Tagged: plant
Leigh Woods Purple Path
12 Mar 2022
There's a few tracks in Leigh Woods that lie within my mile and show up on my map but that I've not walked yet, so I decided to take one of my traditional big long walks through the woods on this nice crisp sunny morning.
For years—decades, even—I've been doing a similar route from my place, along the towpath to the far woods entrance, up the hill for a varied walk on one of the marked tracks and then across the Suspension Bridge to Clifton Village for a coffee-based reward. It's my default "long walk", really, and I almost always enjoy it. Today, at last, spring actually seemed to be springing, which made for some extra positivity...
There have been new plans put forward by the council for the Western Harbour Development The previous plans would have put a bridge in between here and the suspension bridge. I've not looked at the new ones yet.
I'm sure both the entire flyover system and its monument bench looked splendid when they were first put up, in 1965.
Here you can hear a live performance of the song Virtute et Industrial by Adge Cutler and the Wurzels that includes a brief reference to the then-newly-completed flyover system:
Hast seen our brand new bridge, up there in Cumberland Basin?
The cars go by like thunder, and up and round and under
Where they goes, nobody knows, tain't no bleedin' wonder!
I've always enjoyed the optical illusion that these houses are on stilts from this angle. In fact there's the Hotwell Road the National Express coach is on in between the houses at the back and the disused landing stage at the front, as you'll see in the next pic of the adjacent terrace.
The Campbell Brothers' White Funnel Fleet operated from the Hotwells landing stage up until relatively recently. Last week I bought an old timetable on eBay and popped it up on my blog for anyone who might be interested.
In 1965, the year of the timetable, there were regular sailings from here along the coast or over to Wales. You could go to Ilfracombe and Lundy Island, or head across to Barry, Penarth or Cardiff. All from within five minutes' walk of my front door.
The towpath is a lovely stroll in weather like this. Waterproof walking shoes help, though, as the puddles are often wide enough to span the entire width. I baptised my new walking shoes on this trip.
This is probably the most popular spot to take photos of the bridge from this direction. I'd guess the large majority of photos of the Suspension Bridge are taken from the other side.
I mostly went out to hang out with my friends Sarah and Vik in Bedminster, but along the way I thought I'd take a closer look at something a little nearer home: the last crossing point of the Rownham Ferry.
You don't often see Entrance Lock cycle at this kind of tide, but a little boat like that doesn't need a lot of water in the river to manoeuvre.
Yes, okay, it's quite the challenge to spot the hand-made historic artifact in this picture. In the next pic I'll zoom in a bit.
There, hopefully you can see it now—the slipway of the last incarnation of the Rownham Ferry, in use from as early as the 12th century to 1932, when this particular slipway was last used.
There's not much to see at the moment, as the tide's a bit too high. I'm going to head over to the Tobacco Factory Market, meet some friends, do a crossword or two, and head back at lower tide.
Again, the slipway is easy to miss. I like these little barely-visible curiosities that hide such heritage. The site of the crossing moved around—it's fairly obvious it wasn't right here in the 12th century, for example, because the river was only diverted into the New Cut, which the ferry crosses here, in the early 1800s. Earlier it was further downstream.
The Tobacco Factory, Bedminster's will-known theatre and bar, bought a farm in 2018 and now has a farm shop attached. always trying to be innovative, bought a farm in 2018 and now has a farm shop attached. I sometimes pop in on a Sunday, though it's the Sunday market that pops up in the back yard that actually lures me over there.
If you were following this route you'll have noticed I just magically took a shortcut through a bunch of houses. That's because I've elided the bit of the route that goes to Sarah and Vik's place and stays there for an hour or two.
Thought I'd grab a close-up of one of the Six Sisters. This one's Oodles of Poodles by "Lucas Antics", aka Alex Lucas & Paul Fearnside, apparently.
Getting back to the Rownham Ferry, the Ashton Avenue Bridge is one of the reasons it was closed. On the excellent Bristol City Docks website you can find a photo called "Rownham Ferry c1906 with Ashton Avenue Bridge nearly built.".
