18 Jan 2022
Another workday, another quick lunchtime trip to get me out of the house. This time my flimsy pretext is a tiny bit of Clifton Vale Close that I'd apparently not walked, and the fact that although I'd walked down Church Lane at least once before I still hadn't taken a single photo of it. Really I just fancied a mosey through Cliftonwood in the sunshine, with the promise of a coffee from Clifton Village at the top of the hill.
26 Feb 2022
I needed to buy new walking shoes—my old ones were squeaking and it was driving me up the wall—so I ordered some for collection from Taunton Leisure on East Street in Bedminster, and decided to make picking them up an official wander.
I didn't cover any new ground within my mile, but I did take advantage of the trip to take in a few interesting things just outside my normal radius, mostly New Gaol-related. Along the way there are a couple of sanitation-related diversions, including a visit to a rare manhole cover. You can hardly wait, I can tell!
Well, it slopes down to the riverside at the top of the slipway. I presume there are still steps under there.
Leaning over the wall, we can see the overgrown steps from the bricked up gate leading down to the start of the ramp down to the ferry crossing.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
Well, I think it's a California Lilac, Ceanothus. I could be wrong. Whatever it is, it's pretty.
This is one of the three experimental areas. Nothing too apparent so far, but it's early dyas.
Moving on from Clifton Hill, I fancied wandering through Lime Walk.
I always take a look for interesting graves as I wander through St Andrew's churchyard, and there's been quite a lot of ivy clearing recently, so there's more on display.
...doesn't sound like the kind of man who would appreciate the somewhat lax attitude his gravestone is taking to uprightness.
I rather like the stone drape across the funerary urn on the pedestal. Plenty more flowers on show, too. This is the bit where most of the squirrels hang out; I imagine they're in favour of the new dogs-on-leads rule.
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.
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.
I think I'm pretty much a mile away from my house right here. Nice of someone to erect a marker.
I rarely come in this way to Leigh Woods—it's basically the car entrance, and I almost always walk here. On those few occasions I've driven here, I've mostly parked on North Road near my usual pedestrian entrance through sheer habit, rather than driving in and using the official car park that's actually in the woods.
There's a viewpoint "Quarry 5 Viewpoint" marked somewhere along here on OpenStreetMap. I think pretty much all the viewpoints on this stretch have gradually been overcome by forest growth. Here you can just make out the cliffs on the far side of the gorge through trees.
Possibly fenced off to stop people trying to clamber or mountain bike over it and cause more damage before it can be rebuilt?
So, I finished off my route along the uncompleted sections of the paths, and by then felt a bit lost, with all the turning around and circling. I headed in what I hoped was the right direction, wondering if I'd spot a landmark, and then realised that the giant hill I was right next to was the man-made iron age fort of Stokeleigh Camp, and of course I knew where I was. D'oh. Sometimes you really can't see the wood for the trees.
I was put into something of an altered state by the little pilgrimage to this random little area of the woods and my backwards-and-forwards wandering. This kind of state has been used, apparently, as a form of divination, which is something I've been researching a bit recently.
It took me a while to find the right term. At first I thought that divination through walking along my map routes might be cartomancy, by comparison with cartography, but of course the "cart" comes from the Latin for "card", so cartomancy covers divination by cards, like the Tarot. Then I thought perhaps geomancy, what with it being somewhat geographical, but the "geo" bit is "earth" in Greek, and geomancy covers, as Chambers says, "divination by shapes formed, eg when earth is thrown down onto a surface".
In the end I tripped over the right name: ambulomancy—"any of various forms of divination that involve walking, often in circles", according to Wictionary. Lexico puts its appearance as early 19th century.
Of course, presumably one actually has to divine something to be an ambulomancer, and the main thing I was divining was that there was coffee and and sandwich in my future now I knew I was near the Leigh Woods exit that would take me across the bridge to Clifton Village.
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.
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...
Hard to do this tree justice, as it was both wider and taller than the widest angle of my camera, and any further back the fence gets in the way.
Of course, if I'd brought a full-frame camera with a wide-angle lens, this is exactly the moment when a peregrine falcon would land on a branch at the same time a magnificent stag wandered past in the middle distance. You never have the right lens...
I do enjoy the bits of my walks where I can look back and see Hotwells, or at least the higher bits surrounding Hotwells.
Alan Barber, late campaigner for public parks and green spaces, helped design this rose garden at Ashton Court, and it was dedicated to him in 2008.
Trasparenza, by Andrea Greenlees, originally built for Burning Man in 2016. It has transparent benches inside, but it looked a bit of a tight squeeze, so I left the children of the family that arrived a couple of minutes later to it. They seemed to enjoy exploring. There's a view from the inside on Andrea's Instagram.
19 Aug 2023
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.
