The Day we Visited the Clifton Suspension Bridge

 The highlight of our early morning walk today was the work of ‘Bloody Brilliant Bridge Building Brunel’, as Sophie christened him, during a visit from Wallsy and I, when she lived in London, and which obviously, and unsurprisingly, focused on the prowess of Isambard Kingdom Brunel. 

The Clifton Suspension Bridge in Bristol is truly a magnificent feat of engineering and a sight to behold. It was a short stroll from our apartment and we were able to appreciate it from all angles, including walking across and back. I felt very sad that Brunel didn’t live to see the 30 year construction completed before his death in 1859. The bridge was opened in 1864. 








We found a place for breakfast; one of the few in Clifton Village that opened at 8am, so we could eat and return to move our vehicle before the 9am permit parking deadline. 

Driving over the bridge we left Bristol and Mark then navigated us to the famous Cheddar Gorge. 

Here we visited the information centre and came away equipped with a map to enable us to do the Clifftop walk, part of the Gorge Circular Walk,  and enjoy the spectacular views over Glastonbury Tor, the Somerset Levels, and Bridgwater Bay. 



After the steep hike we had a well-earned lunch in a Cheddar cafe before travelling on. 

Passing through Glastonbury we made a detour to have a look at the Tor, accessible only on foot. As we had already been for a hike today, we chose to do a Tor drive-by instead, and accidentally became caught up with a little old lady, who tried to ‘help’ us when she saw us at the end of her driveway!  

We finally pushed on for Bovey Tracey, and as the remainder of the trip was on the M5, there may have been some heads nodding in the back seat with nothing more to see than relentless traffic whizzing by. 

In Bovey Tracey we found our digs in the Cromwell Arms and settled in. After hearing all the history in Ireland and the destruction wreaked by Oliver Cromwell, we were a little ashamed to be staying in ‘The Arms’ however, when I found Oliver’s portrait had been relegated to the wardrobe, I realised he certainly isn’t revered by the current owners!

  

We ventured out for a wander up and down the main street and then visited our  wonderful friends Tim and Kathy, for a taste of good British hospitality and a delicious home cooked meal, which we all devoured with gusto. 

Much talk and laughter ensued over a glass or two of Sloe Gin, and despite the fact that England was apparently knocked out of the World Cup, by the time we came back to our rooms all was quiet in the pub. 


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