A couple of weeks ago I set off on a mission to visit Bristol's newest shopping centre - Cabot Circus.
To get there, I followed the course of the river Frome - one of Bristol's oldest rivers.
In fact, there's only two - the Frome and the Avon and it's at their confluence that someone built a castle and that's why Bristol is where it is.
Frome means "fast running" in Anglo-Saxon and at one time the river used to provide power to at least five mills along its course. At Baptist Mills (now Junction 3 of the M32) Abraham Darby set up a brass mill using the power of the river. He eventually moved to Ironbridge, Staffs and was a key figure in starting the industrial revolution.
While our ancestors saw the river as a source of free energy, we see it as a nuisance and have covered it in concrete with a motorway. Along its margins is an urban wasteland. Not very attractive, but a good place for putting up posters like those shown.
This advertises bands such as Skiplicker and Filthy Habits ( a NunPunk band?). There used to be a band in Bristol called Maggotslayer, which I think is the best band name I've heard.
Witty graffiti. In case you don't know, these are the two robots out of Star Wars.
The river Frome makes a brief appearance. Giant Hogweed grows here. Boys use the stems as blowpipes and then die when the sap makes their throats swell up. Kingfishers have also been seen here, as have crack dealers.
At last! The inspiring sight of Cabot Circus itself.
I went through the car park. Lots of pretty lights.
They still seem to be working on it.
Good views from the roof. This is St Judes, a very poor area five minutes
walk from a shop selling T shirts for £150.
The parking bays are pretty.
A Bounty bar costs 70p!!!
Here's the shopping centre itself. I wanted to take some interesting photos, but
the whole place is just too dull.
They say that Cabot Circus isn't a shopping centre but a "retail destination". They've created shopping streets in the area around it, but they're not streets in the sense that you and I understand the term. You can't ride a bike or walk a dog in them; you certainly can't busk or preach or beg or sell the Big Issue. They've (reluctantly?) left the Quaker Meeting house there.
A couple of weeks ago the Quakers organised a meeting between the Cabot Circus bosses and the local residents to discuss the impact of the centre on people living nearby. One of the Quakers stood outside the hall giving out leaflets advertising the event. Or at least he did until the security guards confiscated them.
So there you are, a little totalitarian state right in the heart of Bristol.
One little tip I learnt there: if you get lost, put your ear to the ground and listen carefully for a few minutes - security will soon come and escort you out of the complex.
