It’s Sunday, March 4th 2023. The airplane lands in Bristol’s international airport around 11am and we immediately search for the bus that will take us to the city center and specifically to Broad Street, where our hotel is located. We don’t notice that the bus stop is just a few meters away and we follow the GPS’s instructions, which make us to – pointlessly- walk for about 10 minutes, instead of one. We get in the bus and we take a seat on the top floor. We feel like being at the cinema: seated, with a “screen” in front of us, ready to watch the displayed movie. On that occasion, the “movie” is a live broadcast of real life: life at Bristol.

A life that seems similar to the Irish reality, with loads of green valleys, horses, sheep, cows and picturesque farm houses. However, after a 30-minute bumpy ride and a few minutes before hopping off the bus, the scenery changes: the view from the window now reminds me of Athens: the city seems a bit dirty, multicultural but certainly, lively with hectic vibes. The serene sounds of nature get replaced by the hustle and bustle of the city. A few stops later, we find ourselves at the heart of Bristol. A destination that had never been in our bucket list, a place that came up as a plan B, only 24 hours ago:

-“Eh, wake up!”

-“……”

-“Eh! Eh! Wake up! It’s almost time.

-“Time for what?”

-Time to travel! We are going to Bristol!

– Wait, what? When? Did you dream about it? 

That’s how the trip to Bristol started for him: like waking up from a dream. A pleasant dream. Have you ever felt that? Dreaming about something, wishing that’s happening for real? Have you ever wished a surprise is waiting for you around the corner? I have. 

-Today! After work! We have 1 hour to pack our backpacks and then we go to Dublin. And tomorrow to Bristol. I have booked everything” I respond, sleepy and all over the moon at the same time.

And that’s how the trip to Bristol began for me: with that well known tiredness after a night of insomnia caused by excitement and with a bit of pride in my spontaneity, which pushed me to cancel and rebook a trip within an hour.

And following that feeling, we are now walking down the streets of this youthful, vibrant city, turning the GPS off and making the decision to play it by ear: to be spontaneous and resilient, to act and then permit to ourselves to go by the flow of our actions. And that’s how we – accidentally – end up in Bristol’s food market, surrounded by hundreds of different smells and tastes, cultures and nationalities. 

The food market in the city center

We have a quick debate about whether to choose Mexican, fish and chips, pork or a beef burger, having as our final choice a combo box, which included a combination of different types of meat and side dishes.

Food: one of the best and well-cooked meals I have ever had.

Location: one of the most decadent places I had lunch at.

Actually, it was just a dirty bench in the middle of a little square, close to the food market. However, that urban little square gifted us a handful of beautiful moments, showing us generously its human side: two little girls on our right, playing with their mum and dad, some teenage boys jumping-on their skateboard- off a decent height, and a number of pigeons eating the leftovers of people’s food, probably bought from the same place as ours.

On a full stomach and having to spend one more hour until the time of our check in, we are now craving a coffee. We decide to follow the opposite direction and we walk by the river Avon, to get an idea of how the other side of Bristol looks like. We only have today and tomorrow to discover the destination that was brought to the table just yesterday.

Limerick was the plan A: a one-night stay somewhere in the center, a bit of wandering around the city, maybe a Day- Spa for relaxation and a nice meal in a traditional, Irish restaurant. However, finding out we had together three consecutive days off made me to cancel the hotel booking in Limerick- luckily on time, before the application of the cancellation policy- and replace all the above expectations with the modern – artistic vibes of Bristol and this carefree feeling of having no plan.

This part of the city consists of various restaurants and coffee shops, which are all full of people- mostly young people I would say. “Alternative” is the style that dominates the clothing options and hairstyles of most of them, giving them all an artistic vibe and an intellectual perspective at the same time. Not to mention the 80’s atmosphere created by the outdoors bazaars, selling vintage and handmade items of any kind.After a delicious coffee and a chai latte at a coffee shop by the river, it’s time to walk all the way back and get to Broad Street to check in.

Buildings by the river Avon

The hotel is amazing: spacious, clean, with bright colors and 100% central. But even if a stay in such a hotel, with all the desired amenities is always a good treat to one’s self, after a year of working for the luxurious side of the hospitality industry, I am having some difficulties relaxing and letting myself get treated as a guest. I can’t help but putting myself in the shoes of others, thinking about all the standard, formal phrases that you have to use as a hotel employee, adjusting your personality to the guest’s needs and desires, forgetting about the word “no” and eventually connecting holidays with working hours. And this feeling of guilt to see ourselves as hotel guests- knowing as well the back of the house aspect of hotels- lead us to refuse the room service provided and self- service ourselves all around the different areas of the hotel instead.

