January 31st – Evening, Birmingham. It’s about a quarter past five, and the city is sliding gracefully into darkness at the end of another working day. I was here to see the lights come on, in and around Colmore Row and the Cathedral, the grounds of which are affectionately known as ‘Pigeon Park’.
People slag Birmingham off continually. It’s beautiful, if you open your eyes. This could almost be Belgravia.
My city, my past, present and future. How I adore it.
January 31st – Someone asserted yesterday that I should be glad of increased cycling facilities in the UK. I am, and I’m not. Here’s why.
On the Coventry Road, Birmingham, near the St. Andrews ground, there are lights to control a ‘y’ junction. Prior to the junction, there is a green tarmac filter lane leading to an advance stop line (ASL). The idea is that cyclists use the green lane up the inside of the traffic to access the green ASL box to place themselves safely at the head of the queue. This rarely works in practice, and to me, is actively encouraging dangerous cycling behaviour.
If I were to take the lane up the side of the traffic, as the skip lorry is occupying the ASL, I’d likely stop next to him. Right in his blind spot. Cyclists tend to be quicker off the mark at lights than lorries and chances are we’d interact at the pinch point a few yards ahead. If the lorry goes down left fork here (which he did, without indicating the intention), he would not see the cyclist and possibly lead to the cyclist being crushed at the pinch point between the railings and the lorry.
This road position kills the vast majority of adult cyclists mortally injured on the roads in the UK. It’s bloody stupid to get up the inside left of a line of traffic, as drivers don’t expect it and often, physically can’t see you. Between the ‘safety’ railings and the lorry wheels, you’re toast. Or rather, puree.
This cycling ‘facility’ encourages dangerous road positioning, and in my view, makes this junction more dangerous to the inexperienced cyclist.
I’ll celebrate cycling facilities when they’re safe, and designed properly. Not ill-thought out lip service like this.
January 30th – Another sign of the season’s wheel inexorably rotating came to my attention tonight. Stopping to attend to a sticking gear cable in Shelfield, on the corner of the verge, just under a hedgerow, something is stirring. Quietly, determinedly, a yellow army is emerging. Using only the power of cellular hydraulic action and the mystical imperative for growth, some celestial trigger has kickstarted spring. Soon, the foot solders will be amongst us, bright, yellow and beautiful.
It’s started now. There’s no going back. This makes me very happy indeed.
January 30th – The sun came out today, and it felt springlike, which I didn’t mind at all. I guess I’d been mourning the passing of the snow – at night, it makes the landscape light in a way that’s almost joyful, and when the thaw comes, it’s like being plunged back into darkness. I’d felt it keenly since Sunday; the weather has been bloody grim, and to turn out on a sunny morning – even with a wind crafted on Satan’s back step – was a joy to the heart.
I’ve actually found a ramp down to the Solihull platform at Moor Street, which I thought had been closed years ago. As I made my way to it today. I looked at the road system, and the buildings around. I can remember the old Bull Ring well, the network of 60s subways and overpasses. But I can’t place any of it, which I find sad. I know Manzoni Gardens was here somewhere, but…
Brum was also showing beautifully from the overbridge at Tyseley. With decent light, I could zoom right in, and I noticed something I’d not done before; before the mosque, and the shiny modernity of the city centre, there are rows of terrace roofs and chimneys in Small Heath and Sparkbrook. I found it fascinating.
January 29th – The wind and rain drag on. The day started decent enough, but by midday, dissolved into a morass of squally showers and buffeting winds. With an eye to the wind direction, I got the train back to Walsall and let the wind blow me home, which it did wonderfully. Bullings Heath – the old name for the area around the Black Cock pub and bridge in Walsall Wood glistened in the drizzle, the light reflecting off the wet asphalt.
In a way, it was beautiful, but I wish the rain would stop for a while.
January 28th – The weather continues to be warm and windy. Fighting it coming home from work, it was hard to believe that only a few days before, it was sub-zero temperatures and ling snow. No trace remained as I hauled the bike over Shire Oak Hill. The lights of the pub looked welcoming, and the temptation to pop in for a swift pint was strong.
January 28th – Marbles. I go on about them repeatedly, with good reason. The roads are absolutely covered right now in debris – bits of wood, bits of vehicle, grit residue and gravel, left behind by the snow and ide. This material gathers in hollows and patches on the roads, and passing traffic grinds and polishes it ind it’s wheels. The result is a loose material with very low friction, that lurks on bends and junctions, ready to snatch your wheels from under you. It’s particularly bad in backlanes, but even busy roads like the Chester Road are affected.
Motorbikers call this debris ‘marbles’ due to the similarity to riding on glass beads. The problem will remain until either the road is swept, or heavy rains wash the worst away.Take extra care, please.
January 28th – Birmingham New Street Station is undergoing huge alterations at the moment, and is overrun buy people involved in the reconstruction. Sometimes, they almost seem to match in number the passengers; they emerge from hatches and previously unnoticed doorways, often surveying, taking measurements or gazing at ceilings. There’s clearly a lot of thought going on.
I keep noticing these tiny target symbols in odd locations about the station. About 20mm square, they have a precision cross-hair on them and a unique number , and they’re printed on reflective material. They’re vital to operations here, but I suspect few ever notice them.
They’re measurement datums. A theodolite – either placed in position by an engineer, or permanently sited in an out of the way spot – will focus on this target, and accurate geometrical measurements can be made, indicating if the target, or the wall it’s attached to, has moved, or to precisely locate some other measurement. Automatic systems will do this across multiple visible datums repeatedly, unattended, and alert engineers if there’s any change.
I suspect this is part of an automatic monitoring system as it’s above normal working, and therefore, crowd height, just to the left of the telephone kiosk roof.
Civil engineering is getting more and more sophisticated.
January 27th – The snow, thanks to heavy rain and a sudden ramp in temperature – had gone. Only the remnants of snowmen remained, melancholy mementoes of the whiteness of the week before. The consequent darkness around St. James Church shocked me in it’s foreboding.
I’d been to drop something off to a friend, and the weather was wet, warm and inclement. I cycled up the dark pathway from School Avenue, up past the cemeteries and churchyard, and the church itself was unoccupied at 5:45pm on a Sunday, which I found oddly sad. Brownhills Church is one I’ve always had difficulty with architecturally; It’s not ugly, and it’s not remarkable. Apart from an odd spire and hideous extension, it’s pretty plain, really. It’s position, however, is excellent. It’s like the centre of the town was built around it, and the warren of streets take curious right angles around the grounds.
January 26th – Had a wry laugh at this one. Noticed yesterday that the sign was still up trumpeting the new Pier Street footbridge, over the canal in central Brownhills. The bridge is a fine thing indeed, linking as it does Clayhanger and Brownhills in style, replacing a steep-stepped footbridge that was awful, frankly.
I was unaware of Walsall Council’s ‘Drive to regenerate Brownhills District Centre’ – wonder how that’s going?
Would the last business to leave the town please switch the lights off and feed the deer? Cheers.
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