In the great, albeit painfully hilly city of Bristol again today to see an eminent Professor of Orthopaedics for a full MOT of my old bones. Not sure if my forehead gets stamped with FAILED if I’m unable to balance on one leg whilst standing on my tiptoes…a favourite torture technique of the physioterrorpists.
Before that fun begins I arrived early and stood in the foreboding shadows of the city Cathedral, walking to stretch my legs after the fun of negotiating the infamous Bristol traffic. Students, skateboarders and lunch break office escapees littered the surrounding park, which is where I found this image of a tree decked in lost footwear. A post-pub student prank and tradition or poetic commentary on the lost souls of Bristol, as seen around the world to pay homage to missing children or slain innocents of murderous neighbourhoods?