Tag: Hotel

#365daysofbiking Exorcising ghosts

July 7th – The sunset was the culmination of a glorious golden hour.

Birmingham and Aston shone and shimmered in the gathering dusk.

A train caught the sky and was golden: Britannia fought a pitched battle on the former hotel roof with the TV antennas. The skylines and canal spoke of quiet dignity, worship and daily life.

I spent many hours as a young man in these streets, on the canals and at this station. The ghosts that haunt me here are not scary, or hostile, but warm and comfortable like enveloping sheets of memory.

My place, my past, present and future.

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February 1st – On my way back, the weather was more patchy, but changing trains at Aston midday, I thought of the great genius that was Nuala Hussey’s Stranded in Stechford (she lived for a while near the station) and of the incongruity of the Britannia Hotel, still with the great lady resplendent, enthroned on the roof, but no longer atop a hotel with dreams of majesty but a backstreet cafe.

Aston has changed since I was a teenager, exploring this place and the love I found near here. We drank in pubs long closed, and laughed and dreamed and made friends and argued and loved. We still do most of those things, of course, but Aston, like many places of my youth, is lost to me now. All of the faces I knew here except one have gone as I grow old, either lost, separated or drifted apart, but whenever I stand on these platforms, high above the sprawling morass below, I remember those days and it makes me sad.

Although I’m sad for the people I no longer see, I’m most sad for lost sense of belonging, and for my youth. But all through my life I’ve passed through places like this, made them mine for a while, then life took me to other places, with different horizons, and life moved on.

Aston is just a wind-blown, suburban and somewhat desolate railway station; two platforms and a junction. But there are ghosts here. And they haunt me so.

I felt old. But like my ghost, my spirit remains. 

The train came, I hauled my bike onto it and I sat down.

‘Are you OK?’ asked a lady in the opposite seat.

Caught unaware, I wiped my eyes. ‘Just the wind I think’ I said, ineffectually.

‘It’s getting colder’ she replied. And offered me a tissue.

February 1st – I returned to Walsall in the early evening, and had to pop up to the Manor Hospital, so took a line through the Wharf, which looks better now there’s some development around it. Nice to see the Wharf Bar renewed after it’s recent closure, and with the new cinema, restaurants and bars, at last the area seems alive after years of seeming almost somnambulant.

That hotel, though. Can’t abide the architecture. It’s like some soviet secret service interrogation headquarters… and I’m a fan of Brutalism. Ugh.

November 5th – At Telford, two mysteries, one easily solved. On my journey I often pass a budget hotel, the rear of which is visible from the cycleway. On top of a cage surrounding what looks like air conditioning and refrigeration plant, a bicycle. It hasn’t moved for a year or more, or at least, it’s been there every day I’ve passed by. I’m wondering if anybody has actually noticed it from the hotel, or if it’s just a really secure locking space?

And then, the bike shed at the place I was visiting. Normally I have a job finding a space on sunny days. Today, only the hardcore mountain biker guy has rode in. And it looks like he got a wet arse doing so.

No mystery about fair-weather cyclists…

November 3rd – On my return from Lichfield, I passed the old Muckley Corner, where there former pub and hotel has been converted back into homes. It’s taken a while, but the building is looking splendid now, particularly at night when it’s beautifully lit.

It can’t be far off finished by now. It’s good to see the old place preserved, and returned to   the kind of arrangement the terrace would have had before the pub expanded.

October 13th – As if to hammer home my point, Town Wharf, across the basin from the New Art Gallery. This is a new hotel. It looks like something thrown up in Tito’s Yugoslavia. It’s hideous, cheap and nasty. It opens in a couple of weeks – why not come and stay? Affording excellent views of the derelict and burnt out factory over the water, it’s sure to be a big tourist draw…

Walsall deserves so much better than this shit.

September 14th – I hauled myself up from Lichfield slowly, fully loaded with shopping, against a horrid wind and with little energy. I was feeling grim, and Muckley Corner at rush hour is no place for old men. Having traversed it, I pulled over on the far side of the junction and took a look at the old Muckley Corner Pub/Cornerhouse Hotel. It’s been beautifully converted into dwellings – it’s clear now that there will be no form of commercial afterlife for this pub. In a way, it’s all gone full circle, as originally, the building was a corner pub and associated terraced houses. 

A number of folk have pointed out the attention to detail in the reuse of the decorative coping tiles, ridge pieces and finials. They look wonderful. Shame about the chimneys, though…

March 29th – I haven’t a clue what’s going on with the old Muckley Corner Hotel anymore. It’s supposed to be under conversion back into dwellings (at least the rear part), yet the saga of painting, woodwork, then ripping the roof and freshly painted render off has been as bizarre as it has been perplexing. I wondered if the old pub part on the corner had a future as a pub or restaurant once more, but the way things are going, I think the building may fall down first. An odd state of affairs.