Tagged: vehicle
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.
Here we are at the end of Pembroke Place, wandering a little alleyway I'd not previously filled in on the map. I didn't have high hopes for much of interest in this parking area behind Spar and Marcruss Stores. However, I did find something interesting, as we'll see in a couple of photos' time.
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...
Not much to be seen in this direction except the crane on the site where they're busily filling a gap with new flats. We'll see the front in a little while.
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.
Interesting to think that this street art will presumably be sitting as a layer in between Marcruss Stores and the new-build flats for ever...
Here's a snap from before the cover-up.
Having checked the planning application it seems these may be going to be called the Black Horse Apartments, echoing the former name of Pembroke Place, which is a nice little touch.
On St George's Road. This is where I ended up spending most of my stopping time on the walk. I managed to resist most temptations and came away having only spent £2 on a paperback of The Mill on the Floss. I read Silas Marner a while back and really liked it, so I've been wanting to try some more Eliot.
I shall add it to my tsundoku collection.
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.
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.
I thought I'd come and see how the wildflower garden was getting along. It's its first year, after a crowdfunder last year raised nearly £2000 to buy seeds, plug plants and signage.
Although the sign earlier said that you'd still be able to picnic here, I've never actually seen much picnicking. I think that's likely because of the danger of any round picnic items—around here more likely croquettes de foie gras than sausage rolls—escaping down the hill.
They're never open on Easter Monday, are they? Answer in two pic's time. Don't hold your breath.
I reckon this has recently been repainted. It definitely caught my eye in the spring sunshine.
Boyce's Avenue, named for Thomas Boyce, according to Veronica Smith's excellent The Street Names of Bristol (I'm borrowing the Clifton Library copy at the mo):
In 1763, Thomas Boyce, a wig-maker, kept lodging houses here for visitors to the Spa. Within ten years he was bankrupt.
I wonder if the building of nearer lodgings down in Hotwells might have been part of the cause? The street I live in was one of those!
As you can see, it's fair bustling these days, especially on a bank holiday with the cafes doing a good trade. Despite the giant SUV in the picture, which was presumably doing a shop delivery, the street is pedestrianised and mostly car-free these days, at least at certain hours.
This has led to a spreading of pavement cafe culture in Clifton Village, with Princess Victoria Street being the latest (somewhat controversial) experiment.
Made by the Sunbeam Motor Car Company, this was first registered in 1925, according to the DVLA's online enquiry system. Looking pretty good for its age. The mechanic working on it looked to be of similar vintage.
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.
Pikto's piece on the side of the Coopers Arms was looking particularly eye-catching in the sunshine...
This is a plaque to the Cumberland Basin Stabilisation Works, completed in 1991, about which I can find virtually nothing on the internet. The face is too crumbled to read all the words, but I seem to remember that it's a lot more legible at certain times of year/day when the sunlight slants across its face. I'll keep an eye out for a better photo opportunity.
In the meantime, there's a picture of this entire area being resurfaced while the basin is drained and dredged on this selection of 1991 photos on the Evening Post site, which I'm assuming might have been part of this project.
Can't spot any music or a cafe in this photo? I don't blame you. But, if you look mid-left, you'll see a circular concrete plinth where the cafe used to stand near the children's playground in the heyday of the Cumberland Basin. And behind it is what caught my ear as I was crossing the lock gates—a saxophonist is practising his scales.
I've come across practising musicians in this area before. Presumably they've come away from home to avoid annoying the neighbours (or the rest of the family!) The traffic noise covers even unmuted brass quite well—by the time I was at the other end of the footbridge, on the far side of the flyover, I could barely hear him.
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.
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.
Right, back to Clifton Village for a coffee and some lunch to take home. I see the one way system—brought in as a social distancing measure—is still in place.
The Mall was pleasantly decked out with bunting and there was live music, but sadly I got there just as the skiffle band were finishing the last song of their set. Plus I was knackered by this stage—in the end my walk lasted three hours, and I'd walked 10k by the time I got here—so I decided just to get a quick take-away from Coffee #1 (awful Coronation Chicken sandwich, sadly, will probably never try food there again) and head home, so this is my last snap of the wander.
(I timed it well, as the rain started not long after, and right now at half past five in the afternoon while I'm editing these photos it's coming down a storm. A very typical Bank Holiday in England!)
