The more I research it, the more I find that Hotwells had far better transport links back in Victorian and Edwardian times than it has today. Along with buses that went to more useful places than the City Centre, there were trams, the funicular up to Clifton, the landing stage for paddle steamer services and two railway stations all within easy walking distance of me.
Today I took a day off work as preparation for doing the bookkeeping for my tax return1, and took a wander along to the site of what would have been my nearest station, Hotwells (or Clifton, as it started out in life), nestled in the shadow of the suspension bridge, the Bristol terminus of the Bristol Port Railway and Pier.
From there I wandered down the Portway, following the original line, until I got to the area around Sneyd Park Junction, where the tunnel from the slightly later Clifton Extension Railway joined up with this originally-isolated BPR line. Then I headed up to Clifton through the "goat gully" at Walcombe Slade, seeing the few above-ground bits of evidence of the tunnel (which is still in regular use) along the way.
It was a lovely day, and a good walk, and it was interesting to daydream of the times when I could have walked a few minutes from my flat down to Dowry Parade, caught a short tram ride to Hotwells Stations, and then headed from there to Avonmouth, perhaps even to board a transatlantic passenger service. The completion of the Clifton Extension Railway that linked the Avonmouth station with Temple Meads made relatively direct transatlantic travel from London via Bristol possible, with passengers travelling up from Paddington to Temple Meads, on to Avonmouth on the Clifton Extension Railway and Port Railway and Pier line, then perhaps catching a Cambpell's paddle steamer—which sometimes acted as tenders for large steamers—to a larger ship that was headed out for Canada, say.
1 I've learned that the best approach is to take two days off and deliberately do something that's not my bookkeeping on the first day, as otherwise I just inevitably end up procrastinating and feeling guilty on the first day no matter what. I have an odd brain, but at least I'm learning strategies for dealing with its strange ways as I get older...
2 Information mostly gleaned from Colin Maggs' The Bristol Port Railway & Pier and the Clifton Extension Railway, The Oakwood Press, 1975.
I'm pretty sure from looking at some maps that this is the gate that would have led to Prince's Lane, if it were still passable.
St Vincent's Parade looking a bit more run-down than normal. This street, like the one I live in, was built as lodging houses for visitors to the hot wells. I imagine it was quite a pleasant aspect before later developments like the building of the Portway.
One of the many problems with the Hotwell Road and Portway is the complete dearth of places to safely cross this road, with a varying number of lanes and a speed limit that hits 50mph for stretches.
You can stand for a very long time looking both ways before taking your life into your hands and scurrying across. It took me quite some time to dash to the other pavement at the point where this one runs out and your only choice is to head up the Zig Zag or cross.
It's a (glass-fibre reinforced, I think) concrete roof to keep falling rocks from blocking the road at this particularly friable bit of the cliff face.
It doesn't look like much, because it isn't much any more. However, this used to be the site of Hotwells Station (formely Clifton Station, before the opening of Clifton Down and the continued existence of Clifton Bridge meant the proliferation of stations with "Clifton" in the name warranted some disambiguation.)
Nestled in this little nook underneath the suspension bridge, it was the Bristol terminus of the Port Railway and Pier, whose aim was to avoid increasingly big ships having to wait for the right tides to come into Bristol and unload. They ran a line from Hotwells Station, here, to a deep-water pier at Avonmouth so the ships could moor there regardless of the tide, and transport cargo and/or passengers to and from Bristol, with this being the Bristol terminus. Work started at Shirehampton in 1863.
Originally this was an isolated line, but it was later hooked up to the rest of the rail network by the Clifton Extension Railway, and a tunnel under Clifton. That's a connection we'll be exploring a bit today, at least with a few of its visible above-ground bits.
The line saw its biggest use during the First World War, as dockers, munition workers, hospital trains and so forth ran back and forth between Bristol and the port. They even added an entire extra platform, Hotwells Halt, just down the road, to cope with the increase in traffic, platform space being at something of a premium in this unexpandable little nook, which runs from the bridge to the first of two tunnels in the cliff face to head onward to Sea Mills.
From the other angle. It was a single short platform, squeezed in to this little inset in the cliff face. Here you'd have been looking at the station wall, with the entrance and office at the far end. In this photo on Pinterest you can see the three tracks—the main platform track, a run-around loop so the engine could make its way around the carriages and onto the other end of the train, and a siding. At the far end is the station master's house, just behind a turntable that would have been used to turn the engine fully around for the return journey.
