A confession, first. For a travelling sports writer, a complete washout is not always an undesirable thing. Yes, you have to conjure up a 500-odd words report practically out of nothing, but the early wrap-up means there is plenty of chance to explore the city one would otherwise get to see only through the window of a taxi or a bus on tightly packed tours. And if you are in Bristol and have a passing interest in contemporary art, you, in fact, secretly wish for a rain-no-play prospect.

On Monday, therefore, after the first One-day International between India and England was abandoned due to persistent rain at 1:30pm (7 pm IST), I quickly filed the report and rushed to the City Centre, and from there to Park Street. It led me to the imposing Wills Memorial Tower, possibly the most awe-inspiring structure in this south-west England city. But this wasn’t my destination. I was headed straight to the adjacent building, Bristol Museum and Art Gallery, which is dwarfed by the 215-feet high Gothic structure.

Before I reveal my true intent, let me give you a lowdown on the art and culture aspect of this major commercial centre in the United Kingdom. Bristol has a vibrant urban art scene. And often it’s one of the first things that you will notice. Whichever lane or byroad you turn into, there will be some graffiti or mural painted on the wall. From almost miniature art to 10-storey works.

They don’t consider it a nuisance here — not any more at least — they consider it fine art. Art worth collecting and curating. Which is why I head to the gallery to take a first-hand look at one of the recent pieces by a master of this form. The mysterious Banksy’s ‘Mobile Lovers’. A look at this work and you know contemporary art can’t get any more contemporary than this. It strikes an instant chord.

Bristol is to Banksy pretty much what Florence was to Michelangelo. Born here in 1974, the artist, whose true identity remains unknown (at best a matter of speculation), was a product of the Bristol underground scene, and his subsequent blockbuster popularity in turn made it sort of a cult here. Banksy’s work sell for hundreds of thousands of pounds and collectors of his art include Hollywood A-lister Angelina Jolie and pop star Christina Aguilera.

But Banksy doesn’t always paint to make money for himself. He often makes money for others, too. Which brings us back to the ‘Mobile Lovers’. The work, which is valued at 300,000-500,000 pounds, surfaced on a wall on Clement Street earlier this summer. Banksy is said to have made this mural on cardboard to help a struggling youth club he supposedly frequented in his boyhood. There was dispute about the ownership initially, however, the club came up with a letter of support from Banksy himself.

The note by the painting says that the club has kept it in the gallery to protect it from vandalism as they look for the best valuation of the piece. There is a stark irony here. Graffiti, itself considered an act of vandalism, needs to be protected. But then Banksy’s works have suffered such fate here.

Down the road on Park Street, there’s a large, spectacular mural on the side of the building: ‘The Hanging Man’. It pictures a woman and his husband looking out of the window as the former’s paramour hangs practically by his fingernails. The mural, which makes passersby stop and click pictures of it, was paint bombed by vandals.

A large part of Banksy’ popularity is also due to his fiercely guarded identity. There have been attempts to establish it, but it remains inconclusive. In Bristol, every one has a Banksy story. One of the staff, a curator, also has one. “Last week an elderly woman came here with her husband, who had amnesia,” he says. Then he forgets the vital part himself. “I am forgetting their names, but what she said was that it was her husband who taught Banksy how to draw.”

Over here in Bristol, there are legends, myths. And then there is Banksy.