Bristol Lido

Gerry Brooke talks to Arne Ringer, the proud owner of the newly opened Bristol Lido

I’VE always had a soft spot for the old lido tucked away in Clifton’s Oakfield Place – the only open-air pool left in the city – as I regarded it as something of a life-saver during the legendary long, hot summer of 1976.

Even in the cool of the evening, the pavements remained so hot that you could feel the heat coming up through your shoes.

Leaving work in the late afternoon after a stifling day in the office, I would cycle up

to the pool, hand over my 36p and then thankfully cool off for a couple of hours until it closed at 7pm.

It was bliss.

One very hot week in July of that year the lido had an attendance of some 6,000. It must have been a record.

And Summer Sundays were always very popular, especially with families.

But throughout the Eighties the pool – first opened as a private lido in 1850 and then taken over by Bristol council in 1897 – was starved of funds.

In 1990, after it had sprung a bad leak, the pool was drained and the building closed up

for good.

It looked like the end for what was regarded by many as one of the oldest, and finest, pools in the country.

But after a rollercoaster 18 years, Arne Ringer, the local entrepreneur behind the Glass Boat and Spyglass restaurants on Welsh Back, has reopened the attraction.

It hasn’t been easy and it hasn’t been cheap – in fact it has cost Ringer a cool £2.5 million to bring his dream to completion.

Now, in addition to the heated pool – it utilises solar panels – there is a sun lounge, bar, restaurant, tea room, spa and treatment rooms.

“There’s still a bit to do,” he told me proudly, as builders and other workers scurried about clearing up and making some finishing touches.

“But we are open, that’s the main thing. After two years of hard work this is a very special day for me.

“Two architects told me that it was impossible, that it couldn’t be done. The buildings and pool, they said, were just too far gone.”

But Arne believed it could, and after gaining full planning permission – by then the 1850 building had been grade II listed – work started two years ago.

“It must have been a nightmare for the people living around here,” he said, “with noisy building work continually going on.

“But they have been very good – very patient.

“Because the building is listed, the English Heritage conservation officers were very keen to see that everything was done as it should be.

“But once they were happy then they left us to it – we haven’t even seen them during the restoration work.”

Arne is a great believer in conservation and recycling materials, even back to the time when he kitted out his iconic Glass Boat restaurant more than 20 years ago.

The marble worktops on that boat came from St Nicholas fish market, as did the polished walnut and maple floor.

The solid Burma teak doors came from College Green’s Royal Hotel, and other architectural features were derived from Avonmouth flour mills and the old Evening Post offices in Silver Street.

Some of the portholes even come from a cross-Channel ferry.

Arne has repeated the same trick at the lido, which makes for a warm, welcoming ambience, a great mixture of old and new.

“These came from the actual poolside,” he said, showing me some chrome railings leading up to the restaurant.

They looked ideal and as good as new.

“And the lovely oak stairs, which were to be discarded, came from the old Bristol & West building on the Centre.”

The 90-seat restaurant, next to the open kitchen, has a wall of windows overlooking the pool and should prove very popular.

“Many of the floor timbers you can see were rotted at both ends but we cut them to size, and here they are, as good as new.

“The historic, gaily curtained changing rooms have been kept, but every alternate cubicle is now a shower and we have kept the south-facing sunbathing area from the old pool and added a modern hot tub.

“Everything is much as it was, but adapted for 21st- century living.”

So, was he pleased with the outcome?

“This has been a challenging and fascinating project for me,” said softly spoken Arne, “a real labour of love.

“It gave me a rare opportunity to turn a historic, listed building in the centre of a city into something unique and relevant to people today.”

I asked him why the pool – it’s only a stone’s throw from busy Whiteladies Road – had changed its name from the Clifton Lido to the Bristol Lido.

Was this to broaden its appeal?

“We have a vision of the lido being very accessible,” explained Arne, “a social hub for both local people as well as a destination for people from further afield who might be curious to see how a 19th-century lido can be adapted to modern life. It isn’t just for Clifton people.”

However, there is a membership scheme for swimming (£300 to £450 per adult) but anyone can use the bar or restaurant, or spa treatment (from £50).

People can also drop in for a swim weekday afternoons between 1pm and 4pm (£15 adults, £7.50 children).

The pool – heated to 35°C – is open for members from 7am to 10pm.

