The old Bristol of radical politics, Rastafarian culture, 60s concrete beside Tudor beams still lurks beneath the fresh paint What’s going for it? The multicoloured terraces of Hotwells, as lurid as M&M’s, cling to the hillside like a hipster favela. They have become a symbol of the city, reproduced on promotional material and Instagram accounts celebrating nu-look Bristol. I hadn’t been to the city for a couple of years and, yes, maybe it’s time to believe the hype. Bristol has an energy I’ve never seen in the place before, alive with creativity, waistbands bursting with its proliferating food and drink scene. Mercifully, it has yet to fall in love with itself, the old Bristol of radical politics, Rastafarian culture, rusting boats or 60s concrete beside Tudor beams still lurking beneath the fresh paint. In enchanting Hotwells, which in a 17th-century form of urban regeneration was once a spa to rival Bath, you’ll still find community playgrounds, quiet, crumbling lanes tumbling down the slope, proper boozers and snatches of weedy space un-built-upon-by-property-developers. Long may it last (but, miseryguts, I doubt it will).The case against I hope you have good brakes/a good clutch and are deft at reversing backwards up a hill and round corners; narrow lanes and ratruns. Hotwell Road is busier than the M5. Continue reading…
Source : theguardian.com
Read more…Let’s move to Hotwells, Bristol – ‘It’s enchanting’
