub they were turning people away from their already-full garden, and the (outdoor) cafe tables were pretty full up.
I'll know I'm fit—if it ever happens—when I can get up the Zig Zag without having to stop for a breather. In my defence, it is built up the side of a literal cliff.
I only found out that this was a raised extension when I read the listing after snapping the last photo. Today I ventured as close as I could and got to glimpse a bit of the rather nice support arches.
I'm guessing there used to be a grand front door, but then later the hotel annexed the building and didn't need it any more? But it's only surmise.
These aren't listed per se, but they're on the "local list" and named as 8-14 St Vincents Rocks, so I think that confirms that it used to be part of the hotel.
Maybe I'm starting a knocker fixation after last weekend's walk. Interesting that it's mounted on a Maltese cross. I wonder if it was a holiday souvenir?
Surely if you want to mark the passing of the Royal Consort you'd move your dangling flag to the lower window...
11 Apr 2021
My friend Lisa joined me again, this time for a long wander through "Bemmie". In fact, I tweeted recently using "Bedmo" as my abbreviation for Bedminster, and apparently there's something of a culture war going on. From what I can glean, the longer-term residents call it "Bemmie" and consider "Bedmo" a name made up by hipster gentrifiers.
I had no idea, but then I didn't grow up around here, and I don't live in Bedminster, and I'm not a hipster. I'm not sure I've ever gentrified anywhere, either; Hotwells was already quite gentrified by the time I arrived. I probably just lowered the tone a bit.
Anyway. Lisa and I entered Bemmie by the traditional toll gate (though actually you'd only have paid if you were coming from the Long Ashton direction, not merely nipping across from Hotwells) and then almost literally combed the streets to knock several new roads off my list of targets. Along the way we saw lots of street art, as you'd expect, and admired the area's panoply of gorgeous knockers.
The reason Ashton Gate is called Ashon Gate is because it's the site of the former turnpike gate between Bristol and Ashton (now known as Long Ashton.) This is the actual toll house, still standing. "The Toll House closed in 1866 and was incorporated c1980 with Toll House Court", says the listing.
Toll House Court is now used by Second Step, a mental health charity, as part of their High Support Accommodation programme to combat homelessness.
The new development on the site of the old brewery (which I visited once for a behind-the-scenes peek with some food- and beer-blogger friends) isn't going down that well with the neighbours.
A piece by Dale Grimshaw. There's a great little piece on this here at Diff Graff, including some details of the migrating swarm of bees that interrupted the painting...
Work continues on the Six Sisters project, the "UK's largest female-led street art project".
I love the Masonic's typography. Not been in myself, that I recall. I have the impression that it's more for locals than for visitors; more of a Merchants Arms than a Grain Barge, in Hotwells terms. The far side of the pub used to be a popular wall for street art until the new flats were built there. I remember one of Dan Kitchener's pieces most fondly.