We left KL in a nice new 777 just before midnight, but it was
after midnight in Australia so I will count it as day 2. We had Economy Comfort seats which cost extra
but were well worth it as we had no-one in front and I was able to get a little
sleep. Frances did quite well. The first four hours were a bit bumpy and
involved at least one major kink in the flight path to go round a storm in the
Bay of Bengal.
At one point there was a
call for ''a medical doctor to the rear of the plane” and after someone walked
past from Business Class a crew member appeared with a rather large first aid
kit.
We were both awake as dawn tried to catch up with us over the
Ukraine, but daylight didn't really arrive until well West of Berlin. When breakfast had been served one of the
crew announced that “we are still in German airspace ...” which was an
interesting way of saying we aren't in Holland yet. When we did get to Holland it looked very
damp and mist was rolling in from the sea. Not a great snap, but it was grey and misty.
As were
other things: this array of souvenirs quickly set up an unbreakable lead in the
bad taste award (all categories).
We basically sat around for nearly three hours waiting for our flight to Birmingham: since Schiphol offers a free internet service that wasn't too hard. We then caught a bus out to our plane (an Embraer jet) which involved a drive that, had the sea not got in the way, would have just about got us to Clacton.
The flight was pretty much up and down, taking 50
minutes. We got a good view of some Dutch towns where the developments seemed to have been designed to make nice shapes when seen from 3km above!.
Two middle aged pommie "lads" were behind us talking incessantly about their work with mining companies in
various dodgy parts of Africa. It was
quite interesting – for example “I wouldn't want to live in Birmingham City:
its better in Africa.”, which wasn't said by the one who worked in Kigali - but rather intrusive.
When I got a look at them on leaving the flight I'd say they were both
quite hard blokes: built like brick outhouses, skinhead haircuts and in one
case a good crop of tatts.
Unlike Holland the fields were very undisciplined. It was rare for there to be one straight side
let alone 4 at right angles to each other.
After landing we went to the terminal and my guess is that we were out
of there in about 20 minutes. It would
have been quicker but the immigration guy was very chatty and I was in polite
mode. A very helpful lad in the
information centre (a big comeback after the shambles of their website outlined above) pointed us to the hotel; explained how to get to the City
Centre (train is the go); and provided maps!
Check in at the Hotel (Novotel) resulted in us upgrading our
room to get in straight away. Getting
the review of the Hotel out of the way I rated it rather good: the staff were
all helpful, it was very quiet and the food good.
We caught the shuttle train to Birmingham International
Station from where British Midland took us into the City Centre (New
Street). Yet again the ticket seller was
helpful and efficient – what has happened to the traditional English Jobsworth
work ethic? Unfortunately, the Nanny
Society has survived Tony Blair - I read a book by Jeremy Clarkson later in the trip in which he refers to "His Tonyness" - so the train ride was accompanied by various and continual warnings to “mind the gap” “don't leave belongings unattended” “Read the
security notices”.
Our travels around Birmingham took us first past an arcade with an ornate ceiling
and then to Victoria
Square where many of the public artworks were to be found. These included the “floozie in the jacuzzi”
and Anthony Gormley's Iron
Man.
The Art Gallery ...
... was also there and
yet again was notable for a lack of Jobsworths.
All staff were helpful - and not just to us: I saw a security guard find
a chair for a guy who was sketching Using A PENCIL!!!- and photography was
welcome everywhere except a special exhibition and the Staffordshire
Hoard. So here are a couple of samples
As well as these traditional works there were some modernish stuff (although this by "Rock Drill" by Jacob Epstein comes from 1915 so emphasises the 'ish'.
and this collection reflects the industrial nature of the Midlands
The ban in the Hoard may be to promote book sales or possibly to
reflect its shared ownership (with another gallery). This was an astonishing collection of gold
jewellery and artefacts found in a ploughed field in 2009 by a guy using a
metal detector. I think he ended up
scoring £3m for it! Well done that
boy! It seems they are still working on
it (eg one item was found last year embedded in a lump of clay) but have not
been able to decide why it was deposited.
Great graffiti on the Public Library
... and I liked this building, and its contrast with the glass brick beside it, enough to photograph it.
and there weren't too many signs begging for money. I took a photo of a set of Memorial plaques
although I probably won't submit them to the Register of NSW War Memorials). That being said, my interest having been stirred by NSW Memorials I did find looking for memorials added a fair bit of interest to the trip. The design of them varied greatly and some of them told interesting stories so I have created a special post - or possibly 2 - in this blog to hold information that didn't fir with the overall narrative.
We weaved our way past this wicker statue
to the Catholic Cathedral which was
designed by Pugin, the father of the Gothic Revival in the mid-19th
Century. Unfortunately 'Security' meant
you couldn't take snaps. I asked a lady
why not and she said “I don't know; It was the Dean's idea so ask him if you can
find him.” Obviously the Dean has attracted all the jobsworthiness of
Staffordshire and I convivially wish him the best of luck. See also a Pugin-related comment under Shrewsbury some days below.
We briefly visited a Waitrose (as Stephen Fry has commented,
kept clear of scum by the activities of Sainsbury's) to get something to eat
for tea and some bottled goods. Back to
the hotel to try to stay awake. I failed
and was asleep by 3pm Brum time (1am Carwoola time) in which state I remained
until about 3am Brum time the next morning.
I was surprised to find that there was very little of what I regard as the traditional Brum accent to be heard and no-one said 'each' anywhere in my presence. Possibly this was because most of the folk we spoke with were of NESB.
Back to the Index page
Bird of the Day: Jackdaw at Schipol (first European bird of the trip). A Peewit seen as we took off gave it a run as it was the only one seen all trip while Jackdaws were in flcoks of 50 aroundTugford, but first in, best dressed.
Building of the day: Birmingham Art Gallery
Garden of the Day: No contenders
Bad taste of the Day: Ceramic clogs in Schiphol
View of the Day: Nothing really startling but I have grown rather alarmingly fond of the mixed shapes and colours of fields in English farmland.Back to the Index page
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