04 Dec 2021
I didn't take many pictures on this quite long wander, partly because Lisa and I wandered across to Bedminster via Bower Ashton, which I've snapped quite a lot of on the last couple of walks, and also because we lost the light fairly quickly, though spending a half-hour drinking mulled wine in the Ashton might have had a little to do with that...
Before we left Hotwells I wanted to visit a door I'd heard about on Cornwallis Crescent and also take a little look at a couple of houses in Dowry Square to consider the 1960s regeneration of Hotwells.
A glimpse of Cornwallis Avenue across the back gardens between St Vincent's Road and Dowry Road.
I've snapped this before, too: the home of Humphry Davy, but here it again for context, as it's currently on the market for £1,200,000...
And here, at the other end of the terrace, is Peter Ware's old house. According to Hotwells - Spa to Pantomime, during the area's regeneration:
One house in Freeland Place was bought for £250 and Peter Ware, a charismatic local architect, bought a stunning corner house in Dowry Square for £200 including bed bugs!
It's currently set up as a set of separate serviced offices. If you're interested in buying the freehold, they're looking for offers in excess of £1m.
As well as being the former home of Master of Ceremonies of the Hot Well, William Pennington, it was for a while The Hotwells Nursery and School for Mothers. Later it looks like it turned into Social Services' Hotwells Day Nursery, if the footage in this BBC documentary, starting at around the 20-minute mark.
Okay, away from our little Dowry Square explore and across to Bower Ashton. Along the way, we saw many, many Santas. On motorbikes. As you do.
It was this notice that finally let me figure out that this strip of land was called Ashton Gate Depot and find out a bit more about it.
Site of a manor house since the 11th Century. Last time I was in there it was also with Lisa, my companion for this walk, as a team of storytellers from Red Rope Theatre read us ghost stories just before Halloween. It was excellent.
They should form a pub. This is just over the road from The Ashton, so there's perhaps a little too much local competition. Lisa and I popped in for a mulled wine.
This is arguably better than the last time I tried to snap a cow in this field, but it's still terrible. Maybe next time I'll have a longer lens, or the cow will be closer...
This field is called St John's Chapel. On the oldest map I can find, from somewhere between 1844 and 1888 it's marked as the "Site of St John's Chapel" but with no sign of the chapel, so it must be very long-gone. "The Chapel was dedicated as St. John or St. James depending on the source consulted, and it presumably fell into decay after the village was deserted, in the 13th or 14th century. No trace remains above ground level today, and the site is just a field" says The Churches of Britain and Ireland.
I can see on the same map that there's clearly been a pub where The Ashton is for a very long time. It was called The Smyth Arms back then.
Night fell fairly fast on our way from our mulled wine at The Ashton to North Street to have a poke around the stock of Storysmith bookshop in their new location—they've just moved here from much further east along the road.
11 Dec 2021
I woke up on this Saturday with a headache, feeling like I'd not slept at all. As well as that, I'm still in some pain from the wisdom tooth extraction I had a few weeks ago. I moped about the flat for a while and then decided that the best thing to do was to force myself out on at least a small walk to get some fresh air and coffee.
Was there anywhere I could walk locally that I'd never been? Actually, yes! Although it's not a road, and I didn't walk it, there is actually one route that I've not travelled so far in my wanders. And it even had coffee near its far end...
Built on the site of Champions Dock, 1982, it says on the sign.
I walked through this little estate every weekday for years, on my way to catch the commuter ferry into town when I used to work on Victoria Street (in the days before the ripples of the global financial crash finally swept away the council subsidy for the beloved early-morning boat service.)
The Society of Merchant Venturers did, of course, own this dock, like most of the rest of Bristol. Perhaps the most curiosity-inducing document in the Bristol Archives for Champions Dock is "Papers re the Quays & Nuisances, 1751 - 1784", including "Proposals to cleanse the quays to take on Champions Dock and to deal with nuisances in the river". Well, I'm sure there are fewer nuisances now they've filled it in and built an estate on it, but it took them a while...
