Orright me Babber?

While not as famous as London, as pretty as Bath or as iconic as Stonehenge, Bristol, to me, is much more enjoyable to visit. There are ruined churches, sailing ships and pirate taverns galore for the history buffs and plenty to stimulate the eyes, tastebuds and minds of anybody with more contemporary interests.

Bayside Bristol’s early history is strongly connected with its role as one of England’s major trading ports. Famous Bristol mariners include explorer John Cabot, who reached America in 1497, and Edward Teach, better known as Blackbeard.

A less romantic part of Bristol’s maritime history revolves around its participation in the slave trade. Between 1698 and 1807 more than 2000 slave ships sailed from Bristol to West Africa and during its 1730’s heyday almost every second slave trading ship to set sail did so from Bristol.

Manufactured goods were carried from England to Africa and bartered for slaves, who were packed in like cattle for the long voyage to the West Indies or America. Those slaves who survived the brutal journey were sold for a profit and the ships would then transport sugar and tobacco back to England where proceeds were spent or invested and the whole cycle started again.

Modern Bristol was founded on profits from the slave trade and the sugar refineries and tobacco companies that followed. One of the most prominent traders, Edward Colston, even became a member of parliament. His statue still stands in Bristol and he’s commemorated by the names of Colston Street, Colston Tower and Colston Hall, the venue famously boycotted by Massive Attack throughout their entire career.

Along with Portishead, Kosheen and Roni Size, Massive Attack come from Bristol and the popularity of their sound led to Bristol’s 1990’s nickname ‘coolest city on the planet’. PJ Harvey is another musician who lived here and Bob Hope, Cary Grant, animator Nick Park (Wallace and Gromit), John Cleese, JK Rowling and Banksy, the world’s best-known graffiti artist, are all from Bristol.

Perhaps expressing collective remorse, 21st Century Bristol has become a prominent focus for the Free Trade and Slow Food movements, both of which take pains to ensure that producers of food and goods, especially in developing countries, are not exploited. Sustainable living and concern for the environment are also hallmarks of modern Bristol, with those businesses offering organic goods and offsetting their carbon footprints the most popular with locals and visitors alike.

Quick Tips:

Unless you’re from Ireland or Iceland, England is an expensive place to visit. Despite being part of the European Union, Great Britain still uses the Pound Sterling as its currency. In early 2008 One Pound Sterling was approximately equal to Two US dollars or 1.33 Euros. Current exchange rates can be checked online here.

In Bristol, the 10 Pound (20USD) admission charges of museums like Explore at Bristol and the S.S. Great Britain will probably be out of reach of budget travellers, but luckily there are plenty of other enjoyable things to do for free.

Neither the Arnolfini contemporary art gallery nor the Bristol cathedral charge admission fees, entrance to the historic Red Lodge is by voluntary donation and outdoor activities like admiring the many churches, searching for artistic works of graffiti and strolling around the harbourside are of course free.

One of the nicest features of Bristol is that there is so much water around. The body of water closest to the historic centre is called the Floating Harbour. It’s an arm of the Avon River that’s regulated to provide a consistent water height for the docks and wharves that are such an important part of the city’s history.

The River Avon flows parallel to the floating harbour just a few city blocks to the south. As it gets closer to the sea, it flows through the Avon gorge, which is spanned by Engineer Brunel’s landmark suspension bridge. The river then flows into the Bristol Channel, which is the wide bay that divides south western England from Wales and opens onto the Atlantic Ocean.

Best Way To Get Around:

Bristol is 200km west of London, 260km south of Manchester and lies beside the Avon River where it joins the sea at the Bristol channel.

There are good connections from England’s other major cities by both road and rail and flights from London, Edinburgh, continental Europe and North America arrive at Bristol’s international airport, which is 12km south of the city.

By rail or road from London

The train trip from London to Bristol takes around 2 hours and the fares range from 48.00 Pounds to 68.50.The bus trip is slower, taking 2hrs30mins to 3hours but is much cheaper than the train. The full fare from London is 17.50 and special fares can start from as low as 5 Pounds.

