Tagged: road-surface
I went rather outside my area today, as I went to pick something up from the Warhammer shop on Wine Street (Games Workshop as-was, and before that I think perhaps a rare retail outlet for Her Majesty's Stationery Office? I may be mis-remembering...) Anyway, a friend of mine wanted something picking up and posting to him, so I figured I'd knock some streets off my list along the way.
I first headed for the St George's Road area, walking down the narrow Brandon Steps and finding some strange wall art on Brandon Steep, then headed to the Old City via Zed Alley. The Warhammer shop visit was friendly and efficient, and, mission accomplished, I treated myself to a sausage roll and a flat white from Spicer + Cole, to take away and eat in Queen Square with its current decoration of hearts. I finished off with a detour up Park Street, looking out for St John's Conduit markers, before finally crossing Brandon Hill on the way home.
Quite a long wander, all told, and I'm a bit knackered today...
I think the last time I saw this little sign on Queens Parade, it had a rather different message.
Just a quick errand to the Post Office to send off Mollog's Mob, but afterwards I bought a flat white and a new plant from Foliage Cafe and headed for The Mall Gardens to enjoy sitting in the sun and reading a book on the first day this year that's been properly warm enough for it. Nice.
The Mall Gardens does actually have some signs up letting people know it's a public garden, but I think it was only my researches for this project that brought the number of public gardens there are in Clifton to my attention, and reminded me that I could make use of this space in Clifton Village, a little closer to the coffee shops and a little more sheltered than Clifton Down.
Obviously, I was trying to connect to the industrial history of the Canon's Marsh area, to the old gasworks, the docks railway, the warehouses they blew up to make way for all the rather soulless modern stuff (though I do like the Lloyds building, at least.) But what I mostly got out of today's walk is a new cafe to go to for my lunchtime outings. It's perhaps a little closer than both Imagine That and Hopper Coffee; not quite as close as Foliage and Twelve up in Clifton Village, but also not at the top of a steep hill.
No, not the mediocre Costa, but only a little way away from there: Rod and Ruby's, which opened in 2018 and which I've seen in passing several times but never popped into until today. What can I say? I was foolish. Great flat white, lovely interior, astoundingly good cannoli.
Sometimes you just have to get your head out of history and enjoy a pastry.
I know very little about the history of these buildings. There's a removals firm called Robinsons with some links to Bristol, and a building in Brimingham with an old sign saying "Robinsons Furniture Depositories", so I suppose it's possible this is a long-defunct furinture repository for a removals firm. Last planning application I can find is from 1998, before I even moved to Hotwells, granting permission to demolish "two storey office building and single storey store", which very much sounds like these two buildings.
The bit on the right still has a sign up saying it's Gnodal and Bioinduction—the firms whose car park is around the back—though Gnodal is defunct and Bioinduction sadly don't have any pictures from the Bristol office on the one-page website.
I really must poke my nose in and see if there's anything more than the apparently-tiny couryard back there.
Here's a weird thing that I always remember when I spot the endoscopy centre: in January 2019 there was a "Major emergency response after incident in city centre", where "Six taken ill after mystery substance is hurled from window near Harbourside".
As far as I know, the Bristol Post—who back then were basically just a Twitter aggregation service rather than an actual newspaper—never did any follow-up stories on what the substance was, or what on earth this was all about, but I do know the window that they mystery substance was hurled out of (or possibly into, the story's a little self-contradictory on that point) was a window of the Prime Endoscopy centre. The mind boggles.
I've still never been inside. This mirrorball is one of the most photographed things in Bristol, and rightly so. A fun bit of architecture in the corner of Millennium Square.
Bits of Entrance Lock have been coned off for ages, mostly the area with the lockkeepers' house on it. My friends Sarah and Vik mentioned at the weekend that it had recently been un-coned, so I wandered that way to cross the outermost lockgates for the first time this year. I don't know whether it's just my mood today or the weather, but it seemed a day for pushing a couple of photos in a more experimental direction in the post-processing...
