Walsall Arboretum

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Walsall Arboretum is a wondrous sylvan setting in the middle of a picturesque English Midlands town not far from Krackow that really does merit having this page all to itself as it really is good, really.

Arboretum Parklife

A home to many species unique to the British Isles such as the Tan Warthog and the Crackling Duck (named after the texture of its cooked skin - yes gross I know, but this is Walsall). The more remote parts of the Arboretum and in particular the lakeside area are home to a small colony of pygmy hippos (a large colony of pygmy hippos would imply that they aren’t actually pygmy although there are still enough of them to get by as long as not too many more get run over outside the Correctional School for Virgins over the road).

For many years the Arboretum was much feared and avoided by the locals due to the large number of predators that roamed therein, causing a wall to be built around the entire area around 1645. Following the endowment of the zoo by the late Lord Rushall in 1928 (who was reputed to be very well endowed), many of the larger and more dangerous denizens were captured and the Arboretum became a safe, even wonderous, place.

It’s place in Walsall

The Arboretum is in fact the last remaining tract of the great mythical forest of Broceliand that once covered the entire British isles, making it resemble some sort of large hairy 1970s nudist of the type that were largely irradiated by the Brazilian hair wars of the 1980s. This jewel in Walsall’s crown boasts a great collection of tree and things to do for the discerning tourist. Owned by the people of Walsall and maintained to the highest horticultural standards under the dedicated tutelage of the town’s councilors it attracts visitors and migratory hippos from all over the world that come to bask in its wondrous glory.

It boasts, amongst other things, such wonders as:

• A tree.
• A big pool of water, used by the local Penguin community for fishing and bathing.
• A real steam railway.
• A tramp.
• A another tree.

History and Mythology

As the years of history passed by, like so much sulking Squid, so the forest of Broceliand did shrink and shirk from its boundaries. Once a mighty forest it was soon nearly lost to humankind as the wielders of axes did heft and heave the once mighty trees in their slash and burn desecration. Soon there was little left and in the hour of greatest direness the trees did awake and the shepherds of trees were roused in their anger. Soon, they were chopped down and burnt too, much to Tolkien’s disdain as he hadn’t quite finished chapter ten of some book he was writing at the time and he ended up inventing most of the stuff about forests and stuff. Much, much more could be revealed about this mystical, yet real, place which is well known to be the inspiration for Tolkein’s forests as he observed it from the upper deck of the X60 to Birmingham on his return from visiting his aunty Maud in Wolverhampton.

In the year of our Lord, 1982, the town’s councilors did decree to restore this once proud forest to it’s former glorification and so they paid some guys to come along and plant a tree and some shrubs and thus, the Arboretum was born. Forgotten for many eons the Arboretum thrived on the neglect and prospered until it became the impressive legend it is today. Strange and forgotten creatures and cults made their home amongst it’s leafy boughs. Elves, hippos and big nasty spiders dwell there now amongst the shade and there are occasional rumours of a secret underground colony of penguins, hell bent on world domination and depleting the oceans fish stocks in their quest for a Herring monopoly.

The Arboretum now

Once forgotten and neglected the Arboretum now forms a green and leafy lung in the stumbling, carjacked metropolis of Walsall. It provides a home and safe sanctuary to the occasional drunk and lost tourist but the highlight of it’s year must surely be when it plays host to the fabled Walsall Illuminati Barn Dance.

Walsall Illuminati Barn Dance

This gathering of those most secretive members of the Hippo Cult for their annual pagan rites is the highlight of Walsalls calendar. Bedecked in their pink tutu’s the enlightened ones do meet, once upon a year, to dance and do strange mysterious things in the woods. What follows is serious conjecture but it is believed they attract their sacrifices by placing bright and dazzling lights in the trees to lure the unwary to their doom laden fate as they lie in wait, hidden amongst the undergrowth, waiting to pounce on the bedazzled.

The Future

Car parking.