Café Rouge at the Bull Ring

Day three in Birmingham and I am beginning to appreciate properly this exciting city. It is after all, number two after London in the UK, and has a long and fascinating history which I am about to experience at the Art Museum today. But first, more important than art, I have to buy another pair of shoes as yesterday my feet began to ache, not the right walking shoes I'm afraid, I left them at home unwisely. So am off to the Thursday Bull Ring Rag Market, and on alighting right at the door, (by a miracle I caught the exact bus I needed) I see the shoe salesman waiting for me. I immediately find a nice grey pair and I don't have grey at the moment, and try them on. They fit well so, hey, I buy them for the princely sum of ten pounds. No doubt I will wear them once and regret it, but at least I now have another change of footwear, and they do look nice for the Seminar.

I discover a very French looking café just on the way to the Britannia where I am heading to check my booking for tomorrow. I am shown to a table outside and I order a coffee. It comes large and Americano, although I didn't order it and the pain au chocolat is very average. The whole place is Paris plastic, trying very hard to resemble Café Flore in St Germain, which it does well in all but the food and coffee. The interior is delightful, and the toilet has photos of Brigitte Bardot and the Coupe du Monde in 1938.

Birmingham is certainly cosmopolitan, but the clientèle here in this café is one hundred per cent Anglo, understandable I suppose, as they love 'a bit o' French', even if it is faux. The street alongside is packed with shoppers of all hue, and this is certainly the city which is advertised as the major creative hub of the Midlands - my words! This café is packed inside and two clients have already left as the food was not available. I overhear the waiter say they are short staffed and cannot fill the orders. Not a good look for Brum and the tourist trade, but the waiter apologises profusely.

Having coffee and pain au chocolat at the French style Café Rouge right opposite the famed Bull Ring

Smart Brummers...

,

And me, not so smart!

Attentive waiter...

My neighbour says, what's that? When the baguette/ beurre arrives

I have arrived at the Birmingham Museum and Art Gallery where ironically there is an Andy Warhol Exhibition showing, the same as the one I visited at Te Papa last year. It is a free Museum, like Te Papa, and the top floor where I begin is to do with the origins of Birmingham and its history of slavery in the eighteenth century and the efforts of some to abolish this odious tradition of the white man's presumed superiority. They tried to abolish it, and were successful, but on the condition that the black people, mainly West Indians from Jamaica, would adopt their religion and way of life. Again the racist card emerges, as why should any country be subsumed in order to satisfy the guilty conscience of the white man? But above all, why is white man's religion superior to the black man's? It is not.

I descend a little wearily to the second floor for some refreshment amd of course my sandwich is served by a black man, probably of Jamaican descent. I get a chance to speak to him and yes, he is fourth generation Birmingham but his great-grandparents were from Jamaica, and would have been 'in service', meaning, slaves.

The Museum Barista, a Jamaican called Terrell

This is all the newsBenedict at the Barbican.

The Railway Pub where I have a steak before having a look at a movie at the first cinema in the UK, The Electric Cinema.

Looking at construction of the Grand Centraltypical

of the enormous changes going on in Birmingham

.

The Electric Cinema, Station Street,where I see a fascinating Irish animated movie of a mystical journey in the spiritworld. Called 'The Song of the Sea', it was quite entrancing, although I did manage a few minutes nodding off. But it was uplifting and a good prelim for the seminar.

I decide to pop in to the Convention Centre to see if they have set up and I do catch sight of Aussie friend Toby who doesn't recognise me. As I am very tired I go straight back to Ali's BnB and woe of woes on arrival I discover an empty pocket. My two keys have escaped! This has happened before to me and I still haven't learned my lesson. Perhaps this time I will! Ali is super nice and I will give him an excellent reference as well as paying for two new keys. Now to forgive myself and try to rest for tomorrow!