Tag: Pleck Road

December 1st – I keep passing this, and often wait at the lights looking at it – and every time I do it irritates the hell out of me.

On the Pleck Road junction in Walsall, where it meets Ida Road and Rollingmill Street, there is a new build block of apartments. Blessed with an aesthetic only a mother could love, it’s not the physical ugliness that bothers me – but the finish of the woodwork, external plumbing and hardstandings.

If this is what the outside quality is like, one can only wonder about the inside…

20th November – Still clinging on, and looking handsome despite the decay, the mellow, early winter sunshine lit up the Workhouse Guardian’s Office beautifully. Derelict for some years, this listed building is marooned in front of the new Manor Hospital on Pleck Road in Walsall. 

I wish someone would find a suitable use and rejuvenate this lovely edifice; every detail of it is gorgeous from the stained glass windows to the beautifully ornate finial and weathervane. But such old buildings are expensive to renovate and convert, and in such an unusual physical position uses must be very limited indeed.

In the meantime, this Victorian wonder is being gently carried to dust, Havershambling away unloved, except by the few who see it’s beauty. I pray the arsonists don’t spot it.

February 13th – It struck me as I returned from work late, that hospitals grow their own economic microclimate. All round Walsall’s new Manor Hospital, there are a range of convenience shops. More than average numbers of newsagents, cafes, taxi offices and even undertakers. Oddly, fast food outlets of varying degrees of healthiness also proliferate. I wonder if they’re serving the staff, or patients more? Here on the Pleck Road, business looked brisk, even at this evening hour.

5th October – There seemed to be a lot of dodgy driving today as I rode home from Darlaston. This one, at the Pleck Road Junction near the former Brown Lion pub, Walsall – although not terrible in itself, was somewhat annoying. Clearly the result of queuing across the junction. The lady driver giving me the finger as I cycled past was a particularly tasteful touch, I thought.