If you’re driving from the east you’ll probably approach Bristol on the M4 motorway and exit to the left at Junction 19 before following the M32 into the centre of the city.

By rail or road from Manchester

The 260km trip from Manchester will take about three and a half hours by train and the adult fares start at 51.50. The bus trip is some 20 Pounds cheaper but takes over five hours, with several departures each day.

If you’re driving from the north, you’ll probably approach Bristol on the M5 via Birmingham and will need to switch briefly onto the M4 (direction: Bath), before following the M32 into town.

Flying

Budget airline Ryanair connects Bristol to three or four locations in Ireland and continental European cities as far away as Riga, Milan, Porto and Budapest. With a little luck and some advance research fares can be as low as 10Euros (including taxes).

Scheduled airlines operate direct flights to Bristol from European cities including Paris, Prague Venice and Geneva. Continental Airlines fly to a dozen or so destinations in the USA via New York.

From the airport to the centre

The airport is connected to central Bristol by a bus service called The Flyer. The fare is 5 pounds to stops south of the river and 6 if you continue on to the north. The trip takes about half an hour and you pay the driver in cash as you board.

My guidebook described The Bristolian Café as "the place where the Montpelier counter culture gathers for breakfast, a roll-up and a cup of tea". "Could be interesting" I thought and resolved to keep an eye out for it as I was walking around that part of town looking for graffiti and works of stencil art.

When I stumbled across the Bristolian, its apple green storefront was glowing in the morning sun and about half a dozen people were sitting around enjoying drinks and a chat. I hadn’t had coffee for a couple of hours so the decision to abandon my wanderings for a little while wasn’t too difficult.

As you enter, there’s a low sofa to your right, a long counter directly in front of you and the main part of the café is along to the left. I grabbed a newspaper and headed for the end table. After sitting for a while, I remembered I wasn’t in the Czech Republic anymore and might have to go up to the counter to order. I’d planned to just have a quick coffee, but I felt comfortable as soon as I’d walked through the door and the chocolate cake looked amazing.

"A large white coffee and a piece of this chocolate cake please". "Av a sit loov, Ah bring it t’ya"

One of the reasons that I felt comfortable right away was that the Bristolian reminded me a bit of my grandmother’s kitchen. The food preparation is done behind the counter and the smells of sausages, bacon and eggs thicken the air. The floor is covered with classic black and white checked linoleum and the laminex table with the round corners and the ribbed chrome trim around the edge was straight from the 1970’s.

The Bob Dylan album playing in the background kept up the same theme and when the coffee and cake came out they were on pleasantly unfashionable and mismatched china. The coffee was quite good without being spectacular, and the cake was solid old school artery hardening concoction of butter, sugar and cocoa. Just what the doctor ordered (you to stay away from).

I was reading the newspaper for quite a while, but didn’t feel at any time that the staff were eager for me to move on and free up the table. The shelf of well-used books, games, and kids toys suggest that lingering in the Bristolian is a pretty common activity.

The Bristolian reminded me a little of an old fashioned corner milk bar; the type that was in every neighbourhood back in the days before supermarkets discovered 24 hour trading. The milk bars that I remember were a bit of a focal point for a neighbourhood, a meeting place as well as somewhere to stock up on milk, bread and treats for the kids, and it seemed like the Bristolian was playing the same role in this neighbourhood.

Call in there if you get the chance, and meet the Bristolian aunt or grandmother you didn’t know you had.

The Mud Dock café was one of the places I was most looking forward to visiting in Bristol.

The combined cafe and bicycle store occupy a brick warehouse near the swing bridge behind the Arnolfini. The bike store is on the ground floor and the café up above, with a large multi-level terrace offering views over the floating harbour. Entrance to the café is via the external staircase that leads up to the wooden deck.

Inside the sliding-glass door you’ll find yourself in a large open space of exposed brick and wood. A huge circular window frames a view of St Mary’s slender church tower and early on a December afternoon the sunshine was streaming through the big windows to the south and bouncing a beautiful golden light off the polished floorboards. I could see how the mud dock cafe could be so popular.