As you'll see in that photo, at low tide the Rownham Ferry was basically just a bridge made out of boats, so it probably still seemed a quick shortcut compared to walking all the way to Ashton Avenue Bridge. I imagine the foot traffic gradually migrated to the new bridge as the ferry was a more daunting prospect at high tide, from what I can gather. Also, the combined road/rail bridge would have allowed people to get the train across the river, rather than stopping at Clifton Bridge Station and using the ferry, I think.
Now the tide's lower, we can see the end of the slipway we looked at earlier poking out from the Somerset side. According this article from the Bristol & Avon
Family History Society:
In 1793 the ferry was identified as being used by many passengers to "cross the river at Rownham ferry and walk to the sweet and wholesome village of Ashton to eat strawberries and cream"
A Coffee and a Curve
27 Mar 2022
I wanted to have a wander along to the Tobacco Factory Market for some shopping, and checking the map for any leftover nearby streets I noticed a tiny curve of road on the way into the modern flats at Paxton Drive that it didn't look like I'd walked down before. I wouldn't take me too far out of my way, so I decided to head there first and then across to North Street to get my groceries and a coffee...
Here we are at the tiny loop of road that looked like it hadn't been walked. It has very little to recommend itself in any other capacity.
Paxton Drive always reminds me of Blake's 7, but in fact in the episode Stardrive it's actually Doctor Plaxton's drive that's the MacGuffin.
Well, I hope he's bringing the sign he nicked from this end of Paxton Drive with him.
It looks on the map like there are little side streets off Paxton Drive. There really aren't, just these little car parking areas. Hence I didn't walk down any of them.
It's better than no daffodils, but they're still rather swamped by the rather industrial setting.
Which then becomes North Street, my destination. I need a coffee and some lunch and some veg.
I noticed I had a few things on my "potential wanders" list that could all be done relatively close to home, and in a fairly straight line, so I set off at lunchtime to recreate a photo of a now-defunct pub, wander behind a Spar (which turned out to be more interesting than I'd expected, but I admit it's a low bar) and spend some time browsing in Dreadnought Books before coming home via a coffee from Spoke & Stringer, a little diversion up Gasworks Lane and a tiny bit of the Rownham Mead estate I'd somehow previously skipped.
Here's the Spring Garden(s)/Durty Nelly's/La Demi Lune as it looks today. Rather dull modern accommodation, sadly. I understand they may have extended the building back into the garden to make it roomy enough to be flats.
I can only guess that the Raj Bari restaurant has been trying to grow their own herbs and spices. Doesn't look that successful at the moment, to be honest, but maybe I'm looking at things that aren't in season...
Remnants of the docks railway. These ran around the harbour to Ashton Avenue Bridge to the west, and along to the main Goods Depot at Anchor Lane to the east.
I think this may be the last visible remnant of the harbour railway on this entire stretch of the Hotwell Road. There may still be some tracks around Canons March—that whole area south of Anchor Road had a lot of rail lines—but I've not seen any others west of Jacobs Wells Road.
Here's the entrance to Pembroke Place on the Hotwell Road. Looking at old maps, before it was Pembroke Place it was Blackhorse Lane.
And here's the detail of Gasworks Lane I find interesting.
Part of my preferred walk to work is over the cobbles below Redcliffe Parade. It's not one of my favourite bits, because the going is treacherous and you have to look down at your feet all the time to make sure you don't come a cropper on the old and very uneven cobbles.
Here in Gasworks Lane things are different. Apparently the council used an interesting new technique that, according to Bristol247, they've experimented with in a few places across town.
The idea is to keep the classic look of the cobblestones but smooth out the ride for pedestrians and cyclists by taking the existing stones, cutting them in half to give a nice flat edge, then re-laying them lumpy-side down.
I'd not noticed it until I read the article, but I appreciate this technique now, and it'll be interesting to see how much more it gets used around the city.
On my way home I popped through Rownham Mead estate and snapped a few things, starting with this house number that I've always enjoyed. This used to be my regular cut-through to the commuter ferry service back when I used to get the boat to work, so I'm very familiar with this little area.