I came this way on a whim, assuming that I'd be able to find my way back out to the Hotwell Road. At this point we've moved from Rownham Mead to Pooles Wharf Court, who always feel like they're a bit more protective of their space, so a quick exit seemed only polite...
...but you can't tell that it's not a house from the Hotwell Road. I wonder how many times I've walked past the windows and front door and not realised that they're just the frontage of the car park?
I'm heading for a coffee from Imagine That, in the Bristol Marina. Which is on the other side of harbour. Normally I'd have walked down that side to get there, but today...
First, though, we'll take a poke around the Harbour Inlet. Here's Skyloom just pulling away from the pump-out station.
This is a LeeSan LeeStrom LS200W Pump Out Station, I believe. It pumps things out of boats. You would probably rather I drew a veil over the details.
My friend Lisa texted me to see if I wanted to pop down and take a photo or two of the event she was taking part in: Santa SUP. SUP Bristol organise stand-up paddleboarding on the floating harbour, and their annual Santas-on-paddlboards event is quite the sight.
On the way there, I grabbed a historical photo I'd been wanting to recreate for a while of the shiny and new Cumberland Basin flyovers back in 1965, because I reckoned I could fit finding the same viewpoint into my outbound journey. Also, after having only used it on a wander for the very first time yesterday, I managed two crossings in the cross-harbour ferry today to get to the best locations for snapping the paddleboarders...
So, then, this wander is mostly a bunch of photos of paddleboarding Santas. Tis the season... Enjoy!
So, mostly this wander will be a panoply of photos of my friend Lisa and her paddleboarding friends making their way around the harbour dressed in Christmas outfits. But, on the way, I figured I'd try to reproduce another historical photo.
This one's from the Bristol Archives' collection of council Public Relations photos. It's title The northern side of the Cumberland Basin Bridges Scheme: Completed and landscaped, 1965, BRO 40826/CUM/28.
I find that this actually looks quite nice, all clean and shiny and new. It probably looks very similar to the architect's drawing and scale models and what-have-you that they produce for these sorts of things.
Via Bristol Archives/Know Your Place.
And here's the site today. The weathered concrete and tagging doesn't really improve things, but at least it looks like one of the original trees has thrived.
It's less so much the look of the road system, perhaps, and more that on a busy day it's just an urban hellscape of traffic and noise. On a Sunday like this you could actually believe that children could play here (there was originally a playground to go with the fountain and other features I'm mentioned in the past...)
However, most of the time, just like with the Portway, the sheer weight and (acoustic) volume of the traffic and its accompanying fumes and danger has clearly increased beyond anything the original planners ever envisaged.
A mighty blast of a horn drew our attention to the fact that the superyacht Miss Conduct was just making her way into the harbour.
This used to be a luxury dining yacht in New York, the Abigail K, Abigail Kirsch apparently being a famous New York catering company.
Here's a snap of her in Sharpness, looking rather the worse for wear. I understand the helicopter is for decoration and has no engine. Certainly the G-MISSC registration is a bit of a giveaway; UK registered aircraft typically (always?) only have four letters after the G.
21 Dec 2021
The recent lack of posts here is mostly due to my feeling very run down following having a couple of wisdom teeth extracted. Having had an emergency appointment yesterday1, hopefully I'll be on the mend now, though it does mean I'm on the kind of antibiotics where you can't touch alcohol for the whole of the Christmas period. I have tried to keep myself a little distracted from the pain by working on the nuts and bolts of this website—you should notice that the front page loads rather faster now than it used to, and that there's a shiny new statistics page that I'll probably be continuing to work on. Oh, and you should find that the tags below the photos are now clickable and will take you to a page of all other wanders that have photos with the same tag.
Today I felt like I needed to drag myself out of the house, but I didn't want to go too far, and I needed to get to the Post Office up in Clifton Village to post a Christmas card (spoiler for my parents: it's going to be late. Sorry.) As luck would have it, idly looking at the map I spotted that I'd missed off a section of Burwalls Road in the past, and that's basically one of the long-ways-round to Clifton Village, crossing the river to Rownham and walking up the hill on the Somerset side before coming back across the Suspension Bridge.