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.
Another of the old gasworks buildings (or at least the shell of it.) The modern flat conversion stands on Lime Kiln Road—before this site was flats, it was a gasworks, before it was gasworks it was a timber yard, and before it was a timber yard, starting in the 17th century, it was a lime kiln glassworks, demolished 1838.
I suppose it's possible that purifier house was the reason for the ground pollution I heard about that made the site hard to redevelop, but I'm only guessing, based on the idea that if you remove the impurities from the gas at your gasworks, you probably end up with a whole lot impure stuff you've got to put somewhere...
A mirrorball planetarium, an Augustinian cathedral, some underground car park vents, a roundabout, a casino and an exploratory science centre. It's a bit of a mix.
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
This seemed to augur well, given that we were heading for Lime Walk. This is, oddly, not the first piece of random fruit I've come across unexpectedly on my wanders.
This basement club will be more student flats soon, by the looks of it. Though I actually took this photo to remind myself of a possible plot point for a story I'm writing...
There's some fascinating stuff on Victoria Square here, including a lot of jumping-off points for deeper research. The description of the bombings during the war is amazing.
This is the path that used to be known as Birdcage Walk—up until the war it was lined with tall railings—but most people now use that name for the corridor made by the pleached lime trees in St Andrew's Churchyard, just a stone's throw away. I suppose that's the one that most resembles a bird cage today. Here's a Vaughan Collection photo of what it looked like before the war.
Adjacent on the left (Merchant's Road) side would have been the church of St James the Apostle, which survived the war but was demolished for flats in the seventies.
Clifton's so posh that even the bird baths around here are listed historic structures. Mid nineteenth-century, limestone ashlar. Just like many of the houses.
The tiny stretch of Pembroke Road that I'd missed on previous excursion, once going to the left up Pembroke Vale, once to the right up Buckingham Vale.
Many people use the cut-through from Alma Vale Road through to the side door to Clifton Down Shopping Centre, up these delightful concrete steps.
The full version of 1985 cult cyberpunk film Max Headroom: 20 Minutes Into the Future seems to be available on YouTube.
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.
At some point, the local polling station stopped being at Holy Trinity and moved here.
Speaking of elections, one of the four elections happening today is the Bristol mayoral election; current enumbent Marvin Rees, an Evangelical of some variety, met church leaders here on the first day of his first term: “We prayed, and we invited the spirit of God into the city."
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.
I hadn't realised, from the other end, that this little alley was part of the churchyard rather than a way through into a private back garden; it looked as though it might pop up in the Bishop's House, and you don't want to disturb a bishop. When I worked out it just led through to the main church area I decided to walk it just for completeness, looping around and out through the memorial garden again.
It's resurfacing season in Clifton, it seems. Certainly there've been a lot of cones and warning signs around the place.
It's not glaringly obvious, but it does have the shape of an entrance to an underpass to me. I'd never really have noticed it walking past until I saw it on the map and decided to look more closely.
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.
The Fujifilm X100T that I mostly use for these trips is a great camera, but it's also a fixed lens, approximately that of a 35mm focal length on a full-frame camera. So I quite often can't fit in whole buildings, whole terraces, or whole suspension bridges :D
I tried to figure out what this used to be—didn't have a lot of luck, but the next snap is taken from an old OS map showing that this area has been a stand for public transport since long before the modern bus stop here.
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.
I'd spotted in my Canynge Square researches that there might be a cut-through from a gate I'd seen in previous excursions to the side of the Regrave Theatre.
Yup, what I thought led to a back garden or something is actually a strange little cut-through to the back of the Redgrave.
I wonder if this is the stage door to the Redgrave? And how it came to be connected to the corner of Canynge Square? Either way, I love finding these little cut-throughs that are normally only known by locals.
I successfully attained the square. Of course, people might not believe me when I say there's a way out of Canynge Square, if they've previously been burned by the fictional Lye Close...
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.
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.