As usual, the somewhat bland housing estate is elevating itself by means of the horticulture—I really do like the job their landscapers do in general, but most of the houses also seem to take a lot of pride in the individual gardens, too.
See what I mean? Without the trees and shrubs this would be a very dull little red-brick estate, but everywhere you look there are lovely little touches like these trees.
And again—imagine it without all the rampant shrubbery and tree blossom. Great job, landscapers.
And we'll end on a high note, as Holy Trinity's belfry was looking particularly eye-catching today. The clock's right, too, which is rare in a public clock these days. The bell is back to ringing during the daytime at the moment. It was turned off temporarily during the pandemic as some locals were complaining of losing sleep to it, as it used to ring all night, but the church did some work after running a small campaign for donations to make the timing mechanism more flexible, and now it rings on the hour during the day but is silent during the small hours, at least. It sometimes reminds me that it's time for me to jump on a Teams call when I'm working from home. I find its regular bonging a reassuring Hotwells presence.
Easter Monday Gardens and Flowers
18 Apr 2022
I didn't really set out with a theme of flowers and gardens in mind for this walk. I just fancied heading up to Clifton Village to get lunch. As it turned out, though, Spring was springing, so a minor theme emerged as I started off with the graveyard flowers of Hope Chapel and wandered up to see the beginnings of the new wildflower garden at Clifton Hill Meadow.
There will be a minor theme of flowers and gardens for this little trip. We'll start at Hope Chapel, though this is more a graveyard than a garden.
A lovely garden. Sadly a little lacking in facilities at the moment, after some scrote (or presumably a team thereof) had it away with their cast iron table and chair set at the end of March. This is why we can't have nice things, etc. etc.
Where fly tipping happens, more like. This scrap of land (with a public bench hidden on the far end, against the back fence behind the red bins) has been a bit of an eyesore for years. I've never been a fan of public billboards.
Recently, though, a property developer has applied for planning permission for a block of flats here, and apparently fenced off the bit where the main entrance will be, even though it's fenced in this little corner of land that everyone assumed was public, council bench and all. And now it's attracted fly tippers, it seems.
I've tweeted at the councillor for the area, Alex Hartley, and he's said he's alerted the council and will try to investigate it/get it cleaned up, so here's hoping...
In the long run, maybe there will be some new flats instead of an ugly billboard and some dull fencing, and I'm all for that.
I've taken plenty of snaps looking at Holy Trinity from the road, but I think this may be my first looking at the road from Holy Trinity.
There was a somewhat precarious path in the road protected by those yellow plastic barriers to get around some holes being dug in the pavement. I chose the safer route through the church garden and thought I might as well take a pic from the main entrance.
On a previous wander I posted a historical photo of the church including this tree, and one from the modern day.
It's grown up quite a lot in the last hundred years...
This is the south end of Camden Terrace's little private garden, seeing as I seem to be on a bit of a garden and flower theme at the mo.
The bench at the top of Clifton Vale doesn't really have a view, and it's squeezed into an awkward little corner in the tight dogleg turn up to Goldney Avenue. On the plus side, Clifton Vale is very steep and many people are grateful for the opportunity it provides for a breather.
I last used it when showing my friend Heather the way back to her hotel in Berkeley Square after a meal in the Pump House. It's a fairly direct route to take, but even a local like me who's used to the hills around here can feel the need for a short rest here before pressing on to the heights of Clifton.
A Swing of the Plimsoll Bridge
24 Apr 2022
I was originally going to head over to the Ashton area to see if I'd missed any bits around the football stadium—and also to grab some lunch from the Tobacco Factory Market—but in the end I got a little distracted by having accidentally chosen exactly the right time to see the Plimsoll Bridge swing on one of the first busy days of Spring, where a lot of pleasure trips tend to head out down the Avon (and possibly the New Cut) from Hotwells.
In the end I mostly snapped that, and just a couple of photos from the Ashton area where I grabbed some lunch but didn't do any new exploring.
My first hint that there might be something interesting to look at was that the lock gates that I was planning on walking over were open rather than closed. Then I spotted the pleasure boat in the lock, just behind the descending steps from the footbridge there.
