I have been a massive fan of rock music since my early teens. My uncle had an enormous LP collection (he worked in TV production so perhaps received freebies) and during a family visit he invited me to choose one to take home. I came away with Glory Road by a band called Gillan. Not a bad start!
Gillan were named after lead singer Ian, former frontman with the mighty Deep Purple. The group had a fair bit of success in the early 80s before Ian returned to the Purple fold. On guitar was the excellent Bernie Tormé who passed away recently and had the unenviable task of temporarily replacing the great Randy Rhoads in Ozzy Osbourne's band. Randy had tragically lost his life in a plane crash and Ozzy of course began his career on the back streets of Birmingham with Black sabbath.
Yes, you encounter a lot of tangled roots once you start investigating rock family trees and you may already detect a rather anorak-type approach on my part. Gillan was my entry point to the world of hard rock. The appetite was further whetted by the acquisition of singles from acts such as Motorhead and Saxon - purchased with birthday record tokens. My folks also played an unwitting role, permitting me to borrow the occasional cassette from the library on their account, whereby I discovered Iron Maiden and Meatloaf. It was however the Sabs who became the first band I followed in terms of building an album collection. I walked three miles to Woolworth's to kick-start my vinyl-buying habit.
Fast forward 30-odd years and I learn of a major Sabbath exhibition taking place in their home city of Birmingham. My initial reaction was succinct - I must go. Never having explored the area before, I thought I might as well spend a few days in Brum and see what our second-largest city has to offer. I booked myself a return coach journey, three nights in a hostel and an online ticket for the event. Something to look forward to over the summer. I took the Glasgow bus from my village to hook up with the direct National Express service to Birmingham. I flashed my smartphone ticket at the driver and grabbed a seat. I haven't done a great deal of long-distance bus travel, but enough to realise a comfort stop is included somewhere down the line. It was an added bonus when the driver pulled into Tebay Services in Cumbria. This place has a huge selection of local produce for sale, including pies and ale. I found space in my rucksack for a couple of bottles. Something to enjoy in the hostel over the stay. I had plenty to read: the new Irvine Welsh novel on my Kindle, a paperback biography of guitar legend Mick Ronson and a couple of obligatory train mags. Eventually we rolled into Digbeth Coach Station. I knew the hostel was just a short walk up the road and I'd already scouted out a real-ale pub around the corner. Two pints of a fine local bitter and then time to check in. Now, this was my first visit to a city-centre backpackers establishment. I've stayed in many rural bunkhouses and hostels. Nicole and I often prefer this option to a hotel. You can keep costs down by cooking your own food and there's always someone to have a blether with. The prefix "youth" certainly no longer applies as most guests - at least in the country - seem to be middle aged. I did expect a different demographic in a bustling city but as I was arriving on a Monday, I hoped to avoid the weekend party crowd.
It was a friendly and fairly chilled place. Large comfortable common room, small but functional kitchen and a four-bed dormitory. At £15 per night, I certainly couldn't complain. A higher proportion of younger people but curiously quiet. Most folk seemed glued to their devices! I did strike up a couple of conversations but was happy to plug into some Sabbath sounds and set the mood. The hostel offered free toast for breakfast which was most welcome. Off I headed for the Birmingham Museum which was just a 10-minute walk in the direction of the famed Bullring. I passed a large fruit & veg market on the way and proceeded to Victoria Square, currently a building site as tram tracks are being laid through the city centre. Fortified by a last-minute pork pie, I hit the exhibition at my allotted time of 10.30, although I could easily have turned up and paid on the door. I had read the event focussed solely on the original incarnation of the band and that no space was devoted to later frontmen such as Ronnie Dio (and indeed Ian Gillan!). This was clearly explained at the entrance. The exhibition paid tribute to the four Brummies who founded Black Sabbath and how the city gave birth to heavy metal. Fair enough - absolutely no problem with that! I enjoyed browsing the displays and watching extensive video interviews with Ozzy, Tony, Geezer and Bill. One gallery played the breakthrough Paranoid album on a continuous loop (perhaps a different release was featured each day?). Even though I'd heard the songs countless times, the Sabbath themed surroundings leant them an extra dimension and I found myself listening intently. The exhibition literature rightly pointed out that the style of music pioneered by Sabbath became a worldwide cultural export for Birmingham and questioned whether this was properly recognised by the city's leaders. Among all the Sabs memorabilia were a few artefacts relating to Ozzy's solo career. This served to broaden the appeal of the exhibition as the Ozzman later became a household name in his own right.
