Tag: railway

September 18th – Another reason to like Leicester is the railway station. Recently refurbished, it’s full of thoughtful features, and has twice the number of ticket machines as Birmingham New Street, which says much. The front concourse has been totally reconstructed, and features some clever and unique bike parking – although there clearly isn’t enough of it.
This is a wonderful solution, and the whole lot is under CCTV watch with it’s own camera. the BTP also plant tracker-fitted bikes here to catch thieves.  Sadly, though, the mechanics of the stands seem to have baffled one punter…
Well done to the designers – nice job. Love it. 

September 3rd – Beauty is often found in unexpected places, and unexpected circumstances. Like a bad penny today, I pitched up again in South Wigston. This station – no more than a suburban halt, really – has always been a station I’d hated. No information system, little shelter, grim and fore bidding in the dark. And very, very cold in winter. Yet, this year, something strange happened. I discovered beauty here. I started to study the patch of scrub between the ramp and platform on the northbound side way back in spring, when it started to show a remarkable diversity of flowers. Untended, it seems to have been subject to some form of guerrilla planting. As the seasons have advanced, I’d spotted more stuff going on in this patch of scrub, which I feel sure I’m the only person ever to have noticed. It’s enchanting.
Today I found myself studying it again, at 8:45 on a misty, yet hazily sunny autumn morning. The fruiting has started in earnest. Haws, Hips, and catoniaster (the blackbirds go nuts for those bright orange berries) mingled with teasels, snails and cobwebs to make an autumnal tableaux that astounded and transfixed me.
Sometimes, I think I must be the only person in the world who gets excited about this stuff.

August 20th – Leicester again today, and South Wigston station – usually a place of vague, unfocused hatred for me, continues to surprise and delight. Last time it was roses and foxgloves. This time, sweet peas, I think. Just growing wild on a patch of unloved scrub, wildflowers and weeds being beautiful, for no other reason than to attract bees and make me realise what a fine country I live in.

A Monday morning delight to the soul.

August 17th – Some development decisions baffle me totally. Out again at dawn to Four Oaks station, I found myself early and hanging around. I studied the apartment blocks that had been built on the former builder’s yard next to the station. The yard was originally railway sidings last used to serve MotorRail, and is cut into the hill back towards Mere Green. That means a very narrow strip of land with an oblique retaining wall one side, and a view over a commuter railway station at the other. Into this narrow dog-leg, builders have squeezed bland, characterless boxes. 

Presumably, the Mere Green/Four Oaks adress sells them, and the commuter links. I find them utterly hideous, with a dreadful outlook.

August 2nd – Telford Station is pretty grim, and currently stuck in some kind of refurbishment hell. I dislike the place, but it has no steps, so by any degree has to be better than Lichfield Trent Valley station, the rectum of British railways. However, one aspect of the station that just keeps on giving is the flower bed on the westbound platform. I don’t know who plants it and tends it, but it’s a delight all year round, and very much appreciated. Gorgeous.

July 23rd – I found myself commuting to Leicester this week. This means an early run to Lichfield Trent Valley, a change at Nuneaton and cycling from South Wigston. This is a journey unique in the British railway system in that it features the two worst stations in the country (apart from possibly Hale and Dovey Junction). However, this year, South Wigston has been a delight. I have no idea who, but someone has been guerilla planting flowers on the scrub on the northbound platform. Earlier in the year it was a riot of grape hyacinths, bluebells and primroses. Now it’s a peculiar but delightful yellow unknown flower, roses, budleia and foxgloves. Beauty in such an unexpected place. It can’t be cultivated, because it’s still just scrub.

July 9th – To be quite frank, I find this depressing. Finding myself in Tyseley again, I keep thinking about this sign. British Steel ceased to exist in 1999. I know Allen Rowland still exist in some form, but to me, this just symbolises the death of British industry. A fading sign for a long gone brand stood at the entrance to a half-derelict train yard, viewed from a decaying station. How very symbolic.

June 7th – Birmingham New Street. This is Birmingham New Street. All regular travellers through Birmingham’s derided main station will recognise that tannoy jingle. I have a love-hate relationship with the place; dark, grubby, overcrowded, a nightmare on a bike or for the elderly or disabled. Yet, unlike so many stations, the layout is logical, compact and easy to grasp. It just carries way too much traffic and we need a new station – possibly on Eastside – to relieve it, then maybe the platforms could be reduced in number and widened, some natural light could be let in. 

There’s history, here, too, but not many realise. The arches at the end of platform 2 and 3 are a remnant of the original Victorian Station, as are many of the retaining cutting walls. The signal box – a remarkable Brutalist style structure designed by Bicknell & Hamilton to resemble an electrical component, is listed and a wonderful thing. As developers tear away at the upper levels, the ‘regeneration’ (how I hate that word) of this much misunderstood transport hub will not solve any of it’s functional problems, but I’m still rather fond of the old dump, if I’m honest.

June 6th – I left Darlaston late in the afternoon to head to Tyseley for an important meeting at short notice. This happened to coincide with heavy downpours, which I managed to avoid with an air of smugness that must surely come before a drowning. At 5:45pm, Moor Street in Birmingham was busy, and wringing wet in the midst of a rainstorm. At the other end of my short hop, I waited ten minutes for the rain to ease off. With all the gutter-less canopies, Tyseley is surprisingly hypnotic in the rain.

June 5th – It was another miserable day, but the wildlife at Chasewater was showing well. There were several deer on the north heath, but it was this stray hind that caught my eye. Hanging around the railway line, she seemed to be after food, but didn’t sam to quite trust me. Coming quite close at times, the scene was spoiled, as it usually is in summer, by an idiot with a dog off the lead.