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.
Fairly typical Bristol scene here, as the traffic is held up for a bridge swing caused by a replica of a 15th century caravel.
Yup, it's definitely all kicking off. They'll probably manage to build an entire development here before the Council finish fixing the bit of Cumberland Road that collapsed just around the corner.
By which I mean that I saw something interesting coming but didn't have time to change the shutter speed and didn't think of panning in time.
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.
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?
One last view of the Choir School building, the old Deanery, before we leave this area and head into town.
Library business concluded, I decided that my feet weren't quite sore enough, so decided to head back home by completing a circuit of the harbour rathter than just heading back down the noisy Hotwell Road. Wandering past the Arnolfini, I spotted this from a viewpoint not far from where the status of John Cabot stands, surveying the docks.
For now, though, I escaped the hustle and bustle of Wapping Wharf by crossing Gaol Ferry Bridge—soon to be closed for "at least six to nine months" much to the distress of local businesses. And I imagine the local businesses know what the Council normally mean by "six to nine months": somewhere between two and three years would be my guess.
There's something very pleasing about industrial switchgear to me. This is comparatively modern, put in the last time the lock gates were replaced/refurbished, from what I remember, but still has that pleasingly 1950s look of good solid gear.
As you can see, there were quite a lot of boats waiting to leave Bristol for a jaunt down the river, most notably the Matthew, and Bristol Packet's Bagheera.
As a pedestrian I have a few alternative routes to cross. I decided to stroll down to the outer lock gate and get back to my side of the harbour there rather than going the long way around over the Plimsoll Bridge.
In the distance you can see a lockkeeper fishing in the water with a grappling hook on the end of some blue line to see if he can figure out what the gate is fouling on.
While I was tempted to hang around to see if they eventually pulled anything out of the way, the heat of the day was beating down pretty hard by this point and I didn't want to risk sunburn, so I headed home. As did all the boats in the lock, who returned back into Cumberland Basin and presumably eventually back to the city, refunding/rebooking their passengers.
I found out that my decision to leave had been a good one two days later, on Tuesday evening, when I happened to be on my walking commute home during another locking out, this time with the lock gates working. I asked the lock keeper about the problem, and apparently they'd tried hooking out whatever was fouling the gate for quite some time on Sunday, but eventually gave up and sent divers in on Monday, who pulled out a large section of chain-link fence that was fouling the south lock gate and got everything working again.
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.
The street art is still looking good, but one of these properties has been turned into such low-end multiple-occupancy accommodation that it got into the Bristol Post this week with pictures of one tiny room with a shower alongside the bed serving as the sole room per person, with a toilet shared between four "studio rooms". I suppose this is actually better than the student accommodation I had in my first year at Warwick, but at least that was actually on campus...
El Rincon is a long-established Spanish cafe/bar on North Street. The BAR sign always reminds me of the quirky typefaces used in things like The Pink Panther.
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.
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.
I walked back to the point I'd spotted all this activity from the far side of the road. This is the old tile merchant/concrete works/Ashton Gate Railway Depot/Bristol International Exhibition site. I imagine it was plenty of other things along the way, too. Here's an earlier snap with a bad photo from the far side of the site, but some detail on what the site was/will be along with a link to planning documents.
I'm currently toying with the idea of a little mini-website that takes a digitised and vectorised version of the Bristol International Exhibition plan (from 1914) and superimposes it on the same area today. It'd be interesting to see exactly where things were. My best guess from eyeballing it at the moment is that in 1914, this view would be looking towards the International Pavilion, Concert Hall and Art Gallery areas of the Exhibition, and we'd be standing on the train tracks that used to head for Ashton Avenue Bridge, which back then would have been a double-decker road and rail swing bridge, with the trains on the ground level deck, the road on the top deck, and a high-level swing control room above it all. Quite some feat of engineering.
They really couldn't make it much clearer that drivers are meant to nip off down the off ramp up ahead and take Junction Swing Bridge instead. But if anyone ever does I've not seen it. I don't think I've ever been caught in the queue here as a driver, but then I don't do much driving.
Nipping Up the Zig Zag to the Shops
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.