With recession looming this doesn’t seem the right time for a venture of this nature, but

lido manager Mark Thwaites is confident.

In fact, he says that more than half the membership subscriptions of 1,000 have already been taken up.

“We want to make it as accessible as we can to the public – they will be able to come swimming in our 24-metre pool on weekday afternoons.

“The same goes for the spa – we aim to strip away all the pretentiousness of the modern spa culture and offer a genuine and value for money package.”

Arne is now appealing for people to come forward and help fill in the gaps in the pool’s long history.

“I hear lots of stories from people who used to swim here and there are many happy memories of people courting and even getting engaged here,” he says.

“Now we’d like to start collecting stories and pictures to build up a picture of the missing years.

“The pool – about to start a new chapter in its long life – had a hugely important social role, and it’s that history that we would like to uncover.

“This place means a lot to people and we hope that this connection will continue for many generations to come.”

The social history of the lido will be presented on the pool website (www.lidobristol.com) with a chance that, at a later date, it will be turned into a special exhibition.

If you have any stories, then please send them, by email, to ali@cspr.uk.com, or by post to CSPR, 83 Kingsdown Parade, Bristol, BS6 5JU.

Bristol Lido history

IN VICTORIAN times, as changes in legislation enabled local authorities to provide municipal baths for the less well off, many subscription baths – a legacy of the old spas such as the Hotwell – were opened.

Bristol’s lido – a grade II-listed building which reflects Egyptian influences – was designed by local architect Richard Shackleton Pope in 1849.

The Bristol Mirror commented at the time: “We understand that a very elegant structure will be erected, thus combining the useful and ornamental.”

As well as “spacious plunging and swimming baths” there was to be “a medicated bath for the use of invalids”.

The cost, which included two towels, was one shilling (5p). After 4pm (with just one towel on offer) it cost four pence, with children (under 14) getting in for half-price.

In 1880, the pool was bought by Clifton Swimming Baths Ltd for £2,200. Then, in 1897, after that company had gone bust, it was bought by Bristol Corporation for £3,025.

Chilcott’s 1909 Guide to Bristol said: “The establishment is admirably conducted with the baths being supplied by the Bristol Waterworks Company.

The swimming bath is capacious.”

In the Thirties – the peak years for healthy outdoor activities – Clifton Lido became the first electrically heated pool in the whole country.

Throughout the Seventies and Eighties, the pool – seen by the city’s leisure committee as a something of an embarrassment – was starved of funds.

People would arrive for a dip only to find it closed, even on a warm summer’s day.

Then, in 1990, after it had sprung a bad leak, the pool was drained and the building closed for good.

Swimmers, it was said, were being subsidised to the tune of £10 each.

Councillor Graham Robertson, then chairman of the leisure committee, said: “We would have saved the lido if there had been a will to do so.

“Open pools are not the thing. The cost of keeping the lido was prohibitive.”

The council then said that it couldn’t afford the repair bill, estimated at £250,000, and two years later put the place up for sale, with one possible use being as an indoor leisure centre.

But nothing came of this and 10 years ago the derelict building was sold to the Sovereign Housing Association for £81,500 to provide six flats and three townhouses.

But work was halted after a few months when the Department of Culture – alerted to the situation by local campaigners – stepped in and gave the lido a grade II listing.

This meant that any conversion couldn’t go ahead without listed building consent, and councillors on the planning committee refused to give it.

But they did set up a working party in the hope of finding a way forward.

Interestingly, it was estimated by outside valuers that the site was now worth £300,000.

A group calling themselves The Clifton Victoria Baths Management Company were preparing to make a bid for the pool should Sovereign’s plans be thrown out.

They told the Post that £1.5 million would be sufficient to restore the lido to its former glory and enough to build a new gym and health centre on the site.

An alternative scheme put forward by Dorothy Brown’s Bristol Visual and Environmental Buildings Trust, was to build six flats on the site to help fund the running of the pool.

Her trust offered to buy the site from Sovereign for an extra £50,000.

Eventually, the housing association withdrew its planning application.

Now, thanks to the vision of Arne Ringer, the whole sorry episode has had a happy ending.

As similar pools around the country have become derelict and been demolished, the Clifton Lido – now renamed the Bristol Lido – remains one of the oldest heated outdoor pools left in the country.

It’s also, according to the experts, one of the finest.