Back to Backs in Birmingham

It's drizzling with rain on a cold autumn night and you're snuggled warmly under layers of blankets, with a cold nose as there is no central heating. Finally, the urge to go to the toilet is overwhelming, so you are forced out of your nest, through the chilly house, out the back door and into the outhouse. Okay, so I could be describing my own youth, as until my teens we had an outside toilet (although thankfully fully plumbed and 3 strides from the back door), but in fact it is life in Birmingham, in the Back to Backs, and not in a 1930s bungalow in Australia, that I am describing. In the Backs to Backs, the outdoor toilet was merely a bucket, also used by about 60 other people, and at the end of the visit you would be going back to a bedroom that was inhabited by a large proportion of your family and a fair share of bed bugs. Thankfully, the outdoor plumbing, and lack of central heating (although in Australia, not as much of an issue), is where the similarities end, and I was ever so thankful of that when it is brought home to you the constant cooking and boiling of water, the exhaustion of the wash day, and the long hours of labour in your marriage bed. I enjoy a healthy dash of nostalgia, but realise that the women of my lifetime have it the best they have ever had it, with the vote, epidurals and washing machines.

The trip down memory lane started in a most evocative way - with a visit to a 1950s sweet shop. As we inhaled the sugary delights, it took us just seconds to choose the favourites which bought back the sticky and delightful nostalgia of our youth. For me the winner was popping candy, or Fizz Whizz, which crackles and bursts on the tongue, and is so addictive that I couldn't be satisfied until every last bit had been cherished on my way through the properties. 

 Our friends had thoughtfully booked our guided tour ahead, as this is the only way to see the houses. Our guide was really engaging, responding to our interest by lingering over the tour. The groups size was exactly right - we had the four of us, and four others - a grandmother, her daughter, and her two children of only about 3 and 5, who were incredibly polite, patient and well behaved. So it really is a place to visit for all ages and interests - even my Bygone Bloke, who has little interest in history before the turn of the last century, and no interest in domestic history (unlike my fascinated self), thoroughly enjoyed it.

The houses are known as 'Back to Backs' as they are houses built literally back-to-back around a communal courtyard - with the poshest houses facing the street. There are 3 homes in the courtyard which are renovated to capture the story of 3 families in periods from the 1840s through to the 1970s, as well as the shop and other treasures of George Saunder's tailoring collection. He can be thanked for the reason that the Back to Backs probably survived at all, as he used them as an over spill from his own workshop until their acquisition by the National Trust. If an afternoon visit doesn't seem enough, then you can also stay in the refurbished homes which face the street.



As we walked through the first property on the tour, we were invited to take a seat which immediately set a welcoming tone, as normally seats in historical buildings are sacred 'no no's'. Feeling at ease from the gesture, and sitting in the reconstructed spaces, made it possible to visualise the way of life at that time. I cosied up to the fire alight in the grate, with real candles flickering around me, admiring the lovely homely touches such as a rag rug, embroidered doily or patchwork quilt. It is particularly the later that had a further resonance for me- they are not the painstaking and elaborate constructions that many people make today, but the simple patching of real spare fabric which isn't always matching but creates a cosy and pleasing effect. They remind me of old Mrs Shaws quilts; a lady I remember breifly meeting when I was perhaps 6, who lived in an annexe of my grandfathers house, and who, when she passed away, willed my father several quilts and 2 blanket boxes which had travelled with her from the continent at some point. From then on one was used to store my mothers sewing, the other was used as my glory box, and the quilts were spread over the beds to be snuggled under for many a winter. I only wish I had one now as the weather starts to turn and the central heating remains off.