Bounding to Bristol

Okay. I didn’t exactly bound to Bristol, England. I sat on a direct train there from my previous stop, Leeds.

But neither “Riding to Bristol,” “Sitting to Bristol,” nor “Training to Bristol” provides me with the dose of alliteration I crave. “Bounding to Bristol” does.

Besides, “Training to Bristol” makes it sound like I practiced to improve my performance in the sport of “Bristol.” I don’t even know if such a sport exists. And “Riding,” and especially “Sitting,” lack the energy of “Bounding.” I like to pretend I have a modicum of energy. So, “Bounding to Bristol” it is.

Okay. That’s much more than enough inanity for now. The point is, I’m in Bristol, England.

It was a little after 3:30 when I checked into my hotel and freshened up. So I didn’t have much time to explore Bristol today, my first time in the city.

I’m staying here for five nights. That gives me four-and-a-bit days in the area. I currently intend to take at least one day trip to Bath, England, from Bristol. In fact, when I researched this trip, I thought I’d stay in Bath rather than Bristol. However, my research showed that to get from Leeds to Bristol, I’d have to change trains in Bristol. Leaving from Bath to go to my next destination would also require a connection in Bristol. And, between my walking tour app and two guidebooks, there appears to be a lot to see and do in Bristol itself.

Trains between Bristol and Bath are very frequent. The train ride takes about 15 minutes, plus or minus a few minutes, depending on the train. So basing myself in Bristol and doing day trip(s) to Bath from Bristol seemed much more practical. We’ll see how it goes, dear.

By the way, Bristol has a tower, Cabot Tower, on a hill, Brandon Hill. My walking tour app says it is free to enter and climb. It also says the tower is open seven days a week from 8:00 a.m. to 9:15 p.m. That sounded like a great way to get a high-level look at Bristol.

It seemed that way, but when I looked for Cabot Tower on Google Maps, it told me the tower is temporarily closed. I then checked the tower’s webpage to confirm Google Maps’ information. Yes, indeed. It “is currently temporarily closed for essential maintenance.” At least, that’s the excuse that the Bristol chapter of the Don’t Let Joel See Stuff International Association (DLJSSIA) provides. DLJSSIA, didn’t claim credit for the closure, but we all know the truth. Unless “temporarily” is less than four more days, I won’t be climbing Cabot Tower. Harumph.

Nevertheless, during my little time in Bristol this afternoon, I managed to visit an old church, sit in a square, and wander around a bit. Who could ask for anything more? The answer is, just about everyone in the world could ask for more, but never mind that. They’re greedy.

Saint Mary Redcliffe Church

The church I visited was Saint Mary Redcliffe Church. That should be apparent from the title of this section, but you can’t always count on the literacy of the people who flop down on a site through the internet. Then again, if they are too illiterate to read the title of this section, they won’t be able to read this paragraph either. Maybe they’ll enjoy the pictures. If that’s you, never mind. Enjoy the pictures.

Saint Mary Redcliffe Church is a beautiful, old, imposing English Gothic church. It has a tall, very pointy spire that pierces the sky. I thought that was unusual, but walking around, I saw another building with what looked like an identical spire, presumably also atop a church, off in the distance. I don’t know if I’ll get a chance to find out what it is during this trip.

A sign outside the church says that Queen Elizabeth I (1533-1603) said that Saint Mary Redcliffe Church was “The fairest, goodliest and most famous parish church in England.” “Goodliest” is not a typo. According to the sign (and the church’s website), she proclaimed “goodliest,” not “godliest.”

The fact that Queen Elizabeth I said it tells you the church must have existed before her death. It did. In fact, it existed well before then. Or, at least, portions of it did. The building that stands today was built in 1185. It gained a few additions over the succeeding centuries until its completion in 1872. Don’t ask me what the newish bits are.

That was rude. Feel free to ask me what the newish bits are. But I won’t answer. I haven’t a clue. So why bother asking?

In addition to the main spire, the stone exterior has intricate Gothic decorative elements, including statues, columns, interesting windows and, although the word is likely totally wrong because I don’t know the correct one, what I’ll call stone filigree. As I said, that’s the wrong word. Look at the pictures. Feel free to contribute the correct one in the comments.

The interior has a high vaulted ceiling with gorgeous ribbing. Saint Mary Redcliffe Church has vibrant stained-glass windows, including on the ends of the transepts. There’s also a lovely chapel with a brilliant stained-glass window behind the altar. There’s also a set of two brilliantly decorated doors between the main sanctuary and a chapel near the back.

A lot of people are buried in Saint Mary Redcliffe Church. That is to say, former people are buried there. It’d be macabre to the extreme if they were still people rather than remains of people. I don’t want to even think about that. Unfortunately, I already have.

Many of the bodies, or what’s left of them, are under the floor, with appropriate stone or metal plaques embedded horizontally in the floor atop them. A few remains are entombed in small recesses in one of the walls. Above these tombs, there’s a row of carved stone sculptures of heads with severe faces and what I’m again going to call stone filigree. Again, look at the pictures and feel free to respond with a more appropriate word.

The church is gorgeous in its decorative Gothic austerity, to use what sounds to me like an oxymoron, “decorative austerity.” I came up with “decorative Gothic austerity.” I didn’t read or hear it anywhere. So, if it is an oxymoron, I’m mocking only myself for it.

If you’re in Bristol, Saint Mary Redcliffe Church is absolutely worth a visit.

More pictures inside and outside Saint Mary Redcliff Church:

Queen Square

Both in person and on a map, Queen Square looks like it is indeed a square, two blocks by two blocks. How novel. A public square that’s square.

Rows of tall, leafy trees grace the perimeter of Queen Square. Inside of that, lush grass fills much of the square. Dirt and crushed-pebble paths cross the grass in diagonals from the corners and perpendicular lines from the middle of the sides.

The paths don’t quite intersect. They stop at an area with a large equestrian statue of King William III with his head conquered by a pigeon.

To be fair, I don’t think the pigeon is an intentional part of the monument. I doubt they had robotic birds when the statue was erected in 1736. The bird’s head pivoted almost constantly. And it pirouetted a couple of times slowly. But, for the time I was there, it never gave up its perch atop William III’s conquered head.

The square has several pleasant wooden benches under the trees. I spent some time enjoying one of them.

More pictures of Queen's Square:

Wandering Around Bristol a Bit

My hotel is in an uninspiring area of Bristol.

But it’s only an eight-minute walk from the train station, and not much farther from Saint Mary Radcliffe Church and Queen Square.

There are two waterways that course through Bristol. One is clearly labelled on both Google Maps and Apple Maps as the River Avon. But I couldn’t find a label on the other waterway on either app.

I did a web search. I’m now reasonably convinced that the other watercourse is the Bristol Feeder Canal. I mention this because I crossed and walked along what I think is the Bristol Feeder Canal for a short while during my brief wandering. It’s attractive, and it has at least one rectangular boat basin attached to it. It made for a pleasant brief stroll.

Today was a good, albeit short, start to my time in and around Bristol. More to come. Knock on wood.

Pictures of Bristol Feeder Canal(?):