I would absolutely love to have lived in this area before World War II, before the widening of the road knocked down so many interesting things and replaced them with a few busy lanes of traffic, before the tramways were bombed into oblivion, and while you could still wander down to these moorings and catch a White Funnel boat out to Ilfracombe, or at least wander down to Hotwells Station and catch a steam train out to Shirehampton, Sea Mills or Avonmouth. Pre-1934 I could even have skipped the arduous walk up the Zig Zag and taken the 40-second ride up the funicular railway to Clifton Village...
The Hotwell Road really needs more facilities for pedestrians. I spotted plenty of other walkers just on my brief trip along this short section, but all of us were being forced out to share the road with the busy traffic or prevented from crossing to the safer side and back as we made our way.
Thin pavements and a lack of crossings really show how much the car is king in this bit of Bristol, despite the gorgeous landscape.
Mardyke then and Now
18 Mar 2021
Reproducing historical photos seems to be a developing interest for me. On today's wander I just went for my normal coffee at Imagine That, but along the way I stopped at Baltic Wharf (the modern housing estate; historically-speaking, I was probably in between Canada Wharf and Gefle Wharf—about here, in fact) to reproduce a 1930s photo of the Mardyke area from the Tarring collection.
Mardyke, from what I can work out, means "a ditch along the margins". Before my researches, I only really knew the name from the Mardyke pub, a big place on the Hotwell Road. Everyone knows the Mardyke, partly because of its size and signage, but I've only been in once or twice, too long ago to remember much of what it was like. However, the wharf there used to be known as Mardyke Wharf, and the area in general as Mardyke. (I just found an 1826 painting by Thomas Leeson Rowbotham of "Mardyke seen from near Hilhouse's Dock, showing the 'Clifton Ark' floating chapel" that shows the area before much development had happened, incidentally, and now I feel like I need to find out a bit more about the floating chapel...)
I enjoyed snapping the "after" photo; the process involved moving a group of swans out of the place I needed to stand to get the photo; luckily I've started carrying waterfowl food along with my on my harbourside jaunts, so I could use bribery rather than a more confrontational approach. Not sure I'd fancy my chances against a swan, though I did once team up with another passerby to shoo a recalcitrant one off the Redcliffe bascule bridge so a busful of commuters could continue their journey to work...
Via Know Your Place Bristol/the Tarring Collection.
The Mardyke area—apparently Mardyke means a dyke on the margins, which would make sense for the location—in the 1930s. That's got to be a Campbell paddle steamer from their White Funnel fleet, but I don't know which one. Looks to be a similar configuration to the Princess May, though the paddles look a bit different. In the background, the Mardyke Pub still stands today, but the three largest buildings do not. They are:
Top right: the Clifton National School (there's a Loxton sketch uploaded to this Wander where you can see the name on the front.)
Directly in front and below the Clfiton National School, on the main Hotwell Road: The Clifton Industrial School, Mardyke building.
Standing halfway up the hill, more towards the middle of the picture: the Clifton Industrial School, Church Path Steps building.
Lots of info to be found on the Industrial Schools here:
In addition to their classroom lessons, the boys were employed in tailoring, shoemaking and brush-making, with basket making later added. The boys also assisted with the kitchen, laundry, and house work. In 1870, some additional rooms were rented in the locality for use as an infirmary if required. A School band was established.
I can't find so much on the National School (though apparently the Bristol Archives have some of their records) but the Clifton & Hotwells
Character Appraisal suggest it was built in 1835 and, along with the Industrial School buildings, destroyed during WWII:
A bomb also largely destroyed the Clifton National School and Mardyke House School. The lack of bomb- proof shelters in Clifton led to the Clifton Rocks Railway to be used as shelter, which was prepared for occupation in 1940.
Quick Around-the-Harbour Wander with Lisa
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.
It's a floating cider bar, normally moored near Bristol Bridge, hence the name. It seems very small for the dry dock here. They once launched ships so big from here that one of them (MV Dumra) collided with Mardyke Wharf, opposite, with enough force to stave in the harbour wall and buckle the railway lines. Not much danger of that from the Apple, I'd think.
There's no date on the Dumra picture, but [she was completed in 1922, so I think that must bt the year the photo was taken. Unless they had to reel her back in, fix her and re-launch her.
Well, they're a gang, and they're bikers. I don't think it was the Hell's Angel's, though.