When I went to the counter to order I asked for a white coffee and a piece of pecan pie. "Sorry Sir, we’re out of the pecan". That bothered me for two reasons; I really like pecan pie and there wasn’t much else that took my fancy, so that was reason one. The second thing was that I really don’t like being called ‘sir’ Probably the barman meant no offense, but I certainly don’t look or behave like a ‘Sir’, and sometimes when I’m addressed that way it feels so formal that’s it’s almost mocking. It’s perhaps more about the tone than the substance but I think it’s unnecessarily and coldly formal and it bothers me.

Anyway, I wasn’t really there to make friends, so I asked about the Apple ‘latisse’ and was shown a small piece of strudel with diagonal cuts along the top. For 3 pounds. That’s about six dollars. "I’d just like the coffee please."

The coffee was quite good, and sitting down to drink it gave me a good chance to notice some things that I’d missed when I’d entered, like the cycles hanging from the rafters as decorations and the way that the newly constructed parts of the café (bar and bathrooms) had been skillfully blended in with the old. I also had a look through the menu and discovered that I could have ordered pastas, like the penne with aubergine, lemon and basil, for about 12 pounds, or Lamb rump on bean cassoulet with a herb crust and rosemary jus for 16.95. The meals sounded good, but were a little rich for my budget, and that’s even before the compulsory 10% service charge, which the menu stated would be added to all meals.

My impression of the café is that it would once have been a wonderful place, a fun, informal and innovative mix of bike store and café that unfortunately started to believe its own publicity and popularity and forgot how it became popular in the first place.

While there’s a lot to like about the Mud Dock café and I’m glad that I went, one visit was enough thank you very much, Sirs and Madams.

One of my first questions in any place is always "where’s the best coffee in town?" and when I asked my sister-in-law, who lives in Bristol, she started to tell me about a place called "A Fair Cup ", which is a caravan that parks down on the pedestrian strip in central Bristol.

When my brother and sister-in-law lived in Corn Street, Simone would call in every morning as she walked to work, and became such a good customer that they renamed one of their coffees "Flat White, in honour of our antipodean friends". I was a bit skeptical about the best coffee in town coming from a caravan, but it had been a long time since I’d been able to ask for "a flat white, thanks mate" and couldn’t resist the opportunity.

When I got to "the centre" as Bristol’s’ recently redeveloped pedestrian area is called, the van was easy to spot. Above the fountains, behind the sails monument and watched over by the statue of Edmund Burke, was a silver van with six or seven round tables spread around in front of it. I marched straight up to the sign that said "Coffee with a conscience", ordered and settled down at the nearest table with my first flat white in ages.

Now, there’s nothing terribly special about a flat white; it’s kind of like a frothless cappuccino, an overly-milky macchiato or a not-milky-enough latte. It’s just one of those everyday things that you take for granted while you’re at home and don’t realize that you miss until you unexpectedly find it in an unlikely place.

Anyway the coffee was good, and at 1.65 the price was right. I also had a croissant for 85p and on a later visit tried one of the excellent muffins for 2 pounds. In addition to coffee, a fair cup also serves a variety of tea, hot chocolate and Whole-Earth soft drinks.

As you may have picked up from the name the ideals of fair trade are central to the way A Fair Cup does business. All coffee, tea, chocolate and sugar is fair-trade; sourced from sustainable plantations where the agricultural workers are treated fairly and paid a living wage. In addition, all coffee, tea and milk used by the business is organic, free of pesticides, chemical fertilizers, growth hormones and antibiotics.

As is often the case with businesses that’ve paused to consider their impact of their activities, A Fair Cup’s social conscience overlaps with concern for the environment and they promise that whatever Co2 emissions they can’t reduce, they will offset. The cups for take away coffee are biodegradable and the absence of patio heaters is explained by notices suggesting "do as the northern Europeans do and grab yourself a blanket". On one visit to A Fair Cup, the staff even brought me a blanket without me having to ask for it.

