April 15th – I love the Soho Road and that part of Birmingham in general, on the Smethwick/West Brom border. I took a ride up there after developing the craving for some decent dhokla – a savoury, fragrant yellow sponge made from gram flour, rice and chickpea, with chilli and coriander. This Gujarati snack is hard to get in Walsall, which is a shame as it’s gorgeous.

My fascination with the Soho Road is enduring – I’ve been coming here for three decades, and watched it change. Back then, the predominant accents here were Pakistani and Irish, now they’re more likely to be Eastern European, African or Afro Caribbean. Similarly, there are changes in the shops; a large Polish supermarket, various delis and lots of Caribbean fast food and baked goods.

Some things never change, though; the frenetic activity, the chatter, the mad traffic, the rush to be somewhere. The colourful fruit and veg and material emporia, the lurid platters of burfi in the windows.I watched a chap frying fresh jelabi on an outdoor stand, sweet centres were in full production for the weekend wedding feasts and looming over it all, the fading, resplendent (and in the case of the Red Lion, frankly hideous) architecture.

I love this place. I adore Birmingham. Even on this grey day.

April 15th – I had a late meeting in Birmingham, and the weather was grey and wet. Unusually, though, this didn’t dampen my enthusiasm for the city, which never looks good on a grey day. Finishing my task, I went for a mooch around the city centre and spotted this brutalist gem hiding in plain sight in New Street. 

Architecturally, it seems a mix of brutalism and a kind of stilted, controlled art deco. I have a feeling it’s more modern than it’s appearance belies.

Does anyone know anything about it or who the architect was? It’s quietly stunning.

April 9th – A short spin from Brownhills to Newtown and back was under the most peculiar spring weather – bright sunshine but with a dark and very threatening sky, To catch it’s glory I came back from Newtown along the canal to Brownhills, and was fascinated by the eastern skies.

This place is beautiful. Never let anyone tell you different. Even when the weather is poor.

April 5th – A bad day for commuting, really; soaked with a headwind on the way to work, and shot blasted by hail and caught in a short, sharp shower on the way home. But at least by then, the wind was behind me.

The rain on my return was broken by periods of bright sunshine which although directly warm on the back, couldn’t counter the strong, bitter wind; but we did get a rainbow. Almost Imperceptible to the northeast, but stronger over the darker cloud to the southeast it was beautiful – and a good while since I saw one.

Talk about four seasons in one day…

April 4th – An odd day – heavy showers in the morning interspersed with bright, warm sunny periods, and a nightmare, torrential-rain soaked ride home. At lunchtime on an errand from work into Walsall, I have no idea what the pigeon was thinking, but it seemed happy. Walsall dripped, sparkled and glistened, and the swans at Bentley Bridge didn’t seem bothered. 

The homeward trip was fun, but very wet. Flash floods hit the main roads and drains blew their covers. It was warm though, so not too bad.

I guess this are April showers, then…

March 29th – It never rains but it pours. After a period of quite grim ill health, things became a bit more complicated over Easter, and I’m beginning to wonder if life will ever return to normal. But of course, it will – it always does.

So it was into a wet, post-rain landscape that I slipped out into at dusk after a chaotic, frenetic day. Nothing was working, I was in some discomfort and I was exhausted. I was heading for Chasewater, and had looped up through Catshill Junction along saturated towpaths. In fading light, cold and with wet legs I decided to cut the expedition off at Chase Road and head back for Brownhills.

Some days you’re glad just to make it through in one piece.

March 26th – Not a great day – squally, wet, windy with periods of heavy rain. It brightened up as I slipped out for the last dusk before British Summer Time commenced, and I caught the wonderful, intemperate sunset from Silver Street, looking over the canal.

For an ostensibly ugly place, Brownhills sure can take your breath away.

March 19th – Chasewater matched my mood, grey, flat and dull… But of course, it had a certain desolate charm. I noted the reservoir was still overflowing and the flowing water in the spillway was attracting a variety of wildlife – early bugs were circulating in the air, which in turn were catching the attention of wagtails and other small birds. As I took photos, a kestrel hovered, searching the wetland for anything small, squeaky and edible.

Oddly, while I was there, I didn’t see a solitary soul.

March 14th – A horrid return journey into an easterly wind was cold, protracted and unpleasant. I took a breather on Catshill Junction Bridge to catch my breath before heading into Brownhills. Only just dark, tonight it was shades of dark blue following a dull, overcast day.

I love this spot. It’s changed so much in the past 20 years or so.