The Royal Hotel Portishead

A Severn Passage

They are sitting on the newly refurbished terrace of the Royal Hotel on the headland at Portishead. The man is colourfully dressed with wild free-flowing long grey hair and a short trimmed beard. The lady, petite in build with a neatly cut bob, sits reading a brochure she has collected from the bar. They both would be retired one would surmise from their general demeanour, although it is difficult to judge their age from a casual glance. On the table between them there are two glasses. One, almost full, is clearly white wine. The other, half empty, is probably some form of Lager judging by the colour and the fancy shaped glass. It is early autumn; the winds are now turning chill as we approach the end of the day. The man wraps his coat tighter around himself and shuffles in his chair. The lady looks up from her reading.

“It says here that this hotel has a connection to Isambard Kingdom Brunel”

The man, who was just finishing his drink, stops and looks across up to the Hotel with its dressed stone façade decorated with arched toped windows under rectilinear carved drip mouldings divided with simple central stone mullions.

“Looks mid-19th century I’d say at first glance, maybe 1830’s?” he turns back and continues “so, yes, the time frame fits.” 

She nods. “We really should research this more when we get back home”

“Certainly. I fancy another pint do you want anything” he asks getting up.

“Crisps maybe” she smiles

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“I’ve been looking at back issues of the Bristol Post” she catches his eye and continues laying the table for their tea. “They did an article on the refurbishment of the Royal in July”

“Was it any good?”

“Not much on the History or it’s heritage. Bit of a PR job really for the new owners! But you were right, it says it was built in 1830”

As an aside, He trained as an architect and he was usually pretty good at correctly placing a buildings age. So she wasn’t surprised at all and she continued 

“There was an interesting comment below the article from someone calling himself ‘Stutooth’ ” she laughed   “How do people give themselves those names! Anyway, it said …”

she looked down to quote it properly

“Look forward to going back there. I cycled all the way out along the river Avon years ago and found it and the tiny little beach connected to it. A lovely place to go for food I hope it still is. it looks like they've done a fantastic refit”

She sat down at the table and began eating her tea. The man, who was still chuckling to himself at the idea of someone identifying themselves as ‘Stu Tooth’ and wondering what childhood trauma might have occurred in their dental history. Maybe a cycling accident years ago beside the river Avon knocked a tooth out he thought? However that thought soon passed and he ventured a comment

“That tiny little beach must have been the one we climbed up from when we walked round on the rocks from the lifeboat station by the old pier. Just after we found that Heart Shape worn in the rocks by the sea. I reckon it must have been connected to the Hotel in it’s heyday, don’t you think?”

She nodded “ Yep, you could see the remains of dressed stone walls and some quite grand steps. And you pointed out that there was an old slipway going down into the water. So maybe visitors to the hotel would come in by boat - using the slipway if the tides were low?”

“we need to look into this further” he smiled at her “that was a really lovely walk at Portishead, great memories. And there’s a story here I’m sure”.

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And so it indeed turned out. And the more they researched into the history the more those images formed in their minds of past times when the Ladies from the Liners would disembark to the Royal Hotel and dine in all their finery.

And the connection with Brunel too unveiled itself to them. His dream of connecting the Royal Hotel by rail to his fantastic Temple Meads Station on the Great Western Railway to London and the construction of a floating pier at Portishead so that those great liners – such as his own SS Great Britain now restored and moored in Bristol Docks – could berth on the Bristol Channell rather than use Liverpool as their home port. 

Those connections with history are very much a part of fully appreciating and understanding our landscape, our natural world and our heritage. They may be from a long forgotten age.

They may be from a passage lost in time. But they must not be forgotten.

The Royal Hotel

published by John