I don’t think I looked cold, but maybe they assumed that Australians were always cold when in England?

Pie Minister is a great place for a quick lunch in Bristol. As the name suggests, they serve pies.

If you’re not familiar with pies, they’re hamburger-sized cases of pastry with fillings of meat and/or vegetables. Served hot, pies are a simple, hearty and very popular snack in Britain and other commonwealth countries like Australia and South Africa. While Australians tend to like their pies with lashings of tomato sauce (ketchup), British pies are usually come with gravy and mashed potato or peas, and that’s the way Pie Minister offer them at both their locations.

The small Pie Minister outlet in the covered market building on Corn Street does a cracking business serving quick lunches to shoppers and office workers. Most people seemed to be taking their lunch away, but not being in a rush I settled down on one of the benches in the small dining room that had three or four tables and space for about 15 to 20 people. The whole time I was eating, there was a constant flow of customers, which wasn’t the case at some of the other food stalls nearby.

Pie Minister’s other branch is on Stokes Croft just north of the centre. It’s a more spacious and calmer affair than the frantic stall in the covered market, but the blackboard menus offer all the same pies for the same prices and the staff are just as prompt and friendly.

For the full traditional pie experience you should choose the old standard steak and kidney or steak and onion pies, but for more curious palates, there are dozens of other flavours on offer. In the end, I went for a Minty lamb with swede and carrot pie, but I had a hard time choosing it over the Chicken of Aragorn, the Heidi (with goat’s cheese) and the Matador (with chorizo sausage).

The lunch special was any pie with gravy and a serve of mashed peas for 4.95, and this was the lowest amount that I managed to spend on a prepared lunch the whole time I was in Bristol. Mashed peas sound a bit gross, I know, but they’re not bad once you get over the gangrenous colour and vomitous texture. Honest.

In keeping with the slow food movement so popular in Bristol, Pie Minister’s pies are all prepared without preservatives or chemical additives. In-store billboards promise that only fresh vegetables and free range British meats are used, with a preference for products that can be sourced within a radius of 50miles.

So whether you’re out in search of local specialties or just following the locals to find the best value places to eat, there’s a good chance you’ll end up at Pie Minister.

Bon apetit!

The restaurant Bordeaux Quay is probably not the kind of place I would have gone for a meal if left to my own devices, but my brother had been working there and wanted to go in for dinner.

The owners and management of Bordeaux quay are among Bristol’s’ most enthusiastic adherents to the principles of the slow food movement, which originated in Italy and suggests that food should not only taste good, it should be good for you, food producers should be treated fairly and the welfare of farm animals and the natural environment should be respected.

Most obviously this translates into a preference for free range meat and eggs and seasonal vegetables grown organically and sourced locally, but there are also less obvious and more creative expressions. When I was in Bristol late in 2007, the owners of Bordeaux quay had commissioned the sailing ship the SS Matthew to travel across to France and return with a shipment of the new season’s wine. A romantic notion with a nod towards centuries of Bristol tradition, surely, but also an environmentally friendly solution and an effective way to reduce greenhouse gas emissions.

The restaurant is housed in a restored two storey warehouse with tall windows that look out across the water towards the Arnolfini. At first glance the interior looks like just another minimalist contemporary design, but when you settle in, it’s surprisingly inviting and warm. Brendon pointed out that most of the timber, including hundreds of square metres of flooring, was reclaimed or recycled. On closer inspection there were lots of clever touches like solid wooden butchers’ cutting blocks used as coffee tables, furniture constructed from reclaimed timbers and an interesting arrangement of ink-stamped wine cases hanging above the bar.

