By John C. Dyer, UK correspondent
Over a million and a half people call greater Bristol home. First chartered in 1155 AD, its busy port sent explorers and migrants all over the globe. 34 cities across the globe bear its name. (Photos left and right by JC Dyer, summer 2011)
Bristol is the seat of one of the UK’s major universities, the University of Bristol, (Photos right Bristol Student Union and Bristol U Art Department by John C Dyer, summer 2011) a rival to its esteemed colleagues, Oxford and Cambridge.
Bristol is a survivor, reborn as a modern city from the rubble of the Battle of Britain. After over 850 years rich in history, Bristol remains vital. It is figured to be among the five cities in the UK best positioned to re-emerge strong and vibrant from the current recession.
Yet an ancient spirit still weaves through its hilly streets. (Photo left: "An Old Spirit" by JC Dyer, summer 2011)
Bristol’s special meaning
Bristol has meaning for both my partner and I. For her, it was her first professional and family home, the birthplace of her daughter. For me, it is the scene of Dyer dramas both ancient and modern. Victoria guided me among her favourite haunts.
Queen Victoria still presides over Bristol Cathedral (Photo right by JC Dyer summer 2011). The Cathedral exterior is young relative to Wells, Exeter and Salisbury (Photo left by JC Dyer, summer 2011), but its Chapter House (meeting room) is 
Norman. (Photos left by JC Dyer summer 2011)
.
The Cathedral’s windows and interior are new, the originals casualties of the Blitz, but detailed in the magnificent old tradition. (Photos left and above by JC Dyer, summer 2011) 
Its cloisters have an ancient feel. (Photo left by JC Dyer, summer 2011)
The dark stone Cathedral shelters a unique garden graveyard (Photo center left by JC Dyer, summer 2011), which like many English graveyards is oddly inviting. So inviting, in fact, a picnic area nestles among the graves (Photo far right by JC Dyer, summer 2011).
We were hungry, so we gave the area a once over. But we soon left. Victoria knew the man buried most immediately next to the picnic grounds. We hiked up a hill to the Cafe Rouge. Victoria knew a cafe not far from the Cathedral which she prefered to show me. (Photo left by JC Dyer, summer 2011).
Lunch was lovely.
Tummies satisfied, it was on to the Bristol City Museum. A WWI vintage airplane dominates the entrance (Photos right by JC Dyer, summer 2011). 
The museum holds a vast array of treasures, sculptures (Photos left by JC Dyer, summer 2011) and mummy cases among my favourites. Even more favourite than my usual beloved Impressionists and dinosaur bones.
After over an hour of wandering the Museum, it was time for afternoon tea. We beat it to one of those many side streets that so feature in a British town, the ones that make a village out of a city. My partner knew of a little cafe with excellent tea and cakes, the Primrose Cafe (Photo left above by John C Dyer, summer 2011). We enjoyed a pot of tea each, cake, and the intriguing surroundings (Photo right above by John C Dyer, summer 2011).
Rested, it was time to climb another of Bristol’s steep hills. It is a toss up which city has more - San Francisco, Plymouth, or Bristol.
The Avon
Victoria led me up the hill for a breathtaking view of the Avon River (Photo left by John C Dyer, summer 2011) and the city. The Avon River winds through Bristol. Before us lay the Clifton Suspension Bridge (Photos center left and right by John C Dyer, summer 2011). 
Behind us, rows of flats and town homes hugged the cliff face .
From Clifton Suspension Bridge, extending high above the Avon River Gorge, the views of Bristol are spectacular. Look the other direction, and there is only wilderness to be seen. (Photos left and right by JC Dyer, Somerset 2011).
As dark clouds gathered, we made our way to the docks to take a ferry boat ride on the Avon. Colourful, painted town houses rose behind dockside flats as we set out. The SS Great Britain, a steam and sail powered ship, thrust herself against the sky. (Photos left above by JC Dyer, summer 2011).
Up from the SS Great Britain a brace of modern luxury flats caught my attention. “Oh yeah,” I drooled. The Channel reaches right into the heart of the downtown. As we drew near, it became clear that Bristol remains a busy port. The port lies between the dockside flats and the downtown itself (Photos left and right above by John C Dyer, summer 2011.)
“Christmas Steps”
As we disembarked, I learned that my partner had one last treat she had been saving. It was a tiny alley named “Christmas Steps.” (Photo right by John C Dyer, summer 2011) Somehow spared in the Blitz, its higgly-piggly roof line somehow reminds me of Harry Potter and Conan Doyle all at the same time (Photo left by John C Dyer summer 2011,).
What shocked me were the AK-47s in full sight, offered for sale. There were right next to the replica flintlocks, so they may have been replicas. But replicas can quickly be modified. I
The shadowed arms of Bath's evening chased its workers home as we returned. The street vendors were all closingtook our evening Tea at Wagamma. We talked excitedly about our Somerset adventures and our next trip, until the day caught up with us. The big decision, whether to visit Cheshire before or after my family in the States, would have to wait. (PHotos above by John C Dyer, summer 2011).
As I crawled into bed I felt that warm, post Electric Parade glow. You know, the-I-have-been-having-a-ball-at-Disneyland-all-day feeling. I have no doubt I will return to Somerset, again and again.
This is the third in a series of travel posts on Somerset summer 2011 by John C. Dyer. The others are:
In Search of Memories of Somerset, Part I Wells and Glastonbury
Somerset Trip, Day 2 Bath