October 10th – I passed through Birmingham in a hurry on business in the late afternoon. Passing through Cathedral Square, I noticed something I hadn’t before – the wonderful, priapic Alpha Tower as viewed in low sun down Waterloo Street – past an example of nearly every period of architecture in Birminghams history of continual change.
I stopped for a moment, and caught my breath.
August 26th – A day that should have been terrible by rights, but worked out wonderfully in the end.
Not many photos, as I was too busy riding!
I needed a part for the bike which has developed an annoying creak. So I booked a click and collect for an extortionately priced replacement part at a national cycle chain in Sutton for collection same day. I set off and when I got to the shop, it was all a big error, and they hadn’t got the part, couldn’t refund me and couldn’t understand why I was in the least bit annoyed.
Desperate to end the mechanical whinging, I did some of my own and headed to Birmingham to score a part somewhere else. This robbed me of the ride I had planned. At 5pm, having the parts, a coffee and some stodgy comfort food, I peered at the departure boards at new Street for inspiration – if I was to get a country ride in, I had to select carefully.
Nuneaton won.
Arriving at Nuneaton 30 minutes later, I headed for Higham, Stoke Golding and Sutton Cheney through gorgeous sun-dappled countryside, pushing for Market Bosworth along a lovely road I’d cycled 10 years previously. It was gorgeous. I headed back home through Congerstone, Builstone, Twycross and down the long, cross-country green lane of Salt Street into a terrific sunset. No Man’s Heath, Clifton, Harlaston, Hademore, Whittington and Wall made up the return.
It was a beautiful, English evening ride. Warm, little wind and beautiful scenery. 65 miles.
The firethorn (Pyrocanthus) is beautiful along the Birmingham canals, and the newly thatched cottage in Market Bosworth with the two foxes – how on earth did the thatcher get such expression into bundles of reeds? Stunning.
June 23rd – I had to nip to the Holford industrial estate in North Birmingham on the way home from work – I was going to go to Walsall and hop on a train, but it was quicker just to head straight there. Making my way to the station on my return, I spotted this curious sight on the corner of Brookvale Road and Deykin Avenue in Witton.
I can’t make much sense of this – why remove a key part of a building like that? I was particularly taken with the fireplace and chimney still clinging on for dear life.
I sense there’s a story here. If anyone knows, I’d love to hear it.
June 9th – A trip into Birmingham on some errands on a grey, overcast and miserable afternoon. Crossing what’s now called ‘Spiceal Street’ – the open space running down from the Bullring Centre to the Markets and St. Martins, I looked down and noticed this curious plaque set into a manhole cover in the paving.
I suppose I ought to look it up, but this seems bizarre to me; how can a meteorite fall twice? In 2000, this was a building site. Is this some pop-culture reference I’m dumb to, or is it genuine?
(Added later)
Hang on. This really has a whiff of Bill Drummond about it – it feels like one of his.
How peculiar… anyone know about this?
May 29th – A dreadful day, and an awful ride.
Being bank holiday, I wanted to get out, and checking the forecast, convinced myself that the heavy showers predicted wouldn’t come to much. I needed some bits for the bike, so decided to ride into Birmingham along the Stockland Green/Brookvale route and on to the canal, then ride back.
The rain started as I left home and didn’t stop. I spent 45 minutes waiting for a break in the rain in a subway under the m6 at Witton. I was soaked to the skin, my feet were wet and I was miserable.
Arriving in Birmingham the rain eased off a little, I got what I came for and had a coffee and something to eat. I decided to get the train back to Shenstone as the rain was coming on again.
It’s a long time since I’ve seen such a bank holiday washout. I really felt for anyone who’d organised an event. A wet, soaking and sodden afternoon.
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.
May 12th – Slowly recovering from my tribulations, I headed off to Birmingham along the canals and through Sandwell Valley Park for some light relief. It was a dreadfully dark, rain-spattered day but the birdlife I saw was incredible. From the bluetits near Park Hall to the young waterfowl all along the canals of the area, multiplication really is the name of the game.
Glad to see the six cygnets all present and correct at Catshill Junction, and who knew gulls could yawn?
March 24th – In Birmingham for an important work visit, I took time in the afternoon to do some shopping, both in the centre and up on the Soho Road.
That bike was parked on New Street – what on earth could the time be carrying? It’s very sturdy and from the marks, is clearly often stood on end.
I have no idea, but that must be the very devil to ride. Chapeau! For that one.
Over in Soho,looking up above the frenetic, chaotic shopfronts, more oddly elongated structures. I’ve never seen chimney pots like that before. Guess it’s to elevate the emitted fumes, but it looks very odd.
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