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CITY HISTORY
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The Cinderella line, and other stories
Will a post-pandemic reallocation of investment to public transport will make the renaissance of the Severn Beach Line a harbinger of better times for Bristol’s suburban railways? Recalling big local changes he’s witnessed, Andrew Swift wonders
When I wrote my first article for The Bristol Magazine in 2004, I little thought that 17 years later I’d be celebrating its 200th issue. It was very much the new kid on the block back then, but quickly established itself as the place to keep up to date with what’s happening in the city, while expanding and adapting to keep up with changing times. Nothing illustrates this better than its reaction to pandemic and lockdown. When magazine distribution – like everything else involving social contact – became well-nigh impossible, an online newsletter was launched, which has rapidly become an essential weekly read.
The pandemic has made such seismic changes to all of our lives that it’s easy to forget how much else has changed since 2004. To take one example, the fortunes of the Severn Beach Line – featured in my first article 17 years ago – have been transformed beyond recognition. Back then, I dubbed it ‘the Cinderella Line’, and the story I told was one of decline and dereliction, with services cut to a minimum and no trains on Sundays. Delays and cancellations were a regular occurrence and, as a result, passengers had abandoned the railway in droves. It had all the signs of a deliberate rundown, and, when it was announced that part of the line was being considered for a Metrobus route, it seemed that closure had already been decided on.
A group had been formed to fight for better services however, and, largely thanks to their efforts, things gradually improved. In 2004, fewer than 350,000 journeys a year were made on the line. Prepandemic, this had risen to 1.4 million, an astonishing turnaround, although there is clearly potential for much more growth, with the Friends of Suburban Bristol Railways campaign group calling for trains every 15 minutes. A park-and-ride station at Avonmouth –promised for over 20 years – is also finally due to open, but, in sharp contrast to the resurgence of railways in other metropolitan areas, it will be the first station to open around Bristol since Yate in 1989. Yet, while the city’s population has boomed, trains still run past stations closed in the 1960s, and calls for services to be reinstated to Henbury, Portishead and Thornbury, where the tracks were retained for freight, continue to fall on deaf ears.
After years of campaigning, it looks as though a station at Ashley Hill may reopen in 2023, but, considering how much could be done to improve Bristol’s suburban rail network, and how much has been spent making road traffic flow that bit faster, this seems rather like a token gesture. Who knows, though? Perhaps a post-pandemic reallocation of investment to public transport will make the renaissance of the Severn Beach Line a harbinger of better times for Bristol’s suburban railways.
Following on from that first article, I hit on the idea of raising the line’s profile by devising a series of walks from stations along it, which eventually formed the basis for a book: Walks from Bristol’s Severn Beach Line. These weren’t the only walks I came up with for The Bristol Magazine, though. Looking back over my contributions since 2004, I was astonished to discover that I had contributed over 170 walks, and, while some ventured as far afield as South Somerset, Devon, the Marlborough Downs and the Wye Valley, most were local. As well as exploring places such as Blaise Castle, Leigh Woods and the Downs, I featured lesser-known spots such as Trooper’s Hill, St Anne’s Wood, St Werburgh’s and Bedminster’s Northern Slopes. Some of the walks linked popular parks with green spaces established – often in the face of opposition from the authorities or developers – by local communities, and highlighted inspiring projects springing up in the most unexpected places.
In the wake of the pandemic, our awareness of the importance of green spaces has increased enormously. Walking, too, is more popular than ever, and here it helps that Bristol is such a great city to explore on foot, due in no small measure to its hills. Many cities have rivers running through them but very few have gorges. This isn’t only a question of great views; it’s also about juxtaposition of scale and texture – just think, for example, how much less dramatic the exuberantly multi-coloured terraces of Cliftonwood, Redcliffe or Totterdown would be if they weren’t perched on the edge of cliffs.
One thing I always aimed to include in my walks was a decent hostelry to call into en route. Pubs were also a recurrent theme in many of my other articles. It was in 2006 that I first flagged up the threat to Bristol’s pubs. Back then, six pubs across the UK were closing every week – the latest estimate puts the figure at 29. Despite this calamitous decline, most of the traditional pubs I featured in that article – such as the Cornubia, the King’s Head in Victoria Street and the Port of Call off Whiteladies Road – are still going strong. One, though – the Adam & Eve in Hotwells – has been less fortunate, and is currently closed, with permission for conversion to flats, although with a glimmer of hope that it may be saved by a community buyout.
The number of pubs in Bristol may have fallen, but the number of breweries has rocketed. In 2006, I lamented the closure of Smiles’
The number of pubs may have fallen, but the number of breweries has rocketed... Craft beer bars and tap rooms have become a flourishing aspect of the social scene
Brewery on Colston Street, while hailing Zero Degrees across the road as ‘Bristol’s newest brew pub’. At the time, there was only one other brewery in Bristol – Bristol Beer Factory. Today there are 24, 11 of which have opened in the last five years, while craft beer bars and tap rooms have become a vibrant, flourishing aspect of the social scene.
Leafing back through old articles is a salutary way of realising how much has changed. In the magazine’s early days, I devised a Banksy trail – today, although Banksies are still popping up, and Banksy is as elusive as ever, street art has exploded across the city. Upfest has put Bedminster well and truly on the map, and there are street art trails galore. Then there’s the former Roman Catholic procathedral on Park Place, once one of Bristol’s most evocative buildings. In 2006 I described it as ‘dilapidated and cloaked in vegetation, like something you might stumble across in an abandoned outpost of civilization’. I have a vague recollection from around this time of it being used for a site-specific performance involving a Gothic banquet. Today, the vegetation has been stripped away and the building shines forth as student digs.
The juxtaposition of old and new is one of Bristol’s enduring delights. Nowhere is this contrast more stark than in the halfforgotten lanes and alleyways along the line of the city’s medieval walls – and nowhere was the contrast more bizarre than where Tower Lane, north of Broad Street, led onto a desolate footbridge over Nelson Street. The bridge was part of a never-completed 1960s scheme to create a ‘city in the sky’ – a city-wide network of walkways at first-floor level, with the streets below given over to traffic. I never saw anyone cross it and, when it was demolished in 2015, few mourned its passing – if indeed they even noticed. But, in its brutalist abandonment, it was a reminder of a regrettable chapter in the city’s history, and, when I passed by one day and found it gone, I felt a link with Bristol’s past had been severed.
Such severings are not always accomplished so painlessly. Back in 2008, I created a sculpture trail, including what I described as the city’s ‘most contentious statue’. It had been repeatedly defaced, and there had been many calls for its removal, but the statue of Colston would remain on its plinth for a further 12 years. Its unceremonious toppling may well count as the most momentous thing to have happened in Bristol for decades. The city is still dealing with its aftermath and is likely to do so for years to come. There will be many other changes as well – some predictable, some anything but –along with many opportunities, and, of course, with The Bristol Magazine on hand to chronicle and celebrate life in one of Europe’s most vibrant cities. ■
This page: the former pro cathedral in 2005; Troopers Hill tower
First page (clockwise from top left): multi-coloured terraces at Redcliffe; St Werburghs in bloom; the Edward Colston statue which remained standing for 12 years after calls for its removal; one of the city’s lesser-known beauty spots, Troopers Hill; The Paragon above the Avon Gorge; a train on the Severn Beach Line in 2014; (centre) the mosaic at Royate Hill, saved from developers by local residents; more vibrant terraces at Cliftonwood
