Tagged: wood
To Bedminster
19 Dec 2020
Despite a mild headache, I enjoyed this wander over to Bedminster. The light was lovely, especially toward the end. I always enjoy the view down the streets south of North Street at this time of day/year, with the distant hills backdropping the Victorian terraces.
Coming Home in the Dark
19 Dec 2020
A nice walk home in the dark early evening—we're only a couple of days away from the winter solstice—found me getting a bit lost in Southville as I tried to knock a few new streets of my list. Happily getting lost in Southville at this time of year is in no way unpleasant, and just lets you look at more Christmas lights, really.
Sunday Bedmo
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.
I'd love to see this in action. I'm guessing it pivots around the top centre, but I imagine that the circular bit also does something quite cool.
EDIT: I went back and had another look a few months later and tracked down a newspaper article with some video of the gate being opened while it was under construction.
Something tells me Tom might be doing a timelapse, or similar, and needs to remember exactly where his viewpoint should be. I've thought of doing similar with my shots of the Avon Gorge, but they were only idle thoughts.
Solstice Rain
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.
As you do. One of the fibreglass gorillas from the "Wow! Gorillas" public art project organised by Bristol Zoo in 2011. We had one in the lobby when I worked at Axa -- some were bought by corporations and displayed publically; not sure what the story behind this one being on a balcony in Clifton is.
This one is the "I Spy" Gorilla, originally sited at Slimbridge Wetlands and Wildfowl Trust, which presumably explains the decoration, created by artist Dave Bain.
I went to have a peep at the giant sinkhole that's opened up in Canynge Square—ironically, having recently discovered the gardens were public I'd had the (triangular!) square on my list to re-visit for a few days, but now there's no entrance to the gardens due to the danger. The area was well fenced-off for safety, but I tried to get a couple of photos from behind the barriers.
I also explored the area around Camp Road, an real melange of architectures, one of the most mixed-up areas I've seen in Clifton, in fact, and confirmed my friend Claire's suspicion that an earlier snap of a sign from Manilla Road was in fact for a fire hydrant. Nice.
A stables, later used as a coach house built to serve No. 16 Vyvyan Terrace (qv), c.1840. Built from rough rubble Pennant stone and brick with a felt roof. It is orientated north-east to south-west and is roughly square in plan.
Shame I could only see the back, according to the listing:
the garden elevation is a quaint and attractive, gothic-revival composition with later classical remodelling Intactness: it retains many interior features and fittings associated with its original use as a stable, and is a rare survival of an unconverted service building in an urban setting Historic interest: it illustrates the early C19 social division of staff and the family though its disguised garden-facing elevation and blind windows
This was what I came back to check—it is indeed a fire hydrant sign, as subsequent photos of the fire hydrant, still 24 feet in front of the sign, will demonstrate...
Not as old as the sign on the building that first caught my eye, but this modern hydrant sign must still be fairly old, as it's pre-metric: the hydrant is a 3" hydrant, 6 feet in front of the sign.
Looks like it used to say "FC" rather than "FH"; from a quick google they used to be called fire "cocks" rather than "hydrants", so that might explain the change.
Saint Vincent's Spring
28 Dec 2020
Fractionally outside my one-mile zone, but I got curious about Saint Vincent's spring, whose last remnants you can see in a defunct drinking fountain on the Portway. Along the way I passed Gyston's cave, sometimes called St Vincent's cave, in the sheer wall of the gorge. It's now accessible by a tunnel from the observatory—I tried it about twenty years ago, I think, and still recall the vertiginous moment of looking down from the protruding balcony and realising that you could see straight through the grille floor to the drop below—but from what I can work out the tunnel is relatively recent. Before the tunnel was dug it was accessible only by access across the cliff face, which must have been even more terrifying.
This cave was first mentioned as being a chapel in the year AD 305 and excavations, in which Romano-British pottery has been found, have revealed that it has been both a holy place and a place of refuge at various times in its history.
A few different sources say that the cave became a hermitage and chapel to St Vincent following Bristol's early trading in Iberian wines; St Vincent of Saragossa is Lisbon's patron saint, and a lot of nearby things bear the name.
