Jan and John Maggs Antiques

Our first visit to Birmingham

The Bullring: then and now

Sunday, October 10, 1993. Another splendid breakfast, and a nice way to mark our departure from London. We took the shuttle and the tube (by now we're beginning to feel like Londoners) to Euston Station, where we boarded a train bound for Birmingham. Because Sunday is the day work crews maintain the lines, the trip took longer than advertised. We traveled at speeds approaching 120 mph, and our smooth, relaxing ride was punctuated by recurring bursts of air pressure as approaching trains, traveling at similar speed, broke our air stream. Movement of passengers on the train is free and steady, and people visit the food concession in the car behind us. When one of them opens the door of our car in a tunnel, our ears pop under the momentary but intense compression.

We are given the option of switching trains at Litchfield to save the 30 minute swing to Wolverhampton. We board a noisy, bumpy, swaying local train which make several stops on its approximately 20 mile route, reminding one of US trains. Still, an enjoyable way of taking a journey in a strange place.

We arrived at New Street Station and call the Midland Hotel, which had been recommended by an American friend. A room will cost us ninety-nine pounds per night! We decide to inquire at the British Information Center, only to find that it is closed on Sundays. After seeking help from another information agency, we decide to look for a place on Hagley Road, where there are many small hotels offering bed and breakfast.

A taxi driver recommended and delivered us to the Prince Hotel, a stucco building on a dingy side street. Before being converted into a bed and breakfast, the building had probably been a modest, middle-class family home. Although we were told that our second-floor room was the largest bedroom in the building, we had scarcely three feet of space on each of the three sides of our Kmart-style brass four-poster. The room also contained a sink and shower, but our shared toilet was located down the hall.

Having eaten nothing since breakfast, we went for a walk, hoping to find a place for lunch. We reached a pleasant looking pub with its outer door ajar. When we inquired about the availability of food, we were told that food was not available and that British licensing laws prohibit the retail sale of alcohol between the hours of four and six on Sundays.

We decided to use this idle time to do a wash at the neighborhood laundry. Once we arrived, it appeared that everyone else had made the same decision. The hole in the wall with washers on one side, dryers on the other, and people in the middle was almost as crowded and smoky as Portobello Road.

We ate dinner at an Indian restaurant four doors away. Chicken Biryani for John with a curry of vegetables and spices, and chicken Korma with a sweet, creamy curry for Jan. Our dinner was accompanied by homemade nan -- crisp on one side, soft on the other, and delicious.

We went to bed at 9:15, anticipating a 5:00 a.m. alarm and early shopping at the Rag Market at Birmingham's historic Bullring. We slept lightly until around midnight, when the din outside and below finally subsided, then more deeply until about 4:50.

Monday, October 11. Too tired and discouraged to try to decipher the shower, John wears yesterday’s clothes and hair. After instant coffee in our room, we take the bus to the Rag Market, our principal reason for visiting Birmingham. The market is held indoors, and vendors and buyers wait in line until opening, when everyone enters together. The size and scope of the market, with only about 30 dealers, was quite disappointing, although the few things we found that were of interest were also quite cheap. However, most of what was on offer was, at the earliest, Victorian, and much was sheer junk. By 8:30 we were ready to leave -- and did.

Wishing to salvage the remainder of our visit to Birmingham, we decided to visit the Jewellery Quarter after lunch. We visited the retail market, where we bought French bread and Stilton and double Gloucester cheeses, planning to enjoy a ploughman’s lunch later in the day. We then found a Lloyd’s Bank and requested a cash advance of ₤3000 on our VISA card. Thanks to the involvement of a member of the staff, after only about 1½ hours of waiting for Telex, the advance was approved.

We picked up our rental car, not the Vauxhall we were expecting, but a Rover 214 SLi – black, five speed, stereo, sunroof, etc. – very stylish transport. Despite road construction and detours, we managed to drive back to our hotel, where we packed our bags and checked out. After several attempts to find the Jewelry Quarter, foiled repeatedly by our inability to relate street signs to the map provided by Avis, we found it: several streets lined with shops selling new and estate jewelry. Perhaps these shops will save the day.

We walked into a pub in the heart of the Quarter, where the bartender offered us samples of three excellent cask ales. We purchased pints of our favorite two, and then were allowed to eat our lunch ("Just don't tell anyone I said you could.") in a Tudor-ish dining hall on the second floor, with many tables, all clean and empty. There, in each other’s company, we enjoyed our ploughman’s.

After spending an hour or two in shops in the Jewelry Quarter, we returned to our car. As we departed for Broadway the skies began to darken, raising the threat of impending downpour. Our fears were well-founded; the 60-mile trip to Broadway was harrowing and exhausting for us both: John struggling to see the road and stay on the correct half of it, contending with pouring rain and greatly reduced visibility; Jan sensing his insecurity and navigating despite roadside objects whizzing by at irrational speeds and life-threatening closeness.

We arrived in Broadway at about 6 p.m., and drove along the strip of B&Bs until we found one that looked inviting. Entering the driveway, John walked to the door and met the host, on his way to dinner. We were told that, since they had no guests for the night, they had decided to go out, but if we had no luck finding another place to stay, we might return later and they would put us up.

We decided to have dinner before searching for a room, perhaps making phone inquiries from the restaurant. While making dinner reservations at The Swan, the man with whom we had spoken at the B&B approached us and suggested that we might join them after dinner. We agreed that this was a sensible plan, and after dinner returned to the house, where we spent a relaxing night.

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