Walking at Ashton Court and Ashton Hill

The last few days have brought the opportunity to walk at Ashton Court and Ashton Hill, which has been a real treat.  First, Ashton Court early on Sunday morning. 

'Freedom of Speech' by Hugo Farmer

I've never been inside the Mansion. It's owned by Bristol City Council, and many of the rooms are in a derelict condition. In common with the other mansions built of golden stone dotted around Bristol, it has an ugly connection with the slave trade, two young women from slaving families having married, in 1692 and 1757 respectively, into the Smyth family who owned the mansion, with both bringing some of that wealth with them in the form of dowries.

damage from Storm Darragh 

It was a hazy morning, but fine and quite warm. We headed for nearby Church Wood, where bluebell shoots are forcing their way through the remaining leaf litter ...

... which is what you would expect this time of year. I was a bit surprised to see this red campion, though - it's very early.

I was fascinated by the ancient trees, some still living and some dead, though no less magnificent for that.

We sat on a fallen tree for a while and watched the ravens nesting in the Scots pines.

This tree clearly fell a long time ago, but bluebells still sprout between its roots.

Back at the mansion, there was a misty view of the Victorian terraces of Clifton Wood and Cabot Tower ...

... plus this tower of avocado on toast for breakfast in the cafe, which proved more than I could eat ...

... but was definitely not something a Cwtch could safely polish off.

A few days later Cwtch and I were back in the same area, this time at Ashton Hill, which used to be part of the Tyntesfield estate, where we met some of my school friends for a get-together. 

I hadn't walked here before, but I had driven around the nearby roads with Son the Actor at silly o'clock in the morning, a fair few years ago now, when we were trying to find the drop-off point for the filming of a scene from Poldark in which he'd been cast as an extra. (For some reason the little neon cards they use to indicate a filming location failed in their purpose, as we weren't the only ones lost.) We found it in the end, and I'd always intended to return for a walk, but had never got around to it till now.   

The scene in question was the opening scene of the first episode in the first season, when our hero is in Virginia, having been dragooned into the British army and sent to fight in the American War of Independence in a deal struck to avoid execution for smuggling. This location was chosen to represent America on account of its stand of redwood trees, despite the fact sequoia are native to California.

 

Studying the information board

It's hard to look around you properly and socialise - at least, I find it difficult to walk and talk and pay attention to my surroundings at the same time - so I'm going to have to go back again for a proper wander about. Nevertheless, I did spot some nice views through the bare branches, and some impressive old trees.

.

And of course, even though they are a bit distracting, you can't beat the company of old friends, two of whom I've known since primary school, and one since nursery. (The other two are of much later acquaintance, dating only from secondary school - in fact, I barely know them.)

Old friends at Ashton Court

A walk with old friends. And I do mean old - or rather, of very long standing, having first encountered one in our first year at secondary school, two at primary school and one at nursery school. And where better to meet them for a walk than among the ancient and venerable trees of Ashton Court. 

In the fallow deer park

The Domesday Oak

Back past the fallow deer

A view of Bristol, with Freezing Hill and Kelston Roundhill in the distance, framed by giant sequoia 

With so much catching up to do, I was really surprised to see how far we'd walked. And at least trees were obliging enough not to move off as they heard us approaching. 

The remains of Charlton

It occurred to me a couple of months ago that it might be an idea to photograph the last surviving buildings of the razed village of Charlton in their edgelands environment before the development of Brabazon engulfs them. So I have. 

Though the surroundings of the still existing lodge of Pen Park Manor are already built up and probably won't change that much, apart from more traffic going along nearby Charlton Road.

Strictly speaking, Pen Park Manor was on the edge of Charlton rather than part of the village. An imposing Georgian building, it was demolished in 1969, and apart from the lodge, a much-altered gamekeeper's cottage at the junction of Southmead Road and Pen Park Road, and a sequoia tree, nothing remains. 

Pen Park Lodge 

The Lodge now, surrounded by suburbia. The railings seem to have survived unaltered; not so the house. 

And the sequoia, viewed from the field of the hollowing oak, at the extreme left of this photo. 

Not so altered, which is as well as I can't find an clear old photo of it, is the house known as Pentre when Charlton was razed, but which now goes by the name of Cedar House. You can see the cedar in the above photo too, at the far right.

Cedar House is off the lane called Charlton Common, which I love because it still has a rural feel about it even though it's firmly in the edgelands. It was lovely to walk here during lockdown and pretend we were in the country.

The consultation document for its on-going restoration is online, and it seems  the new owners are keen to preserve their Grade II-listed house's history. In the autumn they had a table outside offering excess fruit to passers-by, of which, currently, there are few.  This seems both admirable and poignant in view of the huge changes coming. 

Although, of course, the really huge change occurred with the compulsory purchase of the land and its buildings to extend the runway at Filton Airfield so it could be used by the Bristol Type 167 Brabazon, which, incidentally, never went into commercial production. 

Charlton village

Extending the runway

It's up on Fishpool Hill, where the lane ends in railings, that this 75-year-old abruption is most stark. 

There are three houses here that were also part of the village. The first two are Fir Tree Cottage, that used to be known as Fir Tree Farm, and its converted barn. I haven't found a photo of the cottage when it was a farm, but I understand it's been extended considerably at some point during the last seventy years, and again very recently, to the point where it would be better named Fir Tree Mansion. 

November 2021

February 2023

Situation of cottage and barn with the runway behind them and the Mall at Cribbs Causeway in the background

Elm Farm on the other side of the lane still pretty much looks the part, though the land's been sold, of course.

The last few houses remaining weren't really part of Charlton, but rather the hamlet of Catbrain just up the road. (The name Catbrain has nothing to do with cats or brains, by the way; it’s a reference to the area's rough stony clay that was known to the Middle English as 'cattes brazen'.)

Here's what they looked like in the 50s. Now there are more houses right up the hill, with a Topps Tiles warehouse serving as corner shop. 

Most of the pairs of cottages have either been extended or knocked together to form a larger house. 

Another pair were recently demolished to make this road leading to a new development of houses.

A skinny little new-build squeezed into a tiny plot and then four more cottages.