Sometime last month, I packed a hipstery vintage suitcase and grabbed my camera (when I still had one) and headed to Birmingham. I was going to visit my friend. I had been to Birmingham once before. It was with my mum but I was young and I remember nothing. Being an unrepentant cynic, I expected not to like Birmingham. And so, I was happy with my cynical self when it looked like what I can only describe as one big construction site when I arrived.I started to miss Sheffield when I had to wait an inordinate amount of time (well, by Sheffield’s standards) at the taxi rank. Prior to that, I wandered around the train station taking pictures like an annoying tourist. I probably became annoying at some point because a nice construction worker offered to show me where the taxi rank was. He walked me all the way there…probably so that I wouldn’t return. Anyway, while I was waiting for a taxi, feeling bold and anonymous in this big city, I started a conversation with a woman waiting beside me. (This is a big deal. I never do things like this. I actually think I deserve an award) I smiled and said hello. Luckily she smiled back and I wasn’t left looking like some creep. Feeling reassured, I asked if she was waiting for a taxi but she wasn’t. She was waiting for her boyfriend who soon came and whisked her away. We said our goodbyes and finally, a taxi came. This is the rest of my Birmingham story in some pictures. Click to enlarge.
I ended up liking Birmingham. I was jealous of how cycle friendly it was and the cool tunnels.