Tag: Tyseley

October 29th – The day had been better, weather-wise; it was milder, and the rain had mostly stopped. The day had that never-quite-light feel about it, though, and the sunset at 4:45pm was ominous. Looking towards the city from Tyseley Station, central Birimingham seemed close enough to walk, but the railway signals strung out in an undulating line following the course of the track told a different story. I love that view, for all all it’s faults. Brum, you’re a rough dame but I wouldn’t be without you.

October 10th – I’ve been studying the detail of buildings lately. Small things. Architraves, chimneys, corbels, pediments, lintels. Airbricks, panels and frescos. Sills, doorways and sashes. There’s a huge variety of stuff in the everyday. In a quiet Tyseley backstreet, my gaze was caught by this ornate ventilation brick made from pressed terracotta in an otherwise plain factory wall. As I stopped to take a better look, I noticed the Ordnance Survey benchmark carved into the wall. A fixed datum at a measured height, these may not be used so much now, but they’re a real signal of permanence. 
The things you see with your eyes open… 

October 9th – At Moor Street, I was held up waiting for the train, and took a long shot down the platform to the south. I actually love this photo. It’s got Tyseley Incinerator – not far from my destination; Camp Hill church, and Bordesley church too. I love the way the tracks shine in the haze. This is my Birmingham, and pictures like this confirm why I love it so much.

September 26th – I’ve spent a lot of time in Tyseley lately, and I have an odd kind of love-hate relationship with the station. Tyseley, as Ive noted here before, is now a heavily industrialised area, and has a mixed air of quiet decay and frantic commerce. The station, with it’s GWR accoutrements and air of very faded splendour speaks of a time when this Birmingham suburb was more genteel and rail was king. Scruffy, rotting and largely unloved, the station sits like a drunken duchess, quiety getting drunk whilst dwelling on past glories in some last chance saloon. Willowherb and buddleia grow from gutters, walls and platforms; the roofs and canopies leak, and everything gives an air of decay. But somehow, I actually think I like the place.

September 12th – A poor day; I left home in the morning during a rain shower, and as I left work that afternoon in Tyseley, the heavens opened. There are few places greyer than Tyseley when it rains.  The showers were very localised, however, and on my return, the sun came out at Duddeston, but it was raining hard at Perry Barr.

Welcome to Britain, and the most fickle weather in the world. Come on you gits, where’s that Indian Summer you owe us?

August 30th – An odd day. I only had one thing to do – go and meet someone in Tyseley, Birmingham. I set off for the 9:20 train from Shenstone, but a fallen tree at Erdington stopped all services. So my easy day turned into a cycle your of Birmingham. I raced into the city through Sutton, Wylde Green and Erdington, hopped on the canal under Spaghetti Junction, pausing only to photograph the oddest, most scary scaffold tower setup I’d ever seen (Yes, that is on a raft, held on with a ratchet strap, no, I don’t know why either). I continued to Tyseley through the city centre on the canal, passing Camp Hill and the most unpleasantly surfaced canal footbridges I’ve ever experienced. On the way back, I called in at stops in Greets Green and Darlaston. I was knackered, frankly…

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 28th – An odd day with freak weather. I left for work in Darlaston early, and it was warm and quite sunny. At work for a couple of hours, the sky blackened and a real storm developed. I don’t think I’ve ever seen it rain so hard in the UK. Rivers flowed through the streets, causing flooding and chaos. Then, it ended almost as quickly as it started, and we returned to a nice, sunny day. In the afternoon, I had to go to Tyseley, and due to flooding, the trains were seriously disrupted. Arriving on time due to a freak of happenstance, I left late in the afternoon to find serious delays. I rode back to Birmingham through Small Heath, and got a train back to Blake Street. Traversing the back lanes of Stonnall and Little Aston was an interesting and somewhat wet experience.

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.