13 Dec 2020
A long walk around Cliftonwood and Clifton with my friend Lisa, taking in some of the 12 Days of Christmas display at Queens Parade, picking up a take-away coffee from Pinkmans of Park Street, and poking our heads up against the glass of SS Peter and Paul Catholic Cathedral.
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.
With a special Platinum Jubilee celebration on offer, too. I imagine The Mall Gardens will do that rather well.
The "Brigstowe Village Band" is a whimsical name. Brigstow—the bridge at the meeting point—is the origin of the modern "Bristol". Apparently they're "modelled on the village bands of Thomas Hardy’s day when local musicians played for all the local gatherings and celebrations."
There's been some commotion on Nextdoor about the recent appearance of this sign. Lots of people who have been letting their dogs off their leads in the churchyard for decades have been rather up in arms. I'm not sure there's actually much danger of the rozzers issuing ASBOs or fines to the locals for that kind of infraction, though.
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.
A long ramble, starting with trying to find the Hot Well of Hotwells and leading up the side of the Avon Gorge to the Downs and then through Clifton for coffee.
03 Dec 2020
I love the isolation of Cliftonwood -- the geography of it, with its solid boundary of Clifton Vale to the west and Jacob's Wells Road to the east mean that you tend not to be in Cliftonwood unless you've got a reason to be there. It's not a cut-through to anywhere, at least not from side-to-side, and you can only really exit to the south on foot.
I sense that I'd be happy living in Cliftonwood -- like my bit of Hotwells, it's a quiet little area with a sort of quirky feel to it. Plus it contributes the colourful houses that are the backdrop of about half of all Bristol postcards ever made :)
I found the "secret" garden especially interesting, just for the fact that it really does feel quite secret, despite the obvious name on the gate. I've lived a half-mile from it for twenty years and I don't think I've ever noticed it before, despite exploring the area a few times.
Weird Bristol posted this picture and I don't know the source, I'm afraid. It shows the fountain at Cumberland Piazza, long-since fallen into disuse, filled with soil and planted with trees.
04 Dec 2020
I tried to find the Strangers' Burial Ground the last time was up in Clifton, but I'd not realised that Lower Clifton Hill continues further on after the turning with Constitution Hill. Sadly it was chained shut, but it still looks beautifully-maintained, perhaps by the same man referenced by this story from John Hodgson, which helped me find it. Apparently Thomas Beddoes is buried here.
This seems to be a side-door into 1 Bellevue, rather than being 1 Constitution Hill, but I suppose the house could have been subdivided so that it's now both. Either way, it's very red.
06 Dec 2020
I wasn't really feeling it when I set out today, on my first car-assisted wander. By the time I'd parked on Alma Vale Road in Clifton it was just starting to rain and I picked my way about in quite a desultory way. It felt strange, as I was very familiar with the area because I'd walked through it hundreds of times when I worked at the top of Whiteladies Road, and used to walk up the hill from Hotwells and through Clifton to get there, and back again, every day.
Then a complete coincidence seemed to make the change I'd been hoping for. I was standing taking a photo of Christ in the front garden of All Saints church when a couple of people walked out of the front door. I got talking with a lady I took to be part of the ministerial team, who invited me to come in and look around—something I'd always wanted to do on the morning commute. (I think we connected a bit when I recognised the name John Piper, who did the amazing windows—I learned about him while I was at Warwick, through his connections to Coventry Cathedral.
I left with much more of a spring in my step, wandered around the area a bit more, finally working out that the tennis courts I used to pass every morning are those of Clifton Lawn Tennis Club, and finally grabbing an excellent Hungarian sausage hot dog from the Budapest Cafe. I feel a lot better now than I did before I went out.
07 Dec 2020
I realised that if Hopper Coffee in Greville Smyth Park was in reach during my lunch hour, then perhaps Mark's Bread at the end of North Street would be do-able, too. And I was right. I also managed to cross Clift Road, with its pretty gable bargeboards, off my list, and encounter a dapper gent walking his dogs while playing loud jazz music from somewhere under his jacket. That's North Street for you.
There was some kind of portable music unit under his coat, producing trad jazz at a surprisingly good quality and volume level. It may have been Beiderbecke, but I'm not that conversant with the genre.
Pleasingly, a year and a half after I took this picture, Know Your Place Bristol tweeted a World War I-era photo postcard from the archives that has a very similar perspective on the same road (Direct KYP link)
I thought this was especially relevant as the tweet mentions that the road is otherwise unremarkable; the interest is in the fact that someone turned this presumably quite average street scene into a postcard whose image survives today, more than a hundred years later. I'd like to think that someone in a hundred years time might be interested in the quotidian scenes that comprise the vast majority of my little project here. Will this street still be here in a century? Will it still be lined with cars, or will transport perhaps have moved on into a new phase where streets are back how they were in the early 1900s, with no visible cars? (I doubt it, as that would require a massive change of mindset and the provision of decent public transport in Bristol, neither of which seems very likely...)
08 Dec 2020
I had a chance to dash down a few new roads during my lunchtime jaunt today. My favourite feature was 7 Wetherell Place, at the corner of Frederick Place, one street behind the University of Bristol Students' Union building. Apparently I'm a sucker for gothic revival, which seems appropriate for this little project, which is reviving my interest in the local area.
The listing starts "1860. By JA Hansom. For himself".
I think when I first drank here, it was called The Richmond Spring. I should've taken more advantage of their comedy evening before Covid came along.
The back of the Union. I've been inside a few times — I had a summer pass to the swimming pool for a while, and I saw Alabama 3 in the Anson Rooms once.
20 Dec 2020
A long meander around bits of Bedminster, from the river to the north to Winterstoke Road to the south, taking a few roads I've seen before, and a few I haven't. The Christmas decorations were an extra bonus.
21 Dec 2020
Despite the weather, Sarah and Vik and I wandered around Ashton Court a bit as the sun rose. Not that you could really tell. Sadly, the bit we wanted to watch the sunrise from was closed, because people hadn't been treating the deer with appropriate respect. Ah well, at least it was some exercise.