I've belatedly discovered that Birmingham is a city of delightful surprises. Having never visited, I’d always imagined a concrete jungle made infamous by the “Bull Ring”. And then rail travel arrangements between Carlisle and Reading changed, requiring a break of journey at New Street Station. Spending a large proportion of my working life on teleconference meetings, the city centre has become a convenient place to undertake calls free of “the train leaving platform 5a…” type announcements. On my search for quiet locations among the concrete, the city has revealed its secrets of canals and monuments, factories, galleries, libraries and churches
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