As I was heading for Burwalls Road I decided to make Burwalls itself the focal point of the walk, but unfortunately the mansion grounds are private and the place is hard to snap. Still, at least it gave me a destination. Burwalls was the mansion built by Bristol press magnate Joseph Leech, who I've mentioned before after buying a vintage book he wrote on a previous wander. There's a good article about the house on House and Heritage which has some photos from angles I couldn't ever get to. (Well, maybe with a drone, but it seems like the kind of area where they may be kitted out for clay pigeon shooting, so I probably wouldn't risk it.)
1 My dentist admitted that she probably needed to keep her internal monologue a bit more internal after we started the appointment with her staring into my mouth and immediately saying, "oh, that's weird." These are words one doesn't want to hear from a medical professional.
As my plan was to knock off the remaining section of Burwalls Road, my first photo is the small segment of Burwalls itself that you can see from near my house. Burwalls is the mansion on the hilltop, peeping out about halfway from the left edge of the photo and the Suspension Bridge.
There was a notice of seeking possession on the gate when I got around to the far side. Looks like it's definitely going to be the replacement for the caravan park at Baltic Wharf. Shame for the caravan folk, really; this is sandwiched between major roads and not anything like as close to the pubs and other tourist-friendly places around the harbourside.
The Burwalls site is split into two halves, according to some of the estate agents' details I've looked at. This read section has some more modern-looking places where you can buy an entire house, if you're rich.
The mansion itself has been divided up into "lateral apartments". If you don't know what those are, you probably can't afford one.
Maybe if I'd got interested in this project before the university sold the place, I'd have been able to pop in and have a look around. Still, I can't blame them; when the estate was on the market in 2012 it was Bristol's most expensive house, valued at £5m, according to the Daily Mail.
That was for the main house and the old stables and lodge, which have been converted to the housing we're looking at. Given that by 2017, just a single one of the five aforementioned lateral apartments in the main manor house was on the market for £1.5, I think the developers probably did quite well...
Our first close-up sight. Sadly the main building is disappointingly hard to take a photo of. Still, I suppose if I'd just bought a flat for one-and-a-half million quid I'd probably not want some plebe with a camera being nosy around the place.
I was just about starting to feel better—the antibiotics seemed to have kicked in for my dental issues, and it had been some days since I'd left the house, and I was at last starting to get itchy feet. So, a wander. But where? Well, there were a few industrial bits near Winterstoke Road in the Ashton/Ashton Vale areas of Bristol that needed walking. I knew they were likely to be quite, well, unattractive, frankly. So why not do them while I wasn't feeling exactly 100% myself? Maybe it would fit my mood. Hopefully you're also in the mood for a bit of post-industrial wasteland, for that's what some of this feels like...
Then, at the last minute, I thought again about the Bristol International Exhibition—I've got a book about it on the way now—and that gave me another goal, which could just about be said to be in the same direction, and I decided to walk significantly further than my normal 1-mile limit and try recreating another historical photo...
Sadly I don't know much about the Ashton area; it's just on the edges of my mile and I rarely have cause to go there. It's brimming with history, I'm sure: the whole South Bristol area rapidly developed from farmland to coal mines to factories to its current interesting mixture of suburbs and industrial work over the last few hundred years. As a more working class area less attention was paid to it by historians, at least historically-speaking, than the Georgian heights of Clifton, and much of it has been knocked down and reinvented rather than listed and preserved. I see here and there some of this lack is being addressed, but I'm afraid I'll be very light on the history myself on this wander, as most of my usual sources aren't throwing up their normal reams of information as when I point them at Clifton, Hotwells or the old city.
These are some hills I'm not heading for today, but I love the distant view of Dundry from Hotwells. The silhouetted church towards the left is St MIchael's Church, Dundry, whose tower was built in 1481.
The other towers around Dundry have more recent heritage. I believe Dundry East transmitter still sends out the analogue signal for BBC Radio 4, and lets me listen to The Archers on an old Roberts radio when I'm doing my cleaning on a Sunday morning. Some bits of my life are still quite old-fashioned.
This may be somewhere around my actual destination today, though perhaps a little too much toward the east.
The buildings and green space on the hill in the background are the Knowle West Health Park. I'm pleased to have figured this out by using an OS map and a ruler and projecting a line from where I'm standing through the Tobacco Factory flag that you can just see poking up from Bedminster (you can see it on the corner of the building in this earlier pic](https://omm.gothick.org.uk/image/7175), then looking for densely-packed contour lines further out of town. Very old-school, but it worked!