The Plimsoll Bridge is definitely not the oldest swinger in town. In fact, it may be the youngest swinger in town. I think the only other functioning swing bridges on the floating harbour (side-to-side rather than up-down like Redcliffe Bascule) are Junction Bridge (hidden in this picture, it's on the far side of the Cumberland Basin, carrying Merchants Road) and Prince Street Bridge, built in 1925 and 1879 respectively. The Plimsoll Bridge is mid-1960s.
The brutalist bridge abutment is the old bit, of course, as it's mid-1960s. The boat that looks like John Cabot's 15th century caravel is the new bit. This replica was made in the 1990s, and replicated the original's 1497 trip to Newfoundland in 1997, arriving in June at Bonavista, to be greeted by Queen Elizabeth.
She's just had her annual inspection in the Albion dry dock, so I suppose this is one of her first gorge trips of the summer season.
You can see the man whose job it is to work the rather complicated-looking controls in the control tower has come out onto his balcony now the opening procedure is done.
Pikto's piece on the side of the Coopers Arms was looking particularly eye-catching in the sunshine...
Ticking Off a Pocket of Paths in Leigh Woods
03 Jun 2022
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.
It's quite the commentary. But then if someone believes they can have their life turned around by a fly-posting stranger, perhaps a warning is a reasonable addendum.
At this point I'd just walked up the steep bit of Rownham Hill and was already too hot and a bit knackered. Still, at least it's levelling out.
This is a sentiment that I've often shared, I confess, but never been motivated to express in the form of paint.
I imagine the delighted customer who emplaced the previous missive on the end of the shelter had stood here for a significant portion of their life. Well, that's often how I end up feeling while waiting for a bus in Bristol.
Sidcot School, advertised at the end there, is one of only seven Quaker-run schools in England, founded 1699, situated in the Mendips. A fee-charging school, they do of course have a network of their own minibus services—ten routes in total—to ferry the kids there and back, so they probably don't have to wait for First to turn up.
While my main target is Leigh Woods, I do also want to nip into Ashton Court and walk a little path I missed last time I was in the field with the little steam railway in it, so to the gatehouse we cross...
There was actually a gatekeeper today, as it's the weekend of the Love Saves the Day festival, being held at Ashton Court for the first time this year, I think. Happily, as long as you just want to walk a stretch of the grounds away from the festival site, they just wave you in. I wanted to walk a footpath behind the railway track I walked past back in...gosh! November 2020. I've been doing this a while, haven't I?
Guessing this is a polite hint from the golf club. In my mind's eye I can see an irate greenkeeper chasing a couple of mountain bikers in his golf buggy.
To the left is the edge of the golf course. I'm looking to wander along the edge and the behind the railway, which is behind those trees.
A Quick Swing Past Ashton Court
05 Jun 2022
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.
First hint of Jubilee-related decorations on this rather odd balcony at the bottom of Granby Hill. The other decoration on this building is a peeing "KEEP YOU JOB KEEP THE POUND" sticker in the next window along that looks like it dates from the 1990s.
Fairly typical Bristol scene here, as the traffic is held up for a bridge swing caused by a replica of a 15th century caravel.
Ah, so it's the triathlon next weekend, then. The swimming bit is done in the Cumberland Basin, so I expect they'll be draining it and re-filling it with fresher water towards the end of the week. I wouldn't fancy it, even in a wetsuit.
Looks like work has finally started on the new flats on the site of the former railway depot/concrete factory/Bristol International Exhibition site.
Ah, so not only is it the Bristol Triathlon next weekend, but it's also the UWE degree show. That's usually worth a look-see. Mind you, it's also Clifton Open Gardens, so maybe I'll see what the weather's like before I make a choice. UWE's Bower Ashton campus can be absolutely sweltering on a warm day, from what I remember, so I might be better off sipping Pimms in a garden if it's too sunny.
I like the sound of "Flax Bourton". I keep on meaning to dust off my bike; maybe a trip along there would be an interesting day trip. Might want to make sure I can still ride comfortably before I try a ten-mile round trip, though...
