The thing I love about Bristol is that it is a city of wild contrasts. This is the place that birthed Banksy, that invented its own version of hip-hop because the original wasn’t chill enough, and whose inhabitants decided one morning that a statue of slave trader Edward Colston would be better positioned at the bottom of the river Avon. But this is also the city of Clifton Village, an impossibly quaint enclave of Georgian houses, boutiques and wine bars; it is the city that houses the Old Vic, the Arnofini and the The Royal West Of England Academy, some of the finest arts venues in England – and it’s all walkable. Bristol is, in short, the perfect place for a chaotic weekend getaway. And I know a nice place to stay.
THE BACKGROUND: The Bristol Hotel sits on the east side of St. Augustine’s Reach, the harbour channel that leads in toward the city centre. It’s just a few doors up from the aforementioned Arnolfini with its diverse art exhibitions, decent canteen and brilliant book store. It inhabits a towering 1960s building which was originally a motel, hence its attachment to a similarly grey-clad multi storey car park, but has been discretely renovated by The Doyle Collection, a chain of luxury boutique hotels. The chunky facade may not be to everyone’s taste, but as a fan of brutalist architecture, I’m glad the company hasn’t tried to disguise or dismantle this building’s ugly beauty – in fact, it is listed, alongside a lot of the city’s concrete masterpieces.
It was also a relief to find that the 1960s aesthetic of the exterior has been carefully reflected inside the building. Beyond the small reception, there’s a hotel lounge with low, modernist furniture, black marble-effect coffee tables and subtle fixtures and fittings. If you squint you can pretend to be in an episode of Mad Men, although the clientele is much more casual, sitting about in bobble hats and big coats, giving the place the air of a pleasant airport lounge.
THE ROOM: Like the downstairs interiors, our room was modestly styled in an approximation of mid-20th century modernism, with plain white walls, huge windows and two beautiful Scandinavian-style swivel armchairs in bold orange, arranged around a circular glass table, like something out of a spy thriller or soft-focus erotic photoshoot. The bed was vast and ludicrously comfortable and opposite there was a wall-mounted LED television the size of a tennis court. The only let down was the teeny bathroom with unglamorous toiletries and a just about okay shower.
THE FOOD: We ate at Rick’s, the hotel’s harbourside bar, inspired by the movie Casablanca, hence the name and, I guess, the abundance of wicker furniture. There’s an innovative signature cocktail list, and a varied menu of small plates – I was expecting North African cuisine given the theme, but instead it’s a mix of hearty European fare, including a truly delicious baked somerset camembert, local oysters and excellent toasted focaccia.
Bristol retains its fiercely individualistic spirit. The clubbing scene lives on, from the famous DJ-magnet Motion to the good ship Thekla, the legendary floating indie venue
The Korean chicken was a strange segue for the menu, but deliciously sweet and spicy nonetheless. The next morning we had the breakfast buffet in the River Grill restaurant, again overlooking the harbour – an excellent assortment of English breakfast staples with plenty of veggie options.
THE AREA: The Bristol is brilliantly placed for those who want to explore the city. Particularly close by is Wapping Wharf, where you’ll find the wonderful M-Shed museum of Bristol’s history, the SS Great Britain and a decent shipping container megaplex housing dozens of takeaways, of which I’d recommend the vegetarian burger joint VeBurger (amazing loaded friends) and the Japanese restaurant Seven Lucky Gods.
Wapping Wharf is a modestly successful example of the huge amount of regeneration the city has seen over the past decade, not all of it popular with locals. Wander further along the docks and you’ll get to the refurbished Harbourside area, which was once lined with Victorian warehouses, but is now a sterile corporate approximation of a bustling urban hub, dotted with expensive apartment blocks. House prices are rising in culturally diverse, historically working class areas such as St Pauls and Montpelier, while Stokes Croft, once a haven for artists, musicians and activists, is being strangled by luxury property developers. It’s worth seeing those places now, before they get totally Shoreditched.
Rest assured, though, Bristol retains its fiercely individualistic spirit. The clubbing scene lives on, from the famous DJ-magnet Motion to the good ship Thekla, the legendary floating indie venue. Gloucester Road is amazing for independent shops, while Cabot Circus has all the big brand retail stores in one gigantic mall. St Nicholas Market is a jolly browse with its second-hand record and book stalls and if you really don’t want to stray too far, King Street is a delightful pedestrianised thoroughfare of ancient pubs and nice bistros. Plus, believe me, you are never more than 50 feet from an excellent cup of coffee.
Bristol has changed a lot since I lived here, but it remains a city that rewards aimless explorers, a city of weird alleys, murky pubs, astonishing historic buildings and cultural treats of every description. And if you need a base station for that journey, The Bristol is an extremely friendly and comfortable option.
• Keith stayed at The Bristol, a Doyle Collection Hotel. For more information or to book go to the website here