I'm probably heading in more of a Bedminster Down direction. It's a similarly elevated green space further west, which is hidden behind the bond warehouse on the right in this pic.
I nearly didn't take this photo, having snapped this view so many times before, but I do find it almost completely irresistible.
I've often wondered about writing some kind of neural-computing based app that could look through all of my photos for snaps of this view and mash them all together into a time-lapse, or something, but that would be quite the project.
A better view of the ex-railway depot and part of the former Bristol International Exhibition site that I've mused about before. That's why we're on this wander, in fact: curiosity about an old photo of the site. But not a photo from round here: one taken from quite a ways beyond my normal mile radius. It's going to be a bit of a hike.
There will also be some terrifyingly industrial bits of south Bristol along the way, so be prepared for a bit of urban decay and industrial scenes.
Raised section of the Metrobus route. I've been this way before on a Wander, but also, on a day when there weren't any buses, actually walked that ramp. It was fairly underwhelming.
This area continues to be blighted with ugly and neglected-looking infrastructure. We're just on the edges of Ashton Vale, which is among the 30% most deprived areas in the country. At the north of my one-mile radius we have Clifton, among the least 20% deprived. Source: UK indices of deprivation.
01 Jan 2022
I picked a fairly arbitrary reason for a wander today. Really, I just wanted to do a New Year's Day wander just to get out of the house and to set a precedent for the year to come.
My ostensible reason was to investigate what looked like a road on my map that quartered the lawn in front of the Ashton Court mansion. As it turned out, this is just a muddy footpath/desire line similar to a half-dozen other tracks nearby, and must be some kind of bug or misclassification with the mapping system I'm using, but that's not important. What's important is that I went for a little walk on the first day of the year. As a bonus, I did happen to wander down a couple of sections of new footpath, so technically I broke some new ground too, which is nice.
Strange to think that there was once, briefly, a castle here. More on that on some future wander, when I try to recreate another historical photo of the Bristol International Exhibition.
I still have no really clear idea what this place is, and their website's not much enlightenment, either. They seem to think this is ten minutes' walk from the city centre; I'd love to know what kind of space/time warp technology they're using. Seven-league boots, perhaps?
...and this is the Kennel Lodge itself. Presumably you'd want to keep your hounds a fair distance from the house just to keep the racket out of earshot.
Which seems a bit odd, given that it's not in Hotwells wouldn't really lead there in either direction. Looks like a fairly modern development; maybe it's just one of those roads where the developers picked a roughly local name of out a hat.
Though this isn't the allegedly main-ish road I was trying to find, so I didn't pop through it.
This bit that's marked on my map in the same style as a normal, tarmac road. Clearly it's not. I think perhaps I need to figure out what's going on with the mapping on this website, as the main openstreetmap site, which is where I'm getting my data from, does seem to have it as a simple track.
A small challenge for the new year, I suppose... Perhaps a refresh of the way the map looks on the site would be a nice start to the year anyway!
05 Jan 2022
I took advantage of a rare recent day where it wasn't tipping down with rain to get away from my desk on a lunchtime workday and head up to Clifton Village. I'd hoped to snap a reproduction of historical photo which I'd worked out had been taken from the Suspension Bridge, but the gods were not smiling on me. Still, taking only a nice long lens with me worked out very well as the lovely haze of the day made more distant views quite dramatic...
The Nova Scotia pub bottom right, then behind it the chimney of the previously coal-fired pump house at Underfall Yard. In the background behind that and to the right is the Tobacco Factory, with what looks like a little red shed on its roof that I presume is actually a stairwell exit to the roof. On the left-hand side at about the same distance away is the large council block of Little Cross House. It always seems quite calm and tidy when I pass it, which is very regularly, but the Bristol Post painted a different picture in 2019 in their story headlined "Residents of 'forgotten' tower block demand council action over 'nightmare' living conditions":
People living in Little Cross House, a 13-storey council tower block in Southville, said their lives are plagued by poor living conditions, damp and mould, and neighbours from hell, drug dealers, discarded needles, vandalism and anti-social behaviour.
In the far distance, across the Southville rooftops, are the green hills of the Knowle West Health Park, I think.