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...
The same view these days is a lot less romantic, especially with the temporary crate from some roadworks sitting at the corner of the square.
I don't blame anyone who lives this close to the Hotwell Road (and can't get double glazing fitted because it wouldn't be in keeping with the character) for wanting a lot of trees and bushes in between them and the roar of the traffic, but I think it's objectively a lot less appealing to the eye with so much shrubbery in the way. Probably good for the local wildlife, though.
It's less obstructive in winter, as you can see from this earlier photo taken from the back of the square looking back toward me.
Samuel Taylor Coleridge and Robert Southey both spent time in the garden of the square, apparently—I wonder what they'd make of it today?
The Bristol Cathedral School has seen some controversy over the years, especially after it was given permission in 2013 for the Primary School to take over some of the Central Library. They turfed out some of the archives, which is presumably why I need to wait a week when I order an old book from the library, as someone now has to hoof it down to the B Bond warehouse to fetch it for me, rather than just downstairs.
Founded in 1140, dissolved and then re-founded by Henry VIII in 1542 after he dissolved the monastery, it's only very recently become a City Academy. It is allegedly non-selective these days, but my guess would be that its pupils' parents are significantly posher and richer than others in the local catchment area.
One last view of the Choir School building, the old Deanery, before we leave this area and head into town.
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.
"STEEP DROP INTO MUD AND FAST FLOWING WATER".
This sign has been mildly annoying photographers since it was put up, getting a bit in the way of several alternative views from this bit of land. I presume it was installed in response to some kind of accident, but I'd hazard a guess that whatever difficulties someone got into probably wouldn't have been prevented by a sign that stated the completely bloody obvious.
We start the day wandering around the periphery of the Cumberland Basin flyover system. Across Entrance Lock and then around the edge of Spike Island is my preferred route to get to Asthon Avenue Bridge and cross the river.
I've recently been playing the computer game Life Is Strange, and it's inspired me to get a bit more snappy. The heroine is a photography student, and part of the game is to go around snapping artistic pics with her Polaroid camera. I don't have a polaroid, but the game did inspire me to stick the simple 50mm prime lens on the camera and to trust my instincts on things to snap. This was probably the best result of the day.
But, of course, no Metrobuses, as they don't do anything as useful as running on a Sunday.
This small tribute caught my eye from the far side of the road. Sadly there are fatalities on Brunel Way most years. It's not the kind of accident black spot you find elsewhere in Bristol, but I suppose any 40mph dual carriageway with a lot of traffic will, sadly, have a death toll.
This drew my eye beyond to the new building going on on the old railway depot/tile merchant/etc. I wanted to cross to have a look, but the road seemed too busy.
Odd fact: Here I'm technically standing in Southville and taking a picture of Bedminster, as the dividing line between the two Bristol wards runs down the middle of Brunel Way at this point. Of course, everything in the distance isn't in any Bristol ward, as we're also looking at the Somerset border, which runs along the far side of the UWE Bower Ashton Campus.
Ah, but it seems like the bridge is closing, which might make it nice and safe to cross over and have more of a look from the other side. First, though, we'll nip down and have a look at what's causing the swing.
Now, what's actually meant to happen at this point is that all the traffic follows the giant flashing ALL TRAFFIC sign pointing to the exit ramp on the left. Then they go down the ramp, along a short stretch of road, cross the harbour at Merchants Road bridge (officially Junction Swing Bridge, in fact), join the Hotwell Road and continue on their merry way, without any cause for delay.
This never actually seems to happen, and a queue just forms here. Today this particularly annoyed the driver of a Waitrose van, presumably late for a delivery and stuck behind what he clearly thought were a line of idiots that he hooted angrily at for quite some time, to as much effect as you'd imagine.
One of the things I like about Bristol is the strange contrasts. Here we have two crow's nests. The first is the Cumberland Basin Flyover System's Plimsoll Bridge control room, used to give the swing bridge operator a good view of the whole area surrounding the bridge. The second is the reason for the swing, the crow's nest on the tall mast of the replica of John Cabot's Matthew, as it passes through into Entrance Lock.