“Did you know that Poundland is on the official Dudley tourist route?” I ask a passerby on Main Street as I study a paper map from the tourist office.
“You are joking!” she smiles and grabs my arm. “We’re promoting the era of austerity, aren’t we?!”
“Actually, it’s a geological tour of the storefronts,” I say.
“What now?!” She smiles again and walks over to a fruit and vegetable stand, clearly thinking I’ve gone bananas. But a geological walk, where you see the statues, paving stones and buildings of the capital of the Black Country, is not such a bad idea. In 2020, this loosely defined region of the West Midlands was declared a Unesco Global Geopark, recognizing its internationally significant geology. A huge diversity of minerals – including coal, limestone and iron ore – are all located on the surface, hence the region’s leading role in the industrial revolution.
Dudley’s image problems probably stem from that time. Queen Victoria is known to – reportedly – pull down the blinds of her railway carriage window, so disgusted was she at the sight of soot-covered townscapes and dark canals, the sky black with smoke. Even before 13-year-old Victoria came to visit, the nickname ‘Black Country’ had been given to the area.
Marketing the city as a tourist destination has been an uphill battle ever since. My parents-in-law, Black Country people in neighboring Sedgley, say Dudley has been going downhill for years since Beeching cut the rail link. The nail in the coffin was the opening in 1990 of Merry Hill, the out-of-town mall, they say. Dudley is left with pound shops and nail bars. The words my in-laws use to describe the city are spelled with asterisks.
“We have an ongoing regeneration program,” counters Nicola Beckley, the council’s hard-working tourism development officer, who works within the wider Culture, Leisure and Bereavement Services department. Transport links are being improved, with a connection to the West Midlands tram network expected to open in 2024. Historic storefronts are also being restored with lottery money.
“And where else in the UK do you have a castle, a zoo and canal tours all within a short walk of each other?” asks Nicola over a bowl of crisps in Dudley’s newest café, Brookes Bar and Bistro, in a heritage-listed former courtroom. “The borough has nature reserves, towpath walks and historic glassworks in Stourbridge where you can make jewelery.”
But it was the sights in the city that piqued my interest. From the top of 13th-century Dudley Castle, the view stretches for 30 miles to the Malvern Hills. There were also strange noises. It turned out to be the cries of black and white crested lemurs. Meanwhile, sea lions and penguins live in the moat.
On a cold, foggy January day, only a dozen visitors wandered through the ruins and animal enclosures of Dudley Zoo and Castle. It’s all very different from the heyday.
When the zoo opened in 1937, there were miles of queues. The gates were closed after 50,000 passed through the turnstiles. The zoo was the brainchild of the third Earl of Dudley (whose ancestor, John Dudley, installed Lady Jane Gray on the throne of England for a reign even shorter than that of Liz Truss.)
The enterprising earl brought on board well-known architects and opened his menagerie on a hill, the revenues helping to maintain his family’s ruined castle. In recent decades, elephants and even an orca named Cuddles have been housed in bold modernist enclosures on the castle’s motte. It was billed as a zoo without bars – but a bear and a wolf escaped, and animals turned from white to gray in soot-laden air, while immaculate concrete quickly turned grubby.
Fortunately, today’s zoo keeps up with the times. “We’ve changed the collection to smaller animals, more suited to the Class II enclosures,” said one keeper, Cheyenne, as she passed the bear pit that used to hold a polar bear captive but is now home to Arctic foxes.
Hugging is also gone. “In an ideal world, we wouldn’t have zoos,” Cheyenne agreed when I questioned the ethics. “But we are involved in conservation breeding programs.” Offspring of one of the zoo’s former snow leopards roam wild in the Himalayas. Meanwhile, in the Tudor accommodation wing of the castle, there’s an exhibition of ‘Castle Creatures’, a Horrible Histories type display, featuring leeches, stock beetles and even a bowl of squirming maggots.
A ten minute walk from the zoo along a newly paved foot and cycle path is the Black Country Living Museum, where the specimens on display are clearly human. The site covers 26 hectares and spans a century. You can accompany a miner to a replica coal mine and ride on the top deck of a 1940s trolleybus. The fish ‘n’ chips are cooked in dripping beef. “It’s bostin,” said the woman who packed my portion, which I took to the local pub to eat with a pint of ale.
In the Victorian schoolhouse, the teacher, Mr. Sterne, lived up to his name. After hand inspection, a fellow ‘apprentice’ took up his wrath. “Painted Whore!” he cried at the sight of nail polish. “Shame!” we all shouted for his encouragement. Be warned.
Down by the canal, a man was making chains and hammering hot iron. He had worked up an appetite. “Arcud ate a scabby ox,” he said, wiping the sweat from his soot-stained brow. Nearby, men were polishing copper on historic freight-carrying narrowboats. If it all looks familiar, it’s because this part of the museum has appeared in the TV series Peaky Blinders.
The Black Country Living Museum borders the Dudley Canal and Caverns, where Gongoozler’s Cafe overlooks the entrance to a two-mile canal tunnel, the second longest in the country.
Wearing a helmet, I took a tour on an electric narrowboat through the watery underground maze. The tunnel leads to quarries and mines and opens into the Singing Cavern, at least 30 meters high, the roof of which is supported by two rock columns. Victorian tourists here enjoyed candlelit concerts and a lecture by the eminent geologist Roderick Murchison.
There were fireworks displays. Today’s visitors don’t have to compete with cargo-laden boats and men with spades, save for a few slow-moving mannequins. There are guided boat tours through the tunnels that last from 45 minutes to six hours. You can even try piloting a boat through a vaulted area. In addition to old-time concerts albeit with modern music and electric lights, Singing Cavern is today the venue for Tibetan ‘gong bathing’ experiences and underground paddle board excursions.
It all goes to show that there’s a lot more to Dudley than meets the eye – and not just because the most interesting bits are underground.
Where to stay
The Village hotel overlooks a parking lot and Burger King’s drive-thru, but the rooms are reasonably priced, clean and comfortable, and there’s a 25-yard heated indoor pool, sauna and steam room.
For more information on Dudley, see discover.dudley.gov.uk. Note that the aforementioned “Poundland,” as noted on the geological trail of the city, has recently become a “best before” discount store.