Tagged: wood
Just a quick trip to Imagine That for a flat white and a date ball (they're really nice), snapping the general sights along the way. No new roads, as has rapidly become the default on my lunchtime wanders, but as I'm in the routine of this project it almost seems strange not to pop my wanders up on the site.
I've not had one yet this year. It's still a bit chilly for me to indulge in iced drinks.
Have I ever noticed this plaque screwed into Cumberland Piazza before? Was it previously covered up by one of the massive rocks in the row here? Either way, we've seen the Found Installation Group's work before...
Another day, another quick dash out for a coffee. I did at least try to take a different route from normal, especially on the way back, where I yet again got a bit lost in the strange paths, flyovers and underpasses that make up the odd maze of pedestrian "infrastructure" among the concrete jungle between the west of Greville Smyth and my neck of the woods in Hotwells. I swear one day I'll take a turn I've not tried before and end up being gored by a Bristolian minotaur.
From up here it's easier to see the curving path that the end of Brunel's swing bridge would make along its little steel track, until it hit the wooden buffer on the left-hand side, with the other end pivoting out over Howard's Lock. You can see the turtable it balances on just underneath the temporary roof there.
I decided to make my way across the water to Greville Smyth Park via a more cicuitous route than normal.
Some of the Cumberland Basin Flyover System's pedestrian pathways really do feel like you're making your way through a post-apocalyptic computer game.
I'd heard there was going to be something of a wild party in Greville Smyth to mark the end of lockdown. It seems it may be the start of a regular thing, with a dance festival bringing 8,000 people to the park. I imagine I'll be able to hear it from my place, and therefore safely avoid it.
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.
Rescued from dereliction by a project that added an extension for extra accommodation, turning it into a viable conversion to flats, apparently. The architects involved were Ferguson Mann, co-founded by George Ferguson, first person to serve in the capacity of Bristol's directly-elected mayor.
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 really must poke my nose in and see if there's anything more than the apparently-tiny couryard back there.
I actually quite like this one, especially the pointed fronts of the living spaces. Decent size balconies, too.
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.
Don't know what this place is, but if they're storing their booze in 1000-litre IBCs they must be quite hardcore...
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.
So new it doesn't seem to be on Google or Bing Maps yet, at least on the actual map bit, this is the one new build that stands alongside the two historic-building-conversion jobs (Purifier House and Engine House) at Brandon Yard, basically the site of the old gasworks.
They were one of the last sites to be regenerated, after some failed attempts to turn them into offices, including by the Soil Association. I don't know much about what they do in a gasworks, but I heard that the ground was highly polluted and needed a lot of remedial work before anything new could be put there.
Back in the beforetimes, you'd often glimpse Lloyds employees working out in the company gym on the way past.
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
She was a gifted and prolific inventor, by all accounts, though apparently the news stories from a year or two back about her having had significant design input into the Clifton Suspension Bridge were due to an erroneous entry in the Oxford Dictionary of National Biography, oddly.
I have The Portable Emerson on my "incoming" bookshelf, I think, but I'm not getting through them very quickly at the moment.
It's nice to see one of Bristol's defunct fountains being put to some kind of purpose.
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.
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.
Before WWII, you can see why one might have wanted an underpass to cross between the two halves of the private garden on either side of Birdcage Walk.
Via Vaughan Postcard Collection, Bristol Archives.
I'm assuming this used to be an arched tunnel entrance. It's in the right place, anyway. This is on the north side, looking south
Looks to me like there's still at least a partial cavity. I wonder when and why it was filled in? I imagine it became dangerous at some point after the railings were taken down during the war, and there wasn't such a need for it anyway, as people could get from one side to the other at ground level quite easily.
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.
The side-door to the Arcade pops out almost next door to Twelve, one of my favourite cafes in Clifton Village. You can also access their (and other café's) back gardens through the door just out of sight, opposite the bottom of the stairs there. Those stairs lead up to the pub next door, from what I remember.
Another bit of Clifton that a lot of people miss: the gardens at the back of the Kings Road shops.
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.
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.
Either this was a makeshift altar for something, or someone was having a clear-out.
My bald pate is brighter than both the sun and the moon, I notice...
I always imagined they just made this stuff by mixing Blue Nun with Black Tower at the industrial complex that surely manufactures all three of 'em.
—now retire to your little tinder box right where they wan—
I think. Odd sentiment. I wonder if the length of time it takes to get to the "n" of "want" is also the length of time it takes a supermarket security guard to run here from their CCTV station...
This is my normal view of South Parade, so it's unsurprising I'd never really noticed the little terrace before.
Down the side of the Bristol Water building you can see the side of the mound that marks the covered Oakfield Road reservoir.