September 22nd – Dejected and wistful, we pottered up the old line into Birmingham, through Oldbury. The rain held off. The flowers and berries that were out welcomed us and glistened in there coating of raindrops. The towpaths were wet, but made for good riding. There were few people around, and the verdant, still mostly green canals were a real tonic.
Past the old engine house, Tollhouse Loop, M5 Viaduct and engine arm, and into central Birmingham. The mood improved.
An interesting graffiti writer had been at work, leaving neat-script, cryptic phrases at intervals from the Soho Loop to the ICC. That was engaging and something to spot and ponder over.
At the city centre, food, drink, then up the A34 cycleway to the canal at Perry Barr, and home via Ray Hall and Rushall Junction.
A bad day had been pulled around. The rain held off. Deep down, it didn’t feel so bad. But I’m getting far too old to work weekends – I was exhausted.
But there was one inescapable thought – if those folk at Tipton had held on, they’d have had a decent afternoon.
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