Tag: commute

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 24th – The thaw started today, just a little. Fragments of the day were almost spring-like, if one avoided the snow. The melting wasn’t dramatic, but it formed long, threatening Damacles daggers that hung ominously from gutters and eaves. By the time of the sunset, it was well below freezing once more. The sunset itself was beautiful and dramatic, and I caught it hurriedly, rushing for the train at Tyseley. Some times, it’s hard to beat a good, urban sundown.

I got to Brum about 4:45pm. And it was still light, more or less. We really are opening out now.

January 21st – I was expecting traffic chaos, so I left it until late to leave for work. As it was, I needn’t have bothered, as the schools were closed, and the traffic was light. The trains weren’t too bad, either, and the only bad aspect of the commute was the atrocious state of Mill Lane at Mill Green. It’s only a backlane, but I thought it would be OK; however, the snow had compacted, then started to break up and it was like riding on slippery shingle, even with the studded tyres.

Stonnall, Grove Hill and Castlehill looked beautiful in the snow. It’ll be interesting to see how we cope as the cold snap, predicted to last at least a week, begins to bite. After all, it’s not got too cold yet…

January 18th – Hey, some real snow. The heaviest snows I can recall since the 1980s came today. It didn’t really start snowing heavily until I left the house for work. A long slog into the wind, and a battle to get to Tyseley, but it was fun, nonetheless. When I got to my destination, two hours later, I found they were closing in less than an hour. Never mind, I picked up some stuff, and cycled back into Birmingham, weaving through the gridlocked traffic of Sparkbrook, Camp Hill and Digbeth. Catching a train back to Blake Street, I wrapped up warm and went for a ride around the backlanes to Footherley, Shenstone and Chesterfield. A great ride, in the most dramatic, stunning weather. You can’t beat riding in freshly fallen snow. Coupled with the sensory overload of sight, sound and touch, there’s nothing like it.

January 15th – It felt like the coldest morning of the winter so far, although I doubt that was the actually the case. Overnight, the drizzle had gone and the skies cleared, and I awoke to a bright, ice-hard morning. The main roads were fine, and the countryside looked beautiful in the traitor cold sunshine. The backlands, however, were untreated and impressively icy. Even with the spiked tyres, these were a challenge for first ice-ride of the year. I loved the commute this morning, it was fantastic. After all that rain, such a joy for the brightness of the january sun, the burning cold in my throat, the steam of my breath and the concentration of riding carefully.
It’s nice to feel alive again. 

January 14th – Well it snowed. A little, no more than an inch, really, and very, very wet; it was pouring with rain as I left for work. Taking care to avoid the school run, I wound my way around the backlanes, taking an undignified delight in the white landscape. I love the snow. Hope we get some more… but of the dry variety. Public transport held up, and there weren’t too many folks driving like idiots. I got very wet, but I had fun. Not bad for a Monday morning…

January 8th – It’s still very mild, and in the morning, I started out into a dull, overcast and hazy day, with a high mist that cloaked the top of the Sutton Coldfield TV transmitter masts. It didn’t bode well, and true to my expectation, the commute home was wet. Why do railway stations always look so dramatic in the night time rain? All those textured surfaces, I guess, and bright lights, I guess.

I think I’ve spent to long admiring stations in the rain, of late…

November 30th – When you have to be home for something important., that’s when fate trips you up. I was dashing home. I left work at 3:50pm, and the trains I would have caught from Tyseley or Acocks Green were all cancelled due to London Midland’s ongoing staff crisis. Catching a train at Spring Road, I managed to get to New Street in time to catch the Walsall train. When that turned up ten minutes late, it was only two carriages. With other service cancellations, there was no way I’d get on, and the crush I witnessed on the platform was nasty and dangerous. I opted to try for a Lichfield bound service, but they were all similarly stricken or curtailed. After 30 minutes of faff at New Street, I got a train to Four Oaks, and cycled home from there. After a freezing, tired ride, I arrived home at 6:40pm – nearly three hours after I left work.

The local train service operated by London Midland is crippled by bad man-management and operational difficulties. I could have cycled the distance in a third of the time, and wished I had. I’m seriously considering dumping the trains for Birmingham journeys. The farce that is the cancellation of services due to staff losses and mismanagement is harming the reputation of the service, and resulting in huge crowds of frustrated passengers at New Street. Quite how bad this will get with the Christmas crowds is causing me a great deal of concern. Awful.

November 26th – Commutes seem to be alternating at the moment – wet and dry. This morning, after the rains of the weekend, it was blessedly clear and dry as I left home in the morning. The roads, however, were quite treacherous; flooding and debris made the going cautious. Accumulations of greasy leaves, tree debris and marbles made the journey interesting in parts. As I descended into Birmingham, the morning got mistier. In Acocks Green, I came past The Old Fire Station. I have no idea what it’s used for today – clearly not a firefighter in sight – but it is rather wonderful. I think it’s offices. It seems as if around every corner in Acocks Green there’s a new architectural curiosity. I feel I could live here.