ABSTRACT
The train journey to Birmingham was uneventful. A long night of playing pool at Mack’s had left me exhausted, sleepy and a little irritable. The heat in the carriage and the uniform flatness of the Midlands landscape contributed to my drowsiness. Only a more rugged terrain-like the Pennines-would have kept me fully awake. Consequently, much of the journey passed in a nether-world: unexciting blurred images; the seemingly whispered conversations of my fellow passengers. It was the sight of old, disused engine workshops in Derby which brought me back to the real world. As the countryside resumed, I realised I was feeling apprehensive about my next stop. Birmingham and I were no strangers. I had lived and worked there for almost a year. It had been a profoundly disturbing experience.