We leave our backpacks at the room, we take a power nap, we freshen ourselves up and we head to explore Bristol by night. Our main target is to wander around the city, feel its vibes, and discover its nooks and crannies. As a guide we have the urgent need to find an overnight- stay pharmacy to get contact lenses solution, which – on a Saturday night- is a quite challenging mission. That’s when the GPS becomes our best friend again, slightly disappointing us, since the first option that it gives us is a 30-minute walk from our current location. More disappointing is the fact that the pharmacy Google maps led us to is currently running out of our requested product. Leaving the hypermarket – pharmacy with empty hands, we are walking towards our second choice, which is 45 minutes on foot from where we are now. And here comes the dilemma: should we give up our “mission” and go for a drink somewhere in the center, or should we keep going? Having in mind that reduced, blurred vision might destroy the quality of our day tomorrow, we decide to carry on. A decision that will bring the notorious Stapleton Street and the area of Easton in our way. Little did we know about the place the overnight pharmacy was located.

Easton is an inner-city area of the city of Bristol. It can be found in the north- east part of Bristol and its population counts around 13.500 habitants. “Easton has gone from having what was branded as Britain’s worst street to being voted one of the coolest neighborhoods in the world”, is the quick answer to the question “Is Easton a good area in Bristol?” on google. However, I can mostly agree to the first part of the sentence. Or at least, that’s the impression that the area gave me by night. Maybe the “cool” part, mentioned in the sentence above can be felt during the morning hours, where the little businesses are open and the multicultural aspect is positively present, adding to the atmosphere a diverse tone. At 10pm, when we visited Easton, it feels like the cultural differences of the habitants of the area create a little battle, leading to fights between gangs and to the existence of drunk vibes and aggressive looks.

A van canteen selling burgers and fast food in the city centre of Bristol

One of these looks is now gazing at us: we are in a mini market somewhere in Easton, desperately looking for contact lenses solution. We know that mini markets usually don’t sell this kind of products, however, we decide to give it a try. There is only one employee working there- probably he is also the owner of the little business- and he is standing behind the counter. We aren’t the first costumers in line: in front of us, there is a man, having a huge cigarette hanging between his lips, trying to pay his beer by card. After a few unsuccessful attempts, he starts stating loudly how proud he feels about his religion and that he has all the documents proving his religious identity. The seller tries to calm him down and when the payment becomes accepted, he kindly asks him to leave the shop. The guy remains there for a few minutes, looking at us, feeling underprivileged and completely indifferent towards what happened at the same time.

We exit the place and we walk the last 10 minutes until our final destination. I take refuge in his arms, receiving that feeling of calmness and protection he always manages to give me. On our way to the pharmacy, we find two electric scooters and we immediately think to rent them to reach our destination quicker and escape from this area as soon as possible. However, we found out that our driving licenses are required to drive them and since we only have one of them with us, we continue our little journey on foot. On our right, girls in short skirts and shorts, on our left, a group of guys smoking, and everywhere around, little shops, especially restaurants with a certain type of cuisine, each one similar and- at the same moment- different to the one next to it.

And between all these little shops, it appears in front of us: the white colors and the green letters, the little packages on the window display, the people in white robes, all these little signs indicate that we have finally arrived. All this walking journey aimed to an insignificant purchase, but important enough to guarantee how tomorrow will look like and to define the quality of our experience. We enter the shop with confidence and we ask about our desired product.

– “Unfortunately, we don’t have it. I am sorry”.

Our day trip to Bath -planned a few hours ago- for tomorrow seems more blurred now. Literally more blurred. Our mission has failed, our late-night drink plan has been destroyed, our perception of Bath will be influenced by our reduced vision and dangerous vibes are being received in the neighborhood of Easton. But that was the plan, wasn’t it? To play it by ear: to be spontaneous and resilient, to act and then permit to ourselves to go by the flow of our actions. And that’s what happened. Less than 24 hours in Bristol seemed like three different days. The food market in the center, the vintage bazars, the area by the port, the nice hotel, the notorious neighborhood of Easton and a pharmacy product guiding us around Bristol by night, they all helped us to perceive the city via its transitions, contrasts and diverse aspects. A trip that was perceived as an unexpected surprise for him and as a proof to dare and let things flow for me. That’s Bristol. Or at least, that’s Bristol for us. Surely for me.

– “What was Bristol for you?” I am asking him now, two and a half months after our trip.

– “A beautiful, British city”, he replies back, while being on the computer.

You see? 2032 words for me, 4 for him. It’s literally a matter of perception.

Fedra Mour