Monday, November 27, 2006

The Place at the Bridge

Clifton Suspension Bridge


In 1497 John Cabot (otherwise known as Giovanni Caboto) set out from Bristol on a journey to the new world in a remarkably small ship, called the Matthew. This afternoon I followed his path for a couple of minutes as my flight back to Edinburgh lifted off along the Bristol Channel, before turning right and looping over Wales. Yesterday I'd been standing next to the Matthew at it's new home on the docks, alongside (and dwarfed by) the other famous Bristolian vessel, Isambard Kingdom Brunel's SS Great Britain - 322ft long, and the first propellor-driven ship to cross the Atlantic Ocean. The city has a proud voyaging history, and recent grants and improvements have been ploughed into attractions like these, indeed the Great Britain is the newly-crowned 'Museum of the Year' for 2006. But it was £8.95 to get in, so we didn't bother.

It was a flying visit, but I think I got the most out of it. I kept telling my friends there, Chris and Vic, that I'd never been to Bristol before, but I remember my brother buying an SS Great Britain ornamental spoon for his collection (it was a tough upbringing), and after I discovered that the ship had been in the city since 1970, it meant I must have been to Bristol before (turns out I was 8 and we visited on a day trip from rainy Wales). But as my brother's cutlery obsession was the high point, it was effectively all new. The major tourist landmark in the city is the Clifton Suspension Bridge (photo above), completed in 1864 from a modified design by that man again, Mr Brunel. It's very impressive - it's anchored by huge off-white cables that hang in loose arcs between the brick towers. The muddy-brown Avon flows out to sea underneath, a couple of hundred feet below. Fittingly, the city takes it's name from Brycgstow - 'the place at the bridge' in Old English.

We also went to have a look at John Cabot's Tower, set in the middle of a large hilltop park. A dark stone staircase winds to the top (with some hilarious filthy graffitti on the way up), and there are great views over the city, which is surprisingly undulating. The weather forecast had said it was going to pour down, but the sky was clear and sunny, so we were out with a lot of other people surprised by the opportunity to do something outdoorsy. So to compensate, we had a pint of local South Western Ale in a converted dock warehouse bar, and hot-footed it back to their house for an evening of top quality sport. After the Man Utd v Chelsea game, a live NFL double-header, several beers, a takeaway curry, and one over of the Ashes test (it was all we could take), it was the end of a pretty good day.

So the next stage of my mini-holiday sees me off to London tomorrow morning, with eight days there - although of course I have been before many times (see here for one of them), but it's always great to visit the other capital. Hopefully my recent luck with getting wet will stop - I got drenched again today, as the forecasted heavy downpours arrived 24hrs late and gave me a good walloping as I tried to find the airport bus from the centre of Bristol. Sheltering at a bus stop, I had to hop backwards to avoid a mini tidal wave that was funnelled down the sloping road by the bus. A line of old ladies weren't so lucky, and a couple of them overbalanced and got very wet shoes. "Oh, O'im alroight dearie" they said as I tried to help them up.