November 28th – First decently sunny, clear morning for weeks. It was cold, though. The trains seemed stuffed again, so I cycled from the city centre, over Camp Hill to Tyseley. At the railway bridge next to the station, I took in the city skyline in decent light. Amazing how much of it is really quite new. It’s all here: Beetham Tower, Masshouse, The Hiatt, The Cube. Lovely. My city, my future.
November 26th – Returning from Tyseley, the alternation flip-flopped again; it was raining. The drizzle was reasonably light, though, and I stopped to admire the view from the bridge. Winging it, I stood the camera on the Wharfdale Lane bridge parapet, and zoomed in on the city skyline over the train yard. I’m quite surprised at the result. The image is noisy, but I think I like it. Talk about unexpected beauty…
November 21st – At around 3 o’clock the weather made a sudden about-turn. The sky cleared, the air lightened. Crucially, the rain stopped, and for a brief hour, the sun came out and made the industrial backstreets of Tyseley steam. Heading home at dusk, I stopped to admire the sunset. Maybe that’s why I do this, after all.
November 9th – The day was very grey indeed, and the train service lousy. Bad weather had been predicted for the evening commute, and with cancellations and slow running all round, I left work half an hour early. We’re in the days now of the nascent winter; grey, smoggy air, partial drizzle and heavy cloud makes for a greasy, unreal, not-quite-daylight feel. This is the worst bit of winter for me; not cold enough to be dramatic, or photogenic, or even challenging to ride in, but just headache-grey mundanity, rumbling from day to day. Stuff this, bring on some real winter, please. Snow, or crisp frosty mornings with bright air that hurts your forehead and clutches your chest when you breathe in.
The only thing that looks good in the is murk is the light of the railway. Steady, bright, control.
November 6th – I came upon this remarkable building yesterday, completely by accident. Taking a wrong turn in the industrial backstreets of Tyseley, Birmingham, I found Hay Hall, one of the few remnants of Medieval architecture in the city. It’s got excellent chimney pots, too. Wikipedia has this to say:
A moated house or manor was first founded at the site in about 1260 by the De La Haye family. Hay Hall passed on to the Este family in 1423, when the heiress Marian De La Haye, married Thomas Este. They are commemorated in St. Edburgha’s Church atYardleyby a wall sculpture depicting them. The Este family owned and occupied Hay Hall until the late seventeenth century after which the property changed hands frequently. In 1917, when thePatented Butted Tube Company purchased Hay Hall and a surrounding 13 acres of land. The estate was developed into new tube works and factories but fortunately Hay Hall was saved from demolition.
The last person to actually reside at Hay Hall was apparently a Mrs Shelley who was employed as a housekeeper by the then rebranded Tube Investments Company, and was known to be living in the Hall up until 1939. In 1948 the building was fully restored and is currently in use as private offices for the Reynolds Tube Company Limited
I’m not sure if Reynolds still own it – the sign outside says ‘Air Link’, but it’s very hard to convey just how industrial the area around it is. Utterly incongruous, and rather lovely.
November 5th – On a cold morning in Tyseley, the euphemistically named ‘Energy Recovery Facility’ – or in plain English, refuse incinerator – can be seen operating at full tilt. People think that’s smoke emanating from the flue, but it’s not, the plume is steam condensing in the cold air. This facility has twin furnaces, and generates enough electricity to power the local area. Burning refuse is a 24 hour operation, and feeding the voracious appetite of the incinerators are a constant flow of lorries, which give the whole district a characteristic smell. Unsavoury, but necessary.
November 5th – The cafe is an essential part of any industrial area. Serving the needs of workers for butties, breakfasts and baps, these temples to unhealthy food and strong tea take many forms. This corner Cafe on the Tyseley/Acocks Green border is a recently refurbished gem, and a real classic of the art. Sat right on a corner, replete with frosted glass so your boss can’t see you skiving, I bet it does a great fry. Just right to keep the inner warmth going on a frosty, raw morning.
November 1st – Tyseley, the gift that keeps on giving. Yes, I know, two days running. The sunset was dramatic tonight, and it was nearing perfection as I crossed the bridge to enter the station. On the platform, the sunset behind Greet church was far more vibrant than it had been the day before. Autumn, and it’s ever-changing moods. After a thoroughly miserable, wet commute to work in the morning, this evening’s fiery beauty was a tonic. It felt very chilly, though.
October 31st – A grim commute home. The scent of rain had been in the air all day, and in the afternoon, the showers grew more frequent and intense. At Tyseley, I listened to the rain on the roof with a heavy heart. I don’t mind commuting jun the rain too much, but there was a keen wind and with the dark evenings upon us, enjoyment was likely to be thin on the ground.
Having missed my train, I waited at a near deserted Tyseley station for the next service. It was dry, but dingy and darkness was falling. This odd little place really has got a hold on me. I’m fascinated by the dark decay of the station, it’s unexplained wooden screens (seemingly doubling as urinals these days) and mock-victorian fittings. It’s quite the oddest station I’ve used; it should feel desolate and threatening, but doesn’t. I can’t work out why it’s fascinating me so much.
October 30th – It was a reasonable sunset again, but today, the colour and cloud seemed more to the west than the evening before. From my vantage point at the end of the station, I could see the church tower in Greet. Sunsets like this are why autumn was invented…
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