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Barnes back in Bristol

2 November 2015 by Simon Barnes 19 Comments

Loon trousers had prodigious flares but very little room around the crotch. Neither characteristic made them ideal for a wildlifing expedition. The floor-sweeping velvet skirt of my companion was no better, but that night we rose above all impediments. The time was two hour past midnight, the place Ashton Court, just the far side of Clifton Suspension Bridge, the trousers pale lilac, the skirt black, the year 1973.

True, Ashton Court wasn’t open for business at that time of night, but that was kind of the point. Despite the handicaps of our clothing we shinned over the wall and walked hand-in-hand through the moon-shadows cast by the patrician trees of the park. We had the wild world to ourselves now.

I was born in this city, and educated there too, in many disciplines, one or two of them actually on the curriculum of University of Bristol. I lived in Clifton, on the first floor of 27 West Mall, a noble building in which I searched for truths noble and ignoble, both real and illusory.

On that blessed night we walked away from the gracious buildings of Bristol 8 into the still more gracious park, searching for wilder and perhaps truer things than could be found in the elegant squares and crescents. It was June, that month when everything seems possible.

We walked for some time and then stopped. We had too. Something lay ahead. Something serious. We were aware that there were living things before us. I couldn’t exactly see them: but I could sense that there were creatures all about us now, large and breathing. We held still, hands clasped. Frightened, yes, but in a calm sort of way. Everything had taken on an air of inevitability. And slowly the shadows grew slightly less, or we grew better able to interpret the clues.

Deer. Perhaps 50 of them, though I wasn’t counting. Gathered together, all in a bunch and by ancient habit, to avoid night-time predation, even though there was none left to do the preying. I could see the pale patches under the tails shining out, and peering, I could make out the shapes of antlers, the curves of the backs, and hear the movements of small hooves in thick grass.

It was a revelation of wonder: as if a door had been opened, allowing us to walk away from the civilised world and back to something deeper and wilder and more marvellous. I wondered why I had spent so long away from wild places, and wished then and there that I could spend the rest of my life in wilder ways than I had done before.

I learned that night that the wild world is closer than you think. You just have to walk towards it a little bit. You may have to climb a wall, often in unsuitable clothing, and always, you have to give yourself over to whatever you happen to find. But it’s there if you want it, for everyone willing to climb the wall.

Good lesson. Important lesson. I had good tutors that night and have never forgotten them.

And I’ve been thinking of that night all over again because I’m going back to Bristol next week and it’s a place that always makes me go a bit funny. I’m doing a speaking gig at Bristol Grammar School next week: November 11, to be precise, at 7.00. I’ll be going on and on about wild subjects, all related to my book Ten Million Aliens. It’s 6.30 for 7, tickets are £7, and you can book through www.bristolgrammarschool.co.uk/events.aspx

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Posted in Wildblog

Comments

  1. reubenftourettes says

    2 November 2015 at 10:10 pm

    Beautifully written. May try to get to the talk if I’m able.

    Reply
    • Simon Barnes says

      3 November 2015 at 7:54 pm

      Thank you, hope to see you there.

      Reply
  2. Pat Leighton says

    3 November 2015 at 7:32 am

    Have I read this piece before, Simon, or is it a matter of deja vu? I am Bristol born and bred incidentally. Good to hear your memories of the swingng seventies, hippy era. Will share with my friends in North Somerset and make every effort to get to your talk. Excited about the new book……

    Reply
    • Simon Barnes says

      3 November 2015 at 7:54 pm

      There was greatly extended piece in ‘My Natural History.’ I never saw myself as part of the Seventies though, it was just that the Sixties didn’t end until 1974. Hope to see you at the talk.

      Reply
  3. George Louis says

    3 November 2015 at 9:33 am

    I love that story Simon, it reminds me of encountering the wonderful flocks of wild Brent Geese that are less than five minutes away from my home, which recharge my batteries… should i walk the right way.

    Reply
    • Simon Barnes says

      3 November 2015 at 7:53 pm

      Later this week i’m off to encounter a few thousand barnacle geese. Such encounters do a fair old job of filling the soul.

      Reply
  4. David Gibson says

    3 November 2015 at 10:30 am

    I too was in Bristol in 1973, living in Caledonia Place opposite West Mall. I was also fond of crossing the Bridge late at night (I had a season ticket) and had similar experiences. I once climbed into the basket that hangs underneath (for maintenance, I suppose) to impress a new girlfriend. Makes me shudder to think of it now. For a while, I taught at Ashton Park school and used to walk from Clifton down the hill, briefcase in hand and binoculars round my neck. Happy days – thanks for reviving the memories, Simon. And thanks too for all the books. For those who haven’t yet read Ten Million Aliens, I heartily recommend it.

    Reply
    • Simon Barnes says

      3 November 2015 at 7:52 pm

      Much respect for that basket story! It was something much discussed but never in my knowledge, attempted. Someone has to do these things.

      Reply
  5. Anthony Bird says

    3 November 2015 at 3:41 pm

    A fantastic experience, Simon, when are you coming to Thetford?

    Reply
    • Simon Barnes says

      3 November 2015 at 7:51 pm

      Good point, high time I went back to Thetford.

      Reply
  6. John Yan says

    4 November 2015 at 4:49 pm

    Mr. Barnes, it is a shame that you left the Times, your column there was a great inspiration for me, a fellow sports and media guy from China. Hope you can re-produce those great stuff. Salute.

    Reply
    • Simon Barnes says

      6 December 2015 at 12:52 pm

      Thanks for kind words John.

      Reply
      • Honey Starr says

        8 December 2015 at 5:25 pm

        Back is back! Yes indeed. I will spend some time looking up some British words that we “Yankees” do not understand.
        Especially someone articulates
        so well.

        Reply
        • Simon Barnes says

          8 December 2015 at 7:05 pm

          Always good to hear from you Honey, I must blog about some more of those fine American birds I saw in Badlands National Park.

          Reply
  7. Pete Dommett says

    5 November 2015 at 7:41 pm

    Hello Simon,

    I reviewed Ten Millions Aliens for BBC Wildlife magazine a few months ago and thoroughly enjoyed it. I’ll definitely be coming along to your talk at BGS next week as I live just a few miles away. Enjoying your blogs by the way. Keep up the good work.

    Reply
    • Simon Barnes says

      6 December 2015 at 12:51 pm

      Thanks for your kind words in the magazine Pete. Did you make it to BGS? It all went pretty well there so I hope you got there.

      Reply
      • Pete Dommett says

        7 December 2015 at 11:09 am

        Yes, I did. It was a thoroughly enjoyable evening, so thank you. Took a friend who is new to your writing and he loved the slug sex (who wouldn’t?)! Best Wishes.

        Reply
        • Simon Barnes says

          8 December 2015 at 7:06 pm

          Glad you came, glad you enjoyed it. Sorry to to have spoken to you. Thanks again for the nice review.

          Reply
          • Pete Dommett says

            8 December 2015 at 7:22 pm

            My pleasure, Simon. It would be lovely to spend an afternoon’s birding with you next time you’re down this way. All the best, Pete

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