Tag: Aston

May 19th – Much of the journey was an errand in Digbeth. I visited the Custard Factory, the hipster area that once promised so much, but these days seems to be a sort of holding area for a failed urban arts dream; but beyond it I found the River Rea, skulking through Digbeth like a dirty secret. 

Also in the backstreets, the bizarre, never finished abandoned Duddeston Railway Viaduct, partially built by the Great Western Railway to gain access to Birmingham New Street, but abandoned half-built when they built their own station at Snow Hill instead, now standing as a sort of infrastructure curiosity, barely noticed by most people who visit.

Returning through Aston and Gravelly Hill, I passed from Salford Park to Aston itself, along the cycleway by the Tame, snaking under the motorway and Cross City Line viaducts. The 1960s motorway revolution heard you liked viaducts, so they put another viaduct over the one you already had.

Birmingham is about it’s arteries: river, canal, rail and road. They both bisect the city, and give it character and history, and I love them all.

May 19th – A gentle afternoon amble into Birmingham along the canal was a lovely trip – but I did get drowned on the way home. I went from work, along the Tame Valley canal and down the Walsall Canal to Aston. It’s nice to see the route to Birmingham now smoothly surfaced all the way from Rushall Junction at Ray Hall, a real improvement that will see me coming this way more in future.

On my way I saw cats, geese, and my nose noted that the flag irises were out, which although gorgeous – in this case growing around an unexpectedly beautiful pond in the shadow of a huge recycling plant in Saltley – always set off my hay fever.

A lovely canal ride on a grey, showery day that still showed the best of urban Birmingham.

May 12th – The rest of the day was marked with damp natural beauty and curiosity; the wild-growing roses were out in St. Matthews churchyard in Walsall, and they fit this decaying corner of God’s Acre beautifully, while not far away, also decaying, the oddity that is Highgate Windmill was standing sentry over the quiet, respectful urbanity as it has done for centuries.

I noted all along the journey that marble oak galls are surprisingly prolific this season, and last year must have been very good for the parent wasps who create them. They hang like red fruits in the oak trees.

Sad to see the Swan and Mitre in Aston still empty: A remarkable terracotta late Victorian pub, hideously beautiful in mock gothic in that way only Victorian boozers can be, this spectacular building holds many memories for me. Many a time I leant on that railing one a summer evening with a pint in my hand watching the comings and goings to late-shift local factories.

Reflecting, I have little physically to show for the few short years I spent haunting this place, but I do have a lifelong friendship and some truly wonderful memories.

The past is best thought of in terms of what was found, not that which was lost.

December 28th – It was one of those so cold, but so beautiful sunlight winter days when there was thin ice on the canal and the usual winter towpath quagmire had frozen solid, so I headed to Birmingham on the canal. From Aldridge, via Rushall Junction, Tower Hill, Aston and Brindley Place. After a call at the German Market I went up to Soho, over Sandwell Valley Park and home on NCN 5 via Yewtree and Walsall.

The kingfisher was the best that could be done – the birds are very active at the moment, but they don’t stay still for long! In the sunset photo, that’s St Augustine’s at Edgbaston, as viewed from the canal mainline at Rotton Park. the sky really was that colour.

A beautiful day, and a lovely ride.

September 9th – In Aston, a sad sight; a pub that I once frequented regularly has closed. Beautiful in that hideously overblown way only Birmingham terracotta pubs can be, the Swan and Mitre on the corner of Holborn Hill was never salubrious, but it was a good boozer that contains many happy memories.

It’s a genuinely astounding building, but sadly the reputation this place carried and decline of nearby industry signed it’s death warrant many years ago. 

Like the Brittania, nearby (now converted into a cafe) there seems little place in modern suburban Birmingham for the huge alehouses of yore, which is a great pity.

Never again will I lean on the railings outside on a warm evening, pint in hand, watching the world go by. But then, those days passed a long, long time ago, and the faces that filled those memories have moved on, slipped away or faded out of mind. 

Except one.

I just hope the building can be repurposed.

May 27th – The birdlife on the canals of Birmingham and the Black Country is wonderful at the moment – everywhere there are goslings, cygnets and ducklings, and the herons were performing well, too – I particularly liked this guy’s Eddie Cochran impression.

Iff these don’t make you go ‘ahhh’, you’ve no soul…

May 27th – I had stuff to do near Allcester, and finished early, so rode over to the canal at Browmsgrove and rode home all the way on the canals, through Birmingham. A great, though tiring ride, the canal was as fascinating and quirky as ever. 

I loved the giant Lego in Aston, and was mindful of the slow men in the water. The boater dogs were charming, and I’d forgotten Brittania in inner-city Brum.

A great ride.

August 30th – This has me flummoxed, and quite, quite furious to be honest. I rode on the cycleway onto the canal near the Jaguar plant at Castle Browmwich; from there it’s a decent ride on the canal to the city centre, via Spaghetti Junction. I do it loads. The towpaths for the whole route have been excellent in the last few years, from when they were upgraded about 10 years ago.

Today, I noted huge sections of path out of city towards Spaghetti, and further out towards Tyburn are being completely relaid. There is absolutely no need for this, and it’s a huge waste of resources that would be better employed instituting a decent towpath between Perry Barr and Rushall Junction, which is currently lousy, or from Bordesley to Solihull, which is pretty much impassible in winter or wet weather.

I’m assuming this is to do with the council and the ‘Birmingham Cycle Revolution’ – I wouldn’t trust the buggers to run a bath judging by this pointless waste.

April 9th – I found myself in Aston, exploring the underbelly of Spaghetti Junction, and the bizarre number of other arteries it conceals – a rail junction, a river, and four canals. I spun around Aston, and spotted the Britannia, a classic, over-the-top Brum boozer, like the Bartons Arms, now marooned in a sea of modernity. It had been a couple of decades since I’d been this way, but little has changed. Some of the street art on the flood channel walls along the Tame is nearly 30 years old.