If I'd really considered it, the fact that there was a bloke in high vis standing on the bit of the bridge I wanted to take a photograph of might have warned me what was going to happen...
Damn it. That's the bit I wanted to take my photo from. Still, at least on the way here I got some nice pics that I probably wouldn't have tried if I hadn't taken long lens out specially.
This is almost the photo I wanted to take, but the historical photo I want to reproduce was definitely taken from further to my right, on the bridge, and you should still be able to see the remains of Clifton Bridge Station (hidden from here by the trees on the right) and the last bit of slipway of the Rownham Ferry (hidden by the prominent house in the foreground.) This snap is also a bit marred by the temporary safety fencing I had to shoot through.
Ah well, another day, I suppose.
09 Jan 2022
It's been pretty dismal recently, weather-wise, so when Sarah called up to say that she and Vik had just left the swimming pool at the student union building up in Clifton, and would I like to join them for a trip to the Last Bookshop, also known as The £3 Bookshop, for reasons you can probably deduce, I leapt at the chance.
Not many photos on this walk, but I did manage to get down a little road I'd never been to before, basically just the access road to a car park at a block of flats, but it was on the map looking all tempting, so I figured I'd knock it off the list as we were passing.
The museum and the Wills Memorial looking resplendent. Behind me on this chilly morning was someone sleeping in a doorway under a quilt, with a plastic suitcase presumably containing their entirely worldly possessions. It's a place of contrasts, Clifton.
By complete coincidence, I took a photo of this block last week from a great distance (well, a mile, anyway) and then noticed that I hadn't actually walked along its access road and back. So here it is, rather closer up.
After this Sarah and Vik and I nipped to the Tobacco Factory Market where I managed to resist buying a copy of the Cowboy Junkies' The Trinity Session in great condition on the original vinyl. After resisting buying any books in the £3 bookstore earlier this pretty much depleted my reserves of energy for the day, so I headed back home without snapping any more pictures :)
17 Jan 2022
This was basically the quick lunchtime jaunt I tried to do at the beginning of January, only this time I actually managed to get to roughly the viewpoint I'd been hoping for to recreate a historical photo of the Bristol International Exhibition.
I did this walk about a month ago, but I've been a bit poorly and not really up to doing much in my spare time, and it's taken me this long to even face processing even these few photos. Hopefully normal service will be resumed at some point and I can carry on trying to walk any roads and paths that I need to do to make this project feel complete...
We've been as far as we can go down there on an earlier wander. From the top you'd just think it led to the Hotel car park.
From Bristol's Lost City, by Clive Burlton, available from Bristol Books; photograph from the author's own collection.
(And extra credit goes to my parents for buying me the book for my birthday! Thanks!)
The Bristol International Exhibition site, presumably around 1914 or not long after. You can see the Rownham Ferry in use, too. I still find it pretty amazing that there used to be a busy ferry and a significant railway station on this little scrap of land that I just used to know as the grassy bit at the start of the towpath, let alone a replica of Bristol Castle!
Unlike my last attempt I successfully managed to get somewhere near the vantage point of the historic photo this time...
I should probably have tried to get it at high tide to make it a bit more comparable, but you can't have everything.
You can see the White City Allotments—those glints of light toward the middle are mostly reflections from greenhouses—where the "White City" of the Exhibition used to stand. There's still a glimpse or two of the railway line to Portishead to be seen, too, along with a vestige of the Rownham Ferry slipway.
Mostly though it's the modern things that stand out—the long line of flats along Paxton Drive, the curve of Brunel Way across the river, and the roof of Ashton Gate Stadium...
Just think, I could upgrade to a flat just up the hill from me, with an extra bedroom, for only about three quarters of a million quid...
I think this may be the "avonmouth monster"; a plume of outflow from the works at Avonmouth. I took a photo of it some years back and asked BBC weatherman Ian Fergusson about it in the comments on this blog post—I'd recently done a tiny segment for his show "Wild Weather of the West" on how to photograph lightning—and that's what he said it was. This looks suspiciously similar and is in the right direction.
Poor thing needs a lick of paint. If it did used to be an electric arc lamp, I wonder when it last actually worked like one?
Anyway, time to stop my historical wanderings for the day, it's time to pop back home for an afternoon's work, more's the pity...