Tag: cottages

February 8th – I’ve not ridden through Little Aston Forge for ages – and this curious hairpin over the Footherley Brook on the plain between Stonnall and Little Aston hasn’t changed a bit.

The brook still flows noisily, and those cottages still sit at an oblique, alarming angle to the lane on a series of nail-biting bends around them and over the hump bridge. 

This is aways a good spot for early spring flowers in the hedgerows of the copse-lined lane, and this evening didn’t disappoint – just as the light was dying, a beautiful patch of wild snowdrops to compliment a pretty decent sunset.

Must start coming this way more often again.

February 4th – Out for a good ride to Middleton and Tamworth on a sunny, bright but cold afternoon. I shot through Footherley against the wind, but as I came through the hamlet itself, I stopped and did a double take.

The old terraced cottages here – which had been derelict as long as I’ve been cycling these lanes, so near enough 40 years at least – have finally been demolished, and nothing now remains.

I’m not really sad for their loss – they were unremarkable in themselves historically and architecturally – but they were a landmark, and I’ll miss the marker they provided.

I wonder – can Keepers Cottage, the house similarly derelict near the brook, back towards Lower Stonnall – be long for the world? I think not.

December 20th – I came back up through Longdon and Farewell as I always do. It was a chilly day with a crisp wind but the sun was lovely, and the views over the village of Upper Longdon were gorgeous. Good to see the renovation of the old Windmill coming on now, too.

Nearby at Red Hill, the houses clinging to the hill are still beautiful, but stopping to photograph them I noticed I had an audience – one large, disapproving cat and a pair of prize pigs. 

A great ride. Really enjoyable.

October 29th – On the edge of Darlaston’s industrial area between Bentley Bridge and the town centre, there sit this curious pair of cottages, on the corner of Gladstone Street and Station Street. Under the paint and facing, these are rather old, note the great chimney pots on the cream one.

I get the feeling there’s a story to these places. Wonder what it is?

September 3rd – I’d been to Redditch for a meeting. I don’t go there much these days, and it made a nice change, to be honest. Nicer still was an early finish, and riding back from Sutton, I chose to ride up through Little Aston Forge, a route I also hadn’t ridden for ages.

I must have passed those lovely cottages on the hairpin loads of times over the years, yet I’ve never noticed the pear and plum trees in the hedgerow opposite. The plums – they seemed a bit large to be true damsons – were well over now, but it looked like there had been a decent crop. 

The pears had suffered from pests, and some were frost damaged, but the ones that survived were large and beautiful.

I really don’t know why I’ve failed to notice these before…

November 2nd – I mentioned last week that the modern Little Aston – location of exclusive private hospital and old folks home, as well as being millionaires square mile – still shows some evidence of being a village of some antiquity. There is, however, a bit of a conundrum. Where Forge Lane crosses the Footherley Brook, adjacent to Forge Wood, there’s a peculiar kink in the lane over a hump bridge. This treacherous hairpin is overlooked by a row of homes called Forge Cottages. Yet further down towards where the main body of the village stood, opposite the primary school is another old forge, still standing, although now occupied by a design studio. I guess both must have been home to blacksmiths.

This is a lovely little village you look past the modern developments.

July 18th – A grey day that threatened rain constantly, but didn’t deliver. I’d been out to Leicester and crawled back from Lichfield tired and drained, over Aldershawe and down into Wall. Cresting the hill, I was struck by the view before me of the farmworkers terraces in Claypit Lane, and of the sweet, rolling countryside to the south, now turning a gorgeous medley of golds and deep, deep greens. I then remembered why I cycle.

Some days, you just need reminding.