Walking Backwards for the Waterfall
The official Rail Trails stop at Stourbridge to restart at Shirley. The powers that be decided that there is nothing worth walking on the stations in-between. I know better — and with an OS map and Google Maps with pubs of interest plotted, I fashion something of interest from Langley Green to Old Hill.
Going backwards to finally get the Holdens pub tick at the Waterfall. Friday sees standard pub opening hours.
Exiting Langley Green, I find the only "green" space on the map. I should say blue — the 1-mile Titford Canal, reaching a dead end at the M5, which I discover is built on water.
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| I knew he made rice |
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| The M5 — surprisingly built on water |
No avoiding the roads to get back to Old Hill. A plod to ponder why drug dealers wear such obvious uniforms: grey velour tracksuits with designer man bags.
For entertainment, I have the twin activities of finding a barber’s shop and pubs — both old and new.
A repeat visit to The Britannia, at Rowley Regis. Like a ninja, I press the pedestrian crossing to arrive at the exact moment the bolt of the door scrapes open. I’m always a little suspicious of the first pint pulled of the day, but the Bass settled into perfect condition as the pub filled up with workies getting ready for a bank holiday weekend.
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| Pub and brewery |
A monster 22 Pub (Alan Winfield lives!) on Bartrek alerted me to The Last Jar. Conveniently situated opposite a barbers, staffed only by mutes. I wouldn’t have minded, but I had rehearsed the answer to where I was going on my holidays. The pub itself was a former barbers and is now a split-level micropub. An excellent Green Duck Stronghold bitter, flawlessly presented — not a bubble in the glass and a perfect colour.
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| Micropub ticking in Blackheath |
Finally, I time The Waterfall to be open, having previously been forced to walk past on its usual closed afternoons. A long-standing project to visit all their tied pubs gets another tick.
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| All downhill to the station |
Unexpectedly, Bathams is available. I have never seen Holdens in one of their tied pubs. Maintaining brand loyalty, I ordered a Holdens Black Country Special, only to find it required changing — allowing me to have what I really wanted. The friendly landlady assured me the locals say she keeps it better than in the King Arthur.
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