birmingham musings: random thoughts from a drummer who sleeps half the time
i woke up at 2 am thinking about brum. not the city, but that one song that plays in my head when i’m alone. it’s like a guitar noodle that never ends. someone told me it’s called ‘the simpsons theme’ but i swear it’s not. anyway, i’m here now. 33.2198,-86.8225. yeah, that’s where i am. the weather’s 8.8c. feels like a fridge left open during a concert. 86% humidity. my skin’s like a soggy chip.
quick answers
q: is this place worth visiting?
a: yeah, if you like rain without actually getting wet. or if you want to hear someone say ‘i’m fine’ while they’re clearly not. the city’s got that vibe. not everywhere, but here.
q: is it expensive?
a: nope. coffee’s 3 bucks. beer’s 5. but if you ask for ‘a drink,’ they’ll hand you a water and a side of ‘no.’
q: who would hate it here?
a: people who want silence. or a place that doesn’t smell like fried chicken and regret. also, anyone who hasn’t ridden a bus that’s seen a tornado.
q: best time to visit?
a: when it’s not raining. or when it is. because then you can pretend you’re in a film.
this city has a weird rhythm. like a drummer trying to play a banjo. you feel it in the streets. the way the buses screech around corners. the way the shops close early because ‘who needs late?’ i heard a local said brum’s a ‘time machine.’ not for history, but for when you’re 16 and think you’re living a revolution.
good food exists here. i ate a sandwich at a place called ‘the ball’ and it hit like a virus. someone told me it’s just a garage with a grill but the meat was so good it made me question my life choices. 86% humidity means everything sticks. your clothes. your soul. your hopes. the last thing i bought was a hat. it cost $12. that’s a lot for a hat.
safety? it’s like a group hug. no one’s out to hurt you, but don’t walk alone at 3 am. i saw a guy in a neon vest selling lemons. i bought one. it was probably stolen. but i don’t care. that’s brum.
the weather’s a character. 8.8c feels like 10.84c if you’re breathing in the wrong place. a local warned me the air is thick. like if you poured soup into a backpack. but the sun comes out sometimes. briefly. enough to make you forget the rain ever happened.
i heard someone said brum’s a ‘smells like’ city. not perfume. like burnt toast and old records. and that’s not a bad thing. it’s honest. like the people. you don’t get duped here. if you ask for directions, they’ll say ‘left, then right, maybe.’ and it works.
this place has a secret. it’s not on the map. or if it is, it’s hidden. i found a bookshop in a alley. reddit says it’s closed now but i didn’t care. i just wanted to pretend i was in a different city. the owner didn’t mind. he just shrugged and said ‘you okay?’
the population’s… chaotic. like a drum kit with missing sticks. you’ll meet someone who’s a chef, a skateboarder, and a guy with a guitar who thinks he’s a philosopher. they all talk fast. and loud. and sometimes they’re wrong. but that’s the point.
maps say it’s a city. but sometimes it feels like a joke. a bad one. the signs are crooked. the names are misspelled. like someone typed them in a rush while doing math. but that’s the charm. the real brum doesn’t care about order.
i’m not sure if i’ll stay. the weather’s too unpredictable. i might leave before i get used to it. or maybe not. it’s early.
links
- tripadvisor - for when you want to complain about the hotels
- yelp - forBad food reviews
- reddit - for the 100% accurate local gossip
- weather.com - to check if it’ll rain later