Tag: Walsall

October 22nd – The trains were lousy again, so I opted for a day in Darlaston instead, so I didn’t have to catch any. The commute was evil – raining, wet with really, really bad visibility. I was shocked to see so many drivers without lights – which makes spotting them over your shoulder in these conditions difficult. At Scarborough Road, in Pleck, the trees of this interwar period avenue are beautifully golden, and they cheered me. But the day remained grim.. I think it’s in for the week…

October 18th – For the first time in ages, I was in Darlaston. I also had to pop into Brownhills on my way, so I pottered up to Pelsall and on to Walsall via NCN 5 – the National Cycle Route. It was a lovely ride to work, but the southerly headwind was a tad sharp for my liking. I guess readers must be getting fed up of the cliched autumn pictures by now, but today, my beloved Black Country looked gorgeous. Escaping early, I popped into the Arboretum at Walsall to check out the colour. At 4pm, it was all but deserted, which I found surprising. It really is lovely there. Get up there before it’s too late…

October 16th – It’s all about the autumn colour right now. I was going to split these images down into two separate posts, but they’re all the same set, really. It’s been gusty and chilly, and the leaves have really started to fall now. I noticed council workmen sweeping them up in Acocks Green, and they’re turning even the most mundane alleyways into emerald gold arcades. How fantastic is autumn? Beautiful – but winter is such a price to pay…

October 13th – As if to hammer home my point, Town Wharf, across the basin from the New Art Gallery. This is a new hotel. It looks like something thrown up in Tito’s Yugoslavia. It’s hideous, cheap and nasty. It opens in a couple of weeks – why not come and stay? Affording excellent views of the derelict and burnt out factory over the water, it’s sure to be a big tourist draw…

Walsall deserves so much better than this shit.

October 13th – My town, for better or worse.

I have a strange relationship with Walsall these days. Pass through it regularly, love almost all of it, but bits I used to know like the back of my hand are now alien to me. Certainly, shopping there is a grim experience these days. I was in town anyway, and wanted to see the Damien Hirst exhibition at the New Art Gallery. I like Hirst a lot, but the exhibition left me cold – I really wanted to see stuff like Mother and Child Divided again, yet what was here seemed to be the odds and ends of the artist’s work. The way it had been mixed in with the Garman Ryan collection was clever, though, and I did admire the guile of the people responsible for doing that, particularly the placement of the wallpaper.

I hadn’t been in the Gallery for a long while, and not on the roof terrace since the building opened a decade before, as when I’d visited, it had always been shut. Today, it was open, and I took photographs of my town – the place I once haunted like a skinny, music-obsessed ghost. I knew every shop, every bar, every alleyway, every cafe. Yet getting older dragged me away, and Walsall befell the same fate as other such post-industrial towns; ravaged by the inexorable rise of out-of-town and fringe retail developments, atrocious town planning and the encroachment of internet shopping,  it now holds little for me. The independent shops have gone, replaced by nail-bars, hairdressers, pound shops and money lenders. Many of the heritage buildings I could see from this view ten years ago are gone, lost to the arsonists that seem intent on depriving us of a cultural past. The bad planning goes on, the retail sheds obscuring or wrecking formerly decent vistas.

I still love this place with all my heart – as Bill Caddick put it, ‘Sore abused, but not yet dead’, but I fear I’m losing it forever. What’s gone, cannot be put pack, and there just doesn’t seem to be the breadth of vision, or cast of hand to build something new. Stuck in a kind of decay-limbo. I could cry.

I did what I always do at times when Walsall, and my past, makes me feel like this: I got back on my bike, cycled up to Caldmore, and reminded myself what community was about.

That’s my Walsall, right there.

September 25th – After a bright start, I’d braced myself for a very, very grim commute home, the forecast was awful. As it happened though, it was just drizzly wet, and the wind was behind me. I think I must be getting inured, but I haven’t noticed webs developing between my toes yet. Coming up the ramp at Walsall, I looked, as I often do, at the overhead supply catenary for the railway. The complexity of this system fascinates me, and today, I could hear it crackle and buzz in the wet. Years of design refinement have made this system generally very weatherproof, and that’s a remarkable thing. The 25,000 volts coursing over that metalwork doesn’t take prisoners and will arc long distances in the damp. Railway people are given to calling the overheads ‘knitting’, and you can see why. 

September 19th – I wasn’t feeling lucky, but it seemed fortune was on my side. I came back to Walsall on the train, and rain ominously flecked the windows. Emerging into the light, the rain – which I was dreading, with no waterproofs – hadn’t reached Walsall. I raced home, the sky to the north east getting darker and darker. Arriving home dry, I was feeling rather smug… But as it happened, the threatening skies never delivered, so I was safe after all.

September 13th – On my way home tonight, I popped to Asda in Walsall for a change. On my way out, I noticed that the old Highgate Brewery Stores, on the corner of George Street was still derelict. I find this very sad; it must have been vacant for at least 4 years now. In my youth, I used to attend gigs here and had some great nights; back then, it was called the ‘Punch and Judy’. It’s a crying shame, because with the right ownership, I think it could be special again.

September 9th – I’d attended the Bandstand Marathon event in Walsall Arboretum, and had a great time. What made the occasion wonderful was it’s relaxed nature, with people drifting in and out and from place to place within Walsall Arboretum as the mood took them. Also wonderful was the fact that bikes were allowed. This led to a good bit of bike watching on my part, as I always welcome the chance to eye up another rider’s steed. It was late in the afternoon when I spotted this fine tandem. I didn’t get to see who owned it, but what a fine thing it is… there simply aren’t enough tandems being ridden these days.