By now, I was starting to think that perhaps Bordeaux Quay was my kind of place. And then the food came. I’d ordered the least expensive thing on the menu, the mackerel with winter greens (for 10 Pounds), and it was absolutely delicious. I never found out precisely what winter greens were, but I gather that it’s something like nettles or wild growing spinach. In any case, it and a squeeze of lemon complemented the fish beautifully and thinking about it now is making me hungry. My brother chose the venison pie which he said was excellent and Simone had rabbit in wine sauce (both around 13 Pounds),

Bordeaux Quay itself (the actual quay) is named for the ships that would pull in loaded with French wine. The barrels would be unloaded at the dockside and then rolled along the maze of tunnels under Bristol and end up as far away as the cellars of Avery’s the wine merchants, which is up on the hill above Bristol cathedral. So that the heavy barrels could be rolled downhill, the floor of the tunnels were cut at a slight decline, and the buildings at the other end used winches to haul goods up from the cellars, which could be three or four floors deep.

With not just a theoretic preference for sail power over diesel, but the commitment to put that preference into action, the existence of mysterious tunnels, clever use of reclaimed timber, a demonstrable respect for the environment, and top notch food, it turned out that Bordeaux Quay was my kind of place after all.

The Arnolfini is Bristol’s contemporary art museum. Not only is it an important focus of contemporary cultural life in Bristol, its location overlooking the water at the head of Narrow quay makes it a prominent symbol of the waterfront regeneration that has transformed Bristol over the last few years.

The beautifully restored old warehouse that houses the Arnolfini sits at the head of a piece of land that almost juts out into Bristol’s floating harbour. A statue of ocean explorer John Cabot looks out across the water at the point and two very different bridges approach the Arnolfini from either side.

The two bridges are wonderful illustrations of the two architectural styles that complement each other in this part of town. On the left is an old 19th Century swing bridge that rolls out of the way when boats need to pass, and has the beauty and dignity of something built solidly with little technology and no pretension towards being anything more than functional.

The second, more modern, bridge is a slender pedestrian-only affair with a dogleg at the centre where two big metal cones like the speaker flutes of a spaceman’s gramophone protrude from either side. The flutes have no function other than decorative, but people seem to like them and they’re an unmistakable symbol of modern Bristol. This bridge is called Pero’s bridge in memory of a slave who was brought to Bristol from the West Indies in the 17th century.

The entrance to the Arnolfini is on the side nearest the modern bridge and there are galleries on all three floors of the building, as well as a colourful ground floor café, a bookstore and a room for reading and research.

When I visited there were three different exhibitions underway. The first was a series of paintings that reminded me of gift wrapping paper from the late 1980’s, the second a series of paintings and some interesting ‘Wunderkammer’ cabinets of curiosities presented as a collection. This one had old books, toys and personal effects from the 1950’s-lots of cool old stuff. The exhibit in the third floor audio visual room was a film of a woman singing the words "Look what they done to my song, Ma" over and over again in an operatic screech to a tune that apparently only she could hear and in no way resembled Melanie’s original.

While I understand and appreciate the need for contemporary art to challenge preconceived ideas there wasn’t much there for me and I found myself wandering off to look through the bookstore and the reading room before too long. Both are fantastic.

The reading room is stocked with catalogues of past exhibitions, journals and magazines, and has computers set up to access more information about art, sculpture and upcoming events at the Arnolfini. The bookstore has hundreds and hundreds of books on art, culture and related topics and lengthy browsing seems to be not only tolerated, but encouraged.

Even if you don’t get any more from the contemporary art exhibits than I did, it’s still worth paying at least a short visit to the Arnolfini. Admission is completely free of charge and the bookstore and library hold as much material as any gallery. In the warmer months the café apparently sets up an outdoor area which must be the perfect place for a spot of people watching or to contemplate the evolution, for better or worse, of Bristol’s harbourside.

The Red Lodge is a merchant’s house dating from the late 1500’s. Having passed through the hands of many owners and twice serving as a school, it’s now open to the public as a museum-quality display of historic furniture and architecture.

The lodge is on Park Row, which is an extension of Queens Road that curves around behind the Wills tower at the top of Park Street. The exterior is unremarkable but steeping through the front door is like stepping into the England that you know from classic romantic novels or historical dramas starring Judy Dench or Cate Blanchett.

