Tag: Station

November 19th – The Queen herself today travelled to Birmingham (by train, which won’t have been delayed and will have had a working toilet) to open a station that hadn’t closed and has merely been subject to having a retail opportunity badly assembled on top, and is still unfinished.

Brenda won’t have had to walk up a static escalator, or pull a pushchair up the stairs. She won’t have seen the dingy, grim end of platforms where the 1980s access bridge hasn’t even been granted a clean down.

Someone once said that Royalty must think everywhere smells of fresh paint. In Birmingham tonight, on a late journey from home, the overpowering smell was more reminiscent of the farmyard.

Oh, and Phil – we do speak English. Chances are Shakespeare would sound more like our tongue than the fabricated received English of the Windsors (and spousal attachments).

November 5th – Off to Telford, and another wet, warm commute. That wonderful autumn has come to a very soggy, miserable end. I stood on New Street watching the people, signals and trains as the drizzle softened the light. I must have spent hundreds of hours waiting here over the years. This station is in my blood like the traffic fumes and air of the city, and although I hate the state of it, and what’s been done to it, I still love the place.

I find as I get older my relationship with urban spaces is getting more and more complicated. These are still my places, but I feel much more ambivalent about them now. I’m not sure I like it.

October 23rd – Unusually, I’ve passed through Birmingham New Street Station a lot this week. It doesn’t really get any easier, and although it’s home, and something I’m fond of, it’s still difficult: down on the platforms it’s still 1970, and all the posh lights and fascias can’t change the fact that even in the nicest weather it’s dark, dingy, cold and often wet.

I often look at folk on the other platforms, and wonder where they’re headed, and if they’re as ambivalent about this place as I am…

October 22nd – Time for a seasonal warning. After raised winds and heavy rain, what can be better than riding through freshly fallen leaves? At Telford, the cycleways are thick with leaf litter, and very beautiful.

This is a cause for caution as well as awe. These leaves retain the rain from the day before, and still contain enough sap and resin to be slippery and form a soapy, friction-reducing goop the will steal your wheels from under you in a flash.

Where the leaf-fall is on busy roads, the pulp mixed with diesel can be like black ice.

Enjoy the beautiful scenes – but hey, be careful out there.

October 21st – How do you like these apples? They are growing near Telford Station, and seem to be untouched by human hands.Dripping in the insistent rain, they looked beautiful in their glistening, ripe glory.

Gently, so as to not get drenched. I plucked one from the tree and tried it. A little sharp, but not bad at all. And a very good harvest, to boot.

October 21st – The ‘New’ New Street, theoretically and somewhat  risibly renamed ‘Grand Central’ wasn’t looking very new mid morning on this very wet autumn day. Leaks dripped through on to the concourse, the steps and platforms were slippery, and at the end of Platform 8 there was little sign of any of the multiple millions this misguided, lousy project has gobbled up with next to no improvement in passenger experience.

It’s about time Birmingham woke up and realised it’s new Emperor is stark bollock naked.

July 31st – An hour or so later, in Telford, I spotted the flowerbed at the railway station was rather wonderful in the sunlight. The day was warming, and the bright colours of the bedding plants were lovely. I don’t know who tends this planter, but whatever time of year it always looks incredible.

Thanks to whoever maintains it.

June 29th – Passing through New Street Station early on a sunny, bright morning. The skyline looked as busy as ever with clashing architectures, wires, antenna and other urban structures. And in the middle, the buddleia growing from the signalling cable raceway on the Hill Street Bridge was flourishing, seemingly unhindered and unnoticed.

July 28th – Called to Telford mid-morning, I hopped on the train and headed over there with my bike. Being quiet, it gave me chance to study the decaying, scruffy footbridge that links Telford railway station to the town centre. Whilst having an interesting perspective effect, this ugly and intimidating edifice gives a very poor impression to anyone arriving at the town by train.

Very much a relic of the 80s, it’s from an age that discovered the social effect of bright colours and modernist design, but hadn’t yet worked through the issues of Brutalism – the coldness, isolation and intimidation of dark, sharp corners.

An odd anachronism that desperately needs improvement.