14 July 2016 - Chapel Lane Caravan Club site, Wythall near Birmingham

The weather (always the weather here in England) was just perfect for a walking day in the city, so we packed our lunch and drove to Whitlocks End, parked uneventfully, bought our return tickets at £5.50 each and hurried onto the train sitting in the station after asking the driver if it were the right one. Twenty minutes later we disembarked and passed through Moore Street Station, with no one checking our tickets and the electronic gates wide open.

Birmingham, Britain’s second largest city, was spawned by the Industrial Revolution, and grew in the 19^th century into one of the world’s biggest workshops. The first steam powered pump was invented and used in the coal mines in the area, and with fuel on the doorstep, Birmingham was a centre of metalwork of all kinds.

The last coal mine in the area closed in 1968, several of the motorcycle and car factories closed down in the depression years of the early 1930s, and the import of products from the Asian power houses has served the death knell of these industries over the past few decades. The reputation of the city has not been helped by the depiction of crime and poverty, crummy tenement buildings and ethnic violence on film over the years. One is more likely to hear negative reports rather than positives from further afield about the city, and the recent reports of over 70,000 Muslims turning out in Heath Park to celebrate Eid earlier this month draw attention to the fact that this is a very multicultural city.

The centre of old Birmingham is The Bull Ring, where a market has been held since the 12^th century and still occurs six days a week. Subways and glass corridors link the various sections of the modern shopping centre.

Gas Street Basin

Slap bang in the middle of this ultra-modern complex sits St Martin’s, a Grade II listed church built relatively recently, in British speak, in 1873. It is an example of Gothic Victorian architecture designed by Alfred Chatwin, from Birmingham, who also worked on the Houses of Parliament. We were drawn to the interior by the Burne-Jones stained glass window, which narrowly missed being bombed during the Second World War. 

Remaining in the same religious vein, we walked through to the grounds of the Anglican Cathedral Church of Saint Philip and found a spot in the sunshine to eat our lunch. Once fed and watered, we checked out the interior of this too. The exterior had not impressed us at all, but conversely we were quite delighted on entering.  Here too, Burne-Jones was responsible for the stained glass windows, although these were installed when extensions were done in the 1880s.

New Street Station beyond construction barriers

From here we set off toward the canal precinct, through the attractive Victoria Square where there was an exhibition of fabulous photos taken from the air being set up, titles Britain from the Air. Unfortunately we could only lean out over the rope barrier and see some of these. They would make for a wonderful coffee table book.

Then on we went, diverted around massive construction works, past the fenced off Centenary Square, arriving at the Gas Street Basin. 

Birmingham apparently has more waterways than Venice, its canal systems built in the 18^th and 19^th centuries to provide water transport into the heart of the city, and consists of several converging waterways; the Worcester – Birmingham Canal and the Birmingham – Fazeley Canal, with the Grand Union meeting up with the latter and the Digbeth Branch linking up a little distance from the centre.

The Green Man

We delighted in walking along the canals, past dozens of cafes and bars, then on to the Mailbox, a very smart revamped post sorting building, now hotels, and more cafes and bars and even smarter boutiques selling to the rich or materialistic.

We spent time in the markets, both indoor and out, purchased great blocks of cheese for a fraction of what one would pay in the supermarket, and happened upon the BHS in its death throes where we picked up a wonderful new rain jacket for Chris at half the marked price.

Chinatown turned out to be a bit of a disappointment, although had we been looking to dine a la Chinois or wanting to throw our money away at a casino, we probably would have been well served. However the Custard Factory some distance to the west of the city centre in the Digbeth area turned out to be quite a quirky surprise.

Classy graffitti undergoing scrutiny

While we had been enormously pleased to find the city centre vibrant with smart Brummies, of all colour and cultural bent, we found the road to the Custard Factory revealed the sadder and sorrier side of Birmingham; graffiti, shabby beggars, who were incidentally all white, and equally shabby buildings.

The Custard Factory complex is set in fifteen acres of factory buildings, once the home of Bird’s Custard, a favourite of Chris’s mother by all accounts. The factory relocated to Banbury in 1964, and the site was left in an abandoned state. In 1992 the buildings were revamped and are now home to a thriving community of creative and digital businesses, independent shops and cafes and bars. It is still rather alternative and does not have the sharp edge of other cafes and bars seen about the city earlier in the day. One of the shops advertises graffiti classes, which probably says it all. We were quite fascinated by a sculpture in one of the access ways of the Green Man, a twelve metre high sculpture by Tawny Gray, made of vegetation and stone.

The sun stayed around all day, even if spending parts of the day dodging behind the clouds. I had donned a summer skirt before setting out, and did not feel out of place. However I am not sure that the opportunity of such dress will arise during the rest of the week.