January 28th – And this is the thing with Darlaston – it takes your breath away. It was around 5:20pm, not yet properly dark, and the view through Victoria Park over the mystic bridge was just superb.
I’m a Brownhills lad, through and through – but I do love this place too. It has heart, and soul, and surprising corners when you get to know it. Just like Brownhills.
These are my places, and here my heart will always lie.
Thankfully, the camera got its act together for this one…
January 22nd – I returned from Walsall early evening, in a better frame of mind. It was cold, for sure, but it wasn’t a bad night overall. Station Street and it’s taxi rank always looks good at night, with surprisingly good architecture if one looks closely.
The Square outside the crossing at St Paul’s is also good in the dark, the lights of the bank and The Imperial Pub look welcoming and warm.
January 22nd – I passed through New Street mid-afternoon. The whole place was grey. It’s still chaos, and has been clearly designed with anything but the passengers in mind.
I stood waiting for a late train. Ever signal I could see was red. Sometimes, commuting feels like this.
To quote Dexy’s, tell me when my red light turns green.
January 17th – Rotate ninety degrees sunwise from the bell tower, and there’s Darwall Street in a precious golden hour. This is the risibly named ‘Civic Quarter’ which, as home to several large bars, is more properly thought of as the centre for Walsall’s night time economy.
Ignoring the odd aberration, most buildings here are historic and repurposed; an old cinema – The Imperial – is now a pub, as is the former Registry Office. Walsall swapped certificate and celluloid for a pie and a pint.
Apart from the jarring paving and hideous street lights, this is a nice spot, with plenty of history and physical geography not too far away.
Behind the buildings on the left, the Ford Brook leaves cover and skulks through town in the open for a short while, often stinking the place out. It’s a major tributary of the Tame, and will never lead to Walsall threatening the tourist trade of Bourton on the Water.
It’s not a bad town, really. Just badly misunderstood. Sadly, most grievously by many who live here.
January 17th – Passing through Walsall on an errand in the afternoon, I looked at something that’s ever-present, yet I seldom pay attention to; the Town Hall bell tower. Rumours say it was supposed to be a clock tower, but was never designed as such and is home to a carillon of bels, which sound rather splendid.
Faded, faintly gothic and well built, like much of Walsall, it’ll scrub up just fine one day. It’s also home to a pair of peregrines, who loaf their days out in all the local high spots dropping pigeon remnants on the townspeople below.
Excellent birds.
January 13th – I know these are poor quality pictures, but I hope you’ll forgive me just this once because they show something astonishing: it’s a kingfisher, by the canal. That on its own is notable, but not remarkable; however this fellow was just in the bushes overhanging the Walsall Canal next to the Scarborough Road Bridge in Pleck, Walsall.
If Walsall were a city, we could call this place inner city; it’s one of the most densely populated parts of town, and not the kind of place one would expect to see such a glorious bird.
These were very hurried, very long range shots (30x zoom) on a dark, overcast day in a rain shower. A Community Payback team were working not 20 metres away.
This is stunning to me. I never thought I’d see such a thing in a place like that.
A real find on a very grey day.
January 6th – I’d not noticed this before. On the canal near Darlaston, a high factory wall, and by some twist of nature, soot and the wind, a pair of buddleia plants, slowly and tenaciously taking the brickwork part by the action of gentle and sustained hydraulic pressure alone.
Although it’s destructive, I love to see this; nature reclaiming the constructed. It’s nice to see nature winning occasionally.
January 2nd – Today, I was at a loose end. Things hadn’t come together well, and I felt miserable and disconnected, but I got my rug together and headed into Lichfield at dusk. It rewarded me beautifully – I love the Christmas lights here; even more poignant at the close of the festive season. It’s amazing how poncing about with a camera and creating a little can cheer you up.
For those counting, it’s the third anniversary of riding 365 days a year. I actually started the project in April, 2011 in order to ride every day of the 30 days of that April, mainly to stop fellow twitter cyclist Renee Van Baar from nagging me about it. At the end of that month, i was enjoying the thing so much I carried on, and vowed to make it 365 days.
Sadly, over the new year of 2011/12, I suffered bad food poisoning, and was off the bike for two days. I was gutted, and so feeling cheated, I started again. Today was the third anniversary of that resolution.
I often agonise over to whether I continue this, and I welcome reader opinion, so please do comment; but this journal is so much part of what I do on a bike every day now that it would be hard to stop. The readership continues to grow; over 5,100 followers.
Statistics for this year gone have been a total distance of 9,296 miles. That’s still about 25½ miles a day. A remarkable total of 14,446 photos have been taken. On the journal so far, there have been 3,028 posts. I have cycled continuously, every day, for 1095 days.
In total, the journal has run for 1,368 days from the start, and something in just shy of 35,000 miles. Think about that; I’ve cycled every day, rain, snow, wind or shine of the last 1,368 days, all except 2. I’m proud of that.
I guess I proved a middle aged, ordinary geezer with a fondness for cake and tea can do this.
Thank you for riding it with me. As long as people are enjoying this, I’ll keep doing it.
Your comments are, as ever, welcome, even if it’s just to tell me to shut the hell up…
December 22nd – A day at work in Darlaston, then nipping into Brum on an errand. New Street Station is mad at this time of year, and the lousy revamp is crippling passenger flows. Stood at the end of the platform for blessed space waiting for the train to be made available, I took a couple of shots. I love the differing lights here, the colours, surfaces, angles and textures.
I guess most folk would dismiss it as ugly, but I think it’s curiously beautiful.
November 21st – Thank goodness it’s Friday. Another dreadful, rain sodden commute, but peculiarly, it’s still not getting to me.
Having to nip back to Walsall Wood, I stopped to capture the lights and madness of the traffic.
I normally dread the sadness and loss I feel at this time of year. This time, it’s just not arrived. This pleases and puzzles me. But there is something beautiful about the lights and the water, I guess…
BrownhillsBob's #365daysofbiking 