We (my brother, sister-in-law and I) were greeted, given printed texts and directed upstairs by the two very pleasant ladies taking care of the Red Lodge. The first room you’ll come to is the Great Oak Hall and is the architectural highlight of the Red Lodge. The walls are entirely lined with oak panelling, some of it quite elaborately carved, especially around the doorways.

The plasterwork ceiling and the stone fireplace surround are just as elaborate, there’s a view out into the manicured garden, and an original 16th century portrait of Queen Elizabeth keeps watch over it all. The official text suggests that the room is considered the finest example of its kind in Western England.

When you tear yourself away from the impressive oak hall, head for the doorway over near the windows. It brings you into a small antechamber which then leads to a bedroom. The panelling here is not as elaborate, but there’s a beautiful old four poster bed with a carved wooden canopy and deep olive green drapery and covers. The bed is another 16th century original and it’s roped off, so anyone who plans to bounce on it to try it out will unfortunately have to rethink their plans.

The next two rooms exhibit historic furniture and artworks. Some of the furniture is connected with Mrs. Mary Carpenter who, in 1854, established the first reform school for girls in England (and possibly the world) here in the Red Lodge. There are also numerous historic portraits and an amazingly intricate grandfather clock, decorated in black and gold lacquer.

Even the staircase is worth lingering on. The chandelier is a concession to modernity and safety that holds about twenty small lightglobes and illuminates the golden-framed baroque mirror and twin portraits of John and Mary Henley, who owned the house in Bristol’s 1730’s slave trade fuelled heyday.

Back on the ground floor there are two more rooms to visit, but their original details have been lost and they’re mostly interesting for the furniture that they contain, including a chest of drawers dated 1658 and inlaid with mother of pearl.

Especially if you’ve been focusing on Bristol’s modern attributes, the Red Lodge is a good place to get your dose of historic England, and with the entrance being by donation, it’s guaranteed to be within your sightseeing budget.

Banksy is possibly the world’s most famous graffiti artist. He’s been variously described as an "elusive art terrorist", "shadowy", "a streetwise scourge of the establishment" and has painted and stencilled across several continents, most famously on the Palestinian side of the Jerusalem wall. His work has also hung, albeit briefly, in some of the major galleries of the world, including the Tate, the Louvre and the New York Metropolitan.

While Banksy’s identity remains a secret and he rarely gives interviews, it is certain that he’s from Bristol. While his work is gradually disappearing from the city’s streets and lanes, some of the larger paintings have become prominent and popular local landmarks.

Up on Stokes Croft, the Mild, Mild West mural; a teddy bear aiming a Molotov cocktail at riot police, faces one of the main roads as it approaches central Bristol, and tells the story of heavy handed police treatment of the soft and cuddly Bristol dance music subculture that nurtured artists like Massive Attack, Roni Size and Portishead.

A more recent mural faces the bottom of busy Park Street as it approaches College Green and the Bristol cathedral. Five or six metres above ground level, a fully-clothed and angry man peers out the window while his semi clad wife tries to calm him and her as yet unseen lover dangles by his fingertips from the window sill. If you’re anything like me, you’re first reactions will be "ha, that’s funny", quickly followed by "how the heck did he get up there?"

Another Banksy stencil that has survived in the centre is on the side of the Thekla, which is an old German warship that’s now used as an entertainment venue and is moored just upstream from the Arnolfini and the Mud dock café on the floating harbour. From the other side of the river you can see Banksy’s grim reaper rowing along in a canoe

Finding more Banksy stencils will require a bit of walking and the area around the teddy bear mural, just north of the centre up to Picton Street, is a good place to start. Not only will you spot Banksy works like the statue of liberty dancing the can-can and holding an assault rifle, there’s also plenty of other good graffiti in the neighbourhood.

Some of the other graffiti is obviously just as political as some of Banksy’s work, but there are lots of styles and some of the pubs and nightclubs have invited graffiti artists to decorate their buildings. The result is a colourful and vibrant neighbourhood that’s a delight to walk around, especially if your wanderings mean that you end up near the Bristolian café on Picton Street and you have time to pop in there for a cuppa.