Tag Archives: Bristol
A cafe opened at the end of my road recently. I knew I was going to like it. Possibly because it’s an unpretentious looking place with not a stupid cupcake in site, possibly because when I finally made it there the other day they were closed for a week because they’d gone to Glastonbury. My kind of girls. There was a huge picture of the two of them in the window, loaded up and ready to go to the festival, one wearing knickers and sturdy boots. Even better. These are not the kind of ladies to be found standing at … Continue reading
Today’s Life I Love blog is pictorial. It’s my walk to work, which I think is a perfect example of this mad-ass city; its politics, its endless graffiti, its irreverence and its prettiness. It’s a vile day today so it all looks a bit dark and grey, which is misleading. It’s probably the most colourful city I’ve ever seen. In particular I draw your attention to the golden leg sticking out of the front of the Bohemia shop and the poster for the morning rave, which I will most certainly be attending.
Our house move is still ongoing (don’t even ask) (oh, you weren’t going to anyway) but I was just reflecting on the place we’ve moved out of and how very, very much I loved it. We rented it in May when we first arrived in Bristol and never planned to leave so soon. But the house of our dreams came on the market, so blah blah blah. Here is what we’ve just left behind. Isn’t it absolutely beautiful? Aren’t we lucky? This house is where I was very, very ill for a very long time, and yet my memories of … Continue reading
9.40 am this morning: sunny harbourside. My heart is leaping and MY COAT IS OFF! This day, which always happens in March, is probably my favourite of the year. I am also loving that I am off for a research meeting on a boat. Life is good, if I want it to be.
Oli Hazzard is an award-winning poet who – like all great writers (ahem) – lives in Bristol. I recently bought his anthology Between Two Windows and every few days I treat myself to a poem. Today’s was ‘A week in the life.’ And it was (is) glorious. Spine-tingling wordsmithery at its finest. Highly recommended.
I recently went to Bristol to stay with The Man for three weeks. He has been working down there on a temporary contract. (Those of you who follow me on Twitter may remember my excitable roars as I sat in the First Class Lounge at Paddington for the first time in my life, helping myself to free newspapers, bottles of water, biscuits and basically everything that wasn’t nailed to the wall.) Anyway, I got to Bristol, had a little wander round and thought . . . Oh cripes! I want to live here! I could hear birdsong. I could meet The … Continue reading