I'm not sure where the crossover of Vincent and Ghyston happens, though. On the giants Goram and Vincent (or Ghyston), Wikipedia says:
The name Vincent for one of the giants rests on the fact that at Clifton, at the narrowest point of the Avon Gorge, there was formerly an ancient hermitage and chapel dedicated to St Vincent, at or near the present cave in the cliff-face which bears his name. Another (apparently modern) version of the story calls the Clifton giant Ghyston, which is in fact the name, of obscure origin, for the whole of the cliff-face of the Avon Gorge at least as early as the mid-fifteenth century, in the detailed description of the Bristol area by William Worcestre. The place-name was personified to produce the giant's name. Vincent's Cave is called Ghyston cave or The Giant’s Hole in an article in the July 1837 issue of Felix Farley’s Bristol Journal.
In my research on the original Hot Well House, I've seen quite a few contemporary paintings which state their viewpoint as "from St. Vincent's Rock", so in the 16th century it seems the cliff-face name was typically St Vincent Rock rather than Ghyston's Rock, perhaps.
I am, as you can tell, no historian!
On the way, I also wandered around the base of the popular climbing area, which I think is the site of the old Black Rock quarry.
There are a lot of crashes on the Portway, which has always felt like a well-designed, safe, wide road with a reasonable speed limit to me. Maybe someone's trying to figure out why...
These are all in the rock-climibing area in the old quarry below Peregrine Watch Point. I saw no peregrines.
So you don't disturb nesting falcons. Seems like a win for both climbers and falcons to me.
My historical research took a wander underground recently, partly inspired by the Canynge Square sinkhole, partly by St Vincent's (Ghyston's) cave and its tunnel to the Observatory, and I was surprised to find that there might be an intact tunnel from the Bristol Port Railway and Pier still just sitting there under Bridge Valley Road. A quick search turned up this recent video by an intrepid explorer, so it's definitely still there.
I went looking for the entrances today, and definitely found the south entrance, at the start of the Bridge Valley Path, the footpath that starts with steps at the bottom of Bridge Valley Road. It's easy to miss if you're not looking for it. I think I've figured out where the north entrance is, too, but it was getting dark at that stage and the Portway was still busy enough that crossing the road was still the normal nuisance, so I thought I'd leave further explorations for another day.
Every surface of the cliff face around here is basically bolted on to stop it falling into the road.
Peeking down over the edge of the start of the Bridge Valley Path you can just make out the entrance to the Portnalls railway tunnel under Bridge Valley Road. It opened in 1865 and ran to Avonmouth from a terminus in Hotwells, but was closed to enable the construction of the Portway in 1922 (source: Peaceful Portway "Memorable Walks" leaflet)
- Nice. It's just on the other side of the Promenade from the Alderman Proctor's Drinking Fountain.
This joins up with Bridge Valley Path and a couple of other less-travelled bits around the top of the gorge, including a homeless encampment I stumbled over on another walk.
A Promenade on New Year's Day
01 Jan 2021
I wandered along the gorge today and found the entrance to the disused Portnalls Number 1 railway tunnel of the Bristol Port Railway and Pier. The door was unlocked, but as soon as I opened it I felt a sense of current habitation and decided discretion was the best option. There's a lot of people homeless in Bristol at the moment, and they don't need disturbing. For the same reason, I've omitted posting some pictures of a little encampment somewhat off the beaten track of the new Zig Zag, where I reversed direction as soon as I realised I'd come across a current habitation of some sort.
Up in Clifton it took me a little while to work out that the picture of the Promenade I was trying to reproduce was taken from the viewpoint I'd thought, it was just that the Alderman's fountain was moved from the top of Bridge Valley Road to the other side of the promenade in 1987, so trying to use it as my initial landmark wasn't very helpful!
Finally I swung past the Society of Merchant Venturers, who presumably still own most of Clifton, having bought the entire manor, including Clifton Down, in 1676, and I imagine aren't in much danger of running out of money. That's true to their motto: indocilis pauperiem pati is apparently from the Odes of Horace, and translates as "will not learn to endure poverty"...
This is what I'd been looking for. An accessible entrance to the Portnalls Number One tunnel.
I imagine this alarm was last connected to anything during the tunnel's last commercial incarnation, where is was a shooting range for a Bristol gun club. Not even the lights are wired up these days. Or the water.
I examined the rocks that had been disturbed, hoping for a geode, but no joy. It's one of my dreams to randomly encounter a geode replete with Bristol diamonds, and this would actually be a not unreasonable area to find one.
Tiny Houses, Crocodiles and Views
05 Jan 2021
I didn't really intend to record my walk today, but once I was out and about I couldn't really resist taking some pictures. The sun was lovely, but it was cold...