Two hours later, I emerged thoroughly delighted that I'd made the effort to come down. I wanted to have a look at the rest of the museum - which was free. I particularly enjoyed the galleries dedicated to the history of Birmingham. Another undoubted highlight was the complete Staffordshire Hoard - the largest haul of Anglo Saxon gold and silver ever found. By this time it was lashing rain outside and I knew I'd have to literally make a dash to my next destination - the Wellington real ale pub which lay a couple of streets away. A quick consultation of Google Maps fixed the route in my mind and off I splashed. A dozen handpumps greeted me and I proceeded to sample. The pub doesn't serve any food (although you are welcome to bring your own) - it is dedicated to ale, pure and simple. What a place! After a few pints I decided my next move would be to a Chinese buffet. I trooped down to the Oriental Quarter and found a restaurant that cost £15.99 per person, which was reasonable considering the fine spread on offer. A memorable day and it mattered not a jot that I was rather bedraggled upon arriving back at my digs. I still had a couple of days ahead of me and set off the following morning to tour the main sights of the city centre. Birmingham is a curious mixture of old and new. I particularly liked the old fashioned feel of Gas Street Canal Basin and the modern Centenary Square. I was starting to get my bearings and pushed outwards along the canal to link up with an old railway trail that I'd researched beforehand. I passed the two brick towers on Waterworks Road, said to be the inspiration for Tolkien's book title. The author lived in the city as a lad. I had of course planned some of these routes in advance but sometimes random pavement bashing also bears fruit.
I chanced upon the Birmingham Walk of Stars - a series of paving stones inscribed with names of famous Brummies. Jasper Carrot, Noddy Holder and Murray Walker to name but three. Interesting enough, but nothing to compare with Black Sabbath Bridge which spans the canal. A commemorative bench features cut-outs of the original band members. I had read about this previously but it had slipped my mind. My three nights in the hostel were up but I still had another day in the city as my bus didn't leave until 2230. I decided to take a couple of short train trips and treated myself to a full English breakfast in a local Digbeth café. I wondered why the area was allowed to look so shabby. Lots of overflowing trade waste bins. Surely not too difficult to clean up? I headed out to the preserved suburb of Bourneville - home to the Cadbury chocolate empire. I gave Cadbury World a miss as it's more of a kiddie attraction and instead checked out the excellent Selly Manor Museum - housed within a beautiful 16th-century timber-framed building. It was preserved by George Cadbury who acquired the place in 1907. The modest admission fee was a few pounds well spent. I liked the charming layout of the surrounding streets and it was a lovely area to stroll around, featuring many quirky dwellings.
Back to the remodelled New Street Station which has a huge shopping complex on the upper tier and a link to the bullring via a glass walkway. All very futuristic. You enter colour-coded departure lounges after passing through the ticket barriers on your way to the platforms. Plenty seating is available which is a nice touch, as are the water bottle refilling points. Glad to see them slowly spreading around the country. I then headed in another direction to Aston, the spiritual home of Black Sabbath although the area has changed out of all recognition since the 1960s. The stately mansion Aston Hall is an impressive sight and the football stadium Villa Park is close by. I had a look at both locations but unfortunately the rain began to fall, in contrast to Bournville which had been sunny. Eventually I rocked up at the bus station for the long trip back to Scotland. I didn't get much sleep on the coach but that's not so much of a problem when you are homeward bound. I arrived in Glasgow at quarter past six and jumped on the first bus to Fife. What a wonderful few days away!
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