My exercise for the day is to be a short sharp shock: first we descend down Hinton Lane to the Hotwell Road, then I'm going to ascend the Zig Zag, and possibly die in the process. My fitness has suffered recently because although I've been keeping my step count up it's mostly been on the fairly flat commute to work and back, so hills are coming as a bit of a shock to the system at the moment.
From near the top of the Zig Zag you can look down a couple of levels and see how vertiginous it is.
The reward at the top is the viewing platform of the Suspension Bridge, always busy with tourists.
I was actually planning to take an unexpected short-cut through a pub as an interesting little diversion on this wander, but sadly the pub was closed—I suppose before midday it's a bit of a reach to expect any pub to be open, even on a Saturday—so I headed for the shops instead. I'll have to do the short-cut trip one afternoon...
First I browsed the books at Rachel's & Michael's Antiques on Princess Victoria Street, where I bought CFW Dening's Old Pubs of Bristol as it mentions Hotwells a few times, then I grabbed my lunch from Parsons Bakery. There didn't seem to be anything new or interesting to snap along the way, so we'll now skip to the last couple of photos I took on my way home...
One of many exemplars of the sorry state of the historic cast iron lamp posts of Clifton Village. I get the feeling that the Council wish they'd all just rust away so that they can be replaced by cheap ugly lighting rather than needing any kind of maintenance.
On that somewhat sour note, I headed home before the few spots of rain I felt became anything more severe.
20 Mar 2021
My friend Lisa was meeting another friend for a walk near the suspension bridge, so we fitted in a quick harbourside loop from my place first. We discussed gardening (we're both envious of the gardening skills of the Pooles Wharf residents; we can just about keep herbs alive, whereas they're growing heartily-fruiting lemon trees outdoors in England along with everything from bonsai to magnolias), cafes, work and architecture, among other things.
I wasn't going to take a very long walk on this nice spring evening; it just happened. I was going to knock off a path or two on Brandon Hill, home over centuries to hermits and windmills, cannons and Chartists, and then just wander home, stopping only to fill up my milk bottle at the vending machine in the Pump House car park.
However, when I heard a distant gas burner I stayed on the hill long enough to see if I could get a decent photo of both the hot air balloon drifting over with Cabot Tower in the same frame (spoiler: I couldn't. And only having the fixed-focal-length Fuji with me didn't help) and then, on the way home, bumped into my "support bubble", Sarah and Vik, and extended my walk even further do creep carefully down the slipway next to the old paddle steamer landing stage and get some photos from its furthest extreme during a very low tide...
More rooves. If a dormer window has patio doors and takes up the entire roof, presumably it's not a dormer window any more...
Built in the 1890s, funded by public subscription, to commemorate the 400th anniversary of the journey of John Cabot from Bristol to Newfoundland in my namesake, the Matthew.
From Wikipedia:
The site of the tower was occupied in the Middle Ages by a chapel which may have belonged to St James' Priory. During the 16th century the chapel was replaced by a windmill.
Perhaps in the aftertimes I'll be able to drag myself once more up its narrow staircase and take a snap from the balcony at the top.
I got interested in Bristol's medieval water supplies after poking around near Jacobs Wells Road and Brandon Hill. It was during that research I found out about a pipe that's still there today, and, as far as I know, still actually functioning, that was originally commissioned by Carmelite monks in the 13th century. They wanted a supply of spring water from Brandon Hill to their priory on the site of what's now the Bristol Beacon—Colston Hall, as-was. It was created around 1267, and later, in 1376, extended generously with an extra "feather" pipe to St John's On The Wall, giving the pipework its modern name of "St John's Conduit".
St John's on the Wall is still there, guarding the remaining city gate at the end of Broad Street, and the outlet tap area was recently refurbished. It doesn't run continuously now, like it did when I first moved to Bristol and worked at the end of Broad Street, in the Everard Building, but I believe the pipe still functions. One day I'd like to see that tap running...
There are a few links on the web about the pipe, but by far the best thing to do is to watch this short and fascinating 1970s TV documentary called The Hidden Source, which has some footage of the actual pipe and also lots of fantastic general footage of Bristol in the seventies.
On my walk today I was actually just going to the building society in town, but I decided to trace some of the route of the Carmelite pipe, including visiting streets it runs under, like Park Street, Christmas Street, and, of course, Pipe Lane. I also went a bit out of my way to check out St James' Priory, the oldest building in Bristol, seeing as it was just around the corner from the building society.
There are far too many pictures from this walk, and my feet are now quite sore, because it was a long one. But I enjoyed it.
I was tempted to investigate, just to see if it still seemed to be in use as a private entrance to Brandon HIll, from presumably either QEH or possible the Field House at the end of John Carr's Terrace, but I knew I had a lot more walking to do, so didn't divert...