When Bristol Froze: Harbour Wonderland

On the last weekend before Christmas, Bristol's historic harbourside around M Shed was lit up in such a way as to capture the hearts and imaginations of adults and children alike and draw us into a world of ice, snow and myth. It was the first "Harbour Wonderland" event to have taken place, and combined light projections, video, sound and even a little snow.

The cranes were illuminated in striking green, a round screen dangling impossible between two of them. Braziers sent fluffy ash into the sky, and as it fell, mingling with the harsh rain and glistening suds of a hidden bubble machine, you could almost be sure that what drifted downwards was snow.

Above the churning sea of umbrella tops fell a projection. The film made was by young people from South Bristol with Knowle West Media Centre and was a charming kaleidoscope of stop motion animation and the imagined story of when Bristol's harbour froze: "The only things that can survive are penguins. They're alright."

Kathy Hinde's origami cranes

Roosting up on the cranes were - cranes! A cloud of origami planes, lit from beneath and looking out over the harbour. These were the work of audio-visual artist Kathy Hinde.

"Snow"

Inside the M Shed cafe, a choir sang carols to families as they learned to craft their own origami cranes and tucked into a mince pie or glass of mulled wine. Outside, the braziers fought to keep the cold at bay and I picked my way between the puddles and amongst the soapy residue of what I wanted to believe was snow. There will always be a little bit of me that wants to believe in a world where the harbour froze and penguins skated where the ferry now makes its rounds.

I'm wishing for snow in the new year.

Bonfire Night

Last week, my flatmates and I decided to host a very last-minute bonfire night get-together. As it fell on a Monday this year, I was off work on the day of the party and took it upon myself to get things together and make it a little bit more special than just a fire at the end of the garden. I come into my element when you label something as an event, and there were a few things I was adamant our guests should be provided (and delighted) with: toffee apples and hot, mulled cider (click-through for recipes); marshmallows on sticks; baked bananas oozing the darkest, richest chocolate; and sparklers.

The pumpkin lantern and fireside snacks.

Of course, if I'm going to have guests I'm going to spruce the place up a little. The fire was at the end of our rather long garden, so I studded the path with tealights in glass jars to light the way, finishing with a pair of lights in the archway through to the bonfire, where a pumpkin flickered next to dishes of sweet treats. We banked the fire up, watched it fizzle, roar into life and then die right down again all before our guests arrived. Luckily we coaxed a bit more life out of it and soon the air was filled by the snaps and warmth of a good bonfire, and the chatter of friends. I ladled out the hot, fragrant cider and someone came clutching a bag of corn for popping, so we covered it in a pan nestled in the brightly burning embers.

Poaching a view of someone else's fireworks.

Fireworks lit up the sky, mainly courtesy of our neighbours or a local display, we didn't know which. A guest also arrived with a small box which, when let off, fizzed upwards into the night as we gazed upwards. I doled out the sparklers and we did the usual: circles, lovehearts and furious attempts to write our names so that the letters all hung in the air at once.

"Kitt" - just one letter shy of managing to write my name with a sparkler.

The big, organised displays can be impressive but this girl is a convert: a back-garden get-together with hot booze and idle chat can be even better.

BIOSKOP: the drifting cinema settles for an evening of film

From the Cube Cinema listings

On Sunday evening, I had a feeling that Bristol would be alive with a thousand dancing feet, shared drinks and raucous screeches, but a night on the tiles wasn't really what I had in mind for my bank holiday eve. By chance, I happened upon a tweet by the Cube Cinema, announcing that their drifting cinema, the Bioskop, would be putting down its roots for the night in Riverside Park, an area I'd been warned was a little on the shadier side. On their blog, the Bioskop admit that they chose the location for this screening with this in mind:  at night, it "isn't somewhere you feel comfortable hanging around in, it's somewhere you pass through to get somewhere else."

As it would happen, this was an apt setting for a screening of Agnes Varda's "Vagabond" (1985). Not for those who begrudge a subtitled film, Vagabond paints a picture of Mona, a young, homeless woman on the road through the French winter, from only the glimpses strangers have had into the last few weeks of her life.
Personally, I love French films (if they're good!) because I'm somewhat of a Francophile and enjoy picking up snippets that are lost in translation with the French that I know (I studied it to A level so I'm far from bilingual but I try to keep it up with the odd French magazine or holiday).

The Bioskop is a wonderful project and was a lovely way to spend an evening: my friend and I huddled on a blanket beneath the trees with the other viewers, clutching plastic cups and shop-bought snacks. Most people arrived for about 7.30pm and then we sat and chattered until the sun set and it was dark enough to clearly see the film projected on a tightly-stretched sheet in the trees.

Vagabond (1985)

The Bioskop is a free event and is kept under close wraps until the very last minute! Keep up to date by checking back here from time to time, or follow @cubecinema on Twitter.

A bientôt!