The harbourside developments keep springing up, stale to the eye even before the marketing suites have been dismantled. The shoddy, lovely old Industrial Museum is being swanked up to converge with the emergent interconnective audience demands of the forthcoming century. Further and further the memory of this body of water’s purpose slips away from the collective consciousness. Its ascent from seediness frees it from the albatross of identity, of function – the water approaches liminality, a half-seen feature to offset the shiny glass in the apartment blocks.
That is, until you get down to where it’s all held together. Down by the creaky, leaky sluice gates lies an acre or so of gloriously unbidden space. There are wires, levers, rusty old anchors, forgotten huts – not the kind of stuff generally left in reach of the general public’s untutored hand. Just over down by there you have a working shipyard – glorious curls of oak sit there, waiting to be lacquered, shaped, riveted, made seaworthy. The seagulls’cries gather weight, a nostalgic pull… you feel a lift in your spirits, the sense of port-side adventure growing in the gullet.
All of which frames the context for a visit to the Nova Scotia, a pub to turn to when you feel life leeching from your pores. It’s a two-roomed galley – I think they may have rooms upstairs, though I shudder to think -where past rowdiness lies lambent in the carpeting . A few bay tables in which to hold fort (if you dare). Unabashed, querying eye contact from the regulars. A helpful, disengaged youngster to pull your pint. Not really looking, not really caring letting you get on with it. Outside, there by the water, they have a few trellis tables full of bikers, hairies, workers. And most everyone’s on the orange stuff, you know, that one. Cheddar Valley. Fizzy pop of doom. Before not too long, the unwary will be inviegled into a small bit of free-wheeling, enigmatic pubchat. The pub pokes you, wants to get to know your game. It doesn’t stand there, demanding approval . It is a Blessed Relief from all that bland egoism upstream.