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A very few stalwart group members supported the first weekend in 2007. This time of year the weather can be cold and frosty, wet and windy with snow flurries, grey skies overhead, and early darkness. Bearing this in mind the January weekend is usually a city break. This year Bristol YH was the destination.

Four set out from Leicester at 9.0 a.m. on Saturday morning. Before mid day we had stowed away our bags at the hostel and settled our dues. Whilst waiting for Chris to move his car. The Shakespeare Pub at no. 1 Henry Street at the back of the Hostel opened its doors. It was midday. The writer spoke to the barman about the beer range, and promised to visit. The parking meters were bunged up from the previous night according to the man who was emptying and making the necessary repairs. It was raining but just gentle rain. There was no free parking though. Unlike at Portree on Skye in May 2006 where a similar parking meter problem had resulted in just that for the writer. But it was pouring with rain and blowing a gale at that time.

The hostel had street maps of the area so we all agreed to use the maps to navigate to visit the Tourist Information desk a journey of less than half a mile. We got there safely.

The Three Musketeers was being performed that evening at Bristol Old Vic. Now this theatre is one that survived the bombing of the city during the last war. It is the only theatre in Britain to have had performances continually since it was built in the seventeenth century. We bought four tickets with four credit cards. This did not faze the sales person. She suggested that we visit the nearby market, just around the corner. This might be so if you are a resident. The corner having been turned, and Chris had gone to fetch his camera; we three hadn’t got a clue where to go. There were two fire engines and crews attending a to fire alarm but no apparent fire nor smoke so I asked the way of a fire and rescue man. He asked his colleague and both agreed it was beside the church we could see. Perhaps the drivers of the fire tenders use SatNav these days and not local knowledge. However the Saturday covered market was situated behind the Old Fishmarket pub and its notices stated food served all day. We spent time at the organic beer stall sampling the freebies before traipsing around the stalls in a covered market just looking at display of goods, whilst waiting for Chris to catch up which he did. At my suggestion we should try the Old Fishmarket pub for food. We ordered the beer, Dave and I did, and Chris had eaten and did not wish for more and went. Margaret wanted a coffee but it was Saturday and not available. She then went to catch Chris promising to return. The first pint was very delectable and as Margaret had not returned a second pint was consumed. No food was being served as the chef had been given day off. The writer had failed in his quest for food, which he has found, is needed in regular four hourly intervals to sustain life. However a sandwich stall was used it the market for sustenance before Dave and I set out to see the Brunel Exhibition in the Museum adjacent to Temple Meads railway station. City breaks tend to be “do your own thing” occasions and this one was no exception. When in a strange city public loos are not easy to find but public houses provide this type of convenience so another pint was bought as a means of keeping another landlord happy. We got to the museum, and separated. Strangely I cannot recall what the exhibition was about but it might have something to do with Mr Isambard Kingdom Brunel’s career and achievements. We had promised to meet back the Hostel at 5.00p.m. I recall I was last back as I had to inspect the premises at the railway station and also needed a quick visit the Fleece back street pub. Such detours delay ones progress.

It was a warm day for the time of year, but a chill had set in during the evening. We ate a meal opposite the theatre, drew lots for our seats, as we had two sets of two seats and went across the road to the Old Vic for the performance.

It was a family show and children were present but this did not detract from a lively sword clashing performance throughout. It was a pleasure to see such in these historic surroundings.”One for all!” was the shout throughout. “And All for One” the reply.

After the show Dave joined me for another pint at the pub across the road where before entering I enquired of the doorman whether there was a quiet room, he answered in the affirmative by gesturing the next door through which we entered. Karaoke was going on to the usual drunken solo off-key renditions of popular songs. Followed by noisy applause as encouragement to continue. We drank our pints in the quieter room. Afterwards we meandered back to our beds at the hostel concentrating with some difficulty on the route. We met up with Chris at the hostel door having been out taking night shots on his camera.

Dawn broke brilliantly, too brilliantly when Chris who was first out of bed into pitch darkness, let the window blinds up to reveal a bright cloudless azure blue sky. This action caused me to pull the covers over my head to avoid the brightness. I was last up. Breakfast over and bags packed we had decided over breakfast to walk back to the city from a few miles out. We caught the first bus of the day at 10.40 a.m. not that early but usual on Sunday mornings and relied on Chris to get us off at the right stop. He was carrying the map. We were not aware until we walked past the bus stop we should have alighted at that the walk had been extended by half a large roundabout. Elevenses were taken at the appropriate time at Ashton Court. Not really in the Grand House but in the yard next to the converted stable block. The views over Bristol were admired from this National trust property. Further on the famous Suspension Bridge was reached. Before crossing it was essential to visit the visitor centre and read about the problems over fundraising, construction and erosion problems caused by the horses. More modern problems of erosion were caused by the rock salt put down on icy days during winter. The bridge is constructed from recycling the chains from the old Hammersmith Bridge across the Thames. The toll has been recently increased to 50p per vehicle. It had been twenty pence.

We visited another viewpoint above a place where children use an inclined rock face for a slide and wondered about the numbers of small pairs of trousers over the past century all of which had helped to polish the surface to a sunlit sheen. We gazed at the surrounding views from the top of Observatory Hill beside the Camera Obscura.

A roast lunch was partaken at the Royal Oak with another beer. Our wanderings took us through Bristol past some university accommodation, and down steep constitution hill. The Cabot Tower was high above. At the end of Jacob’s Well Road we could see the SS Great Britain. We did not visit the “Bag o’Nails”, a small gas lit terraced unspoilt pub, but used the money saved to cross the water. 50p was the cost of the ferry across the floating harbour to land at the pontoon beside Brunel’s ship. A steady walk alongside the Bristol Harbour Railway, a preserved railway past the Industrial Museum took us to the Prince Street Bridge near the car park. It did not take long to get back to Leicester. A very enjoyable weekend enjoyed by three musketeers and Margaret.