I traveled into the forgotten Midlands Victorian tunnel and spent 41 minutes in eerie darkness

I’m standing in the middle of a 1.7 mile canal tunnel with water dripping from the roof and feet wet up to the ankles. It’s so big that either exit looks like a tiny white blob to my left and right in a soup of black.

If it weren’t for the flashlight on my phone, I’d be in absolute darkness. As someone who suffers from claustrophobia, I’m already starting to regret this – is it too far to turn back?

I came to explore the Netherton Channel Tunnel, a Victorian engineering marvel that opened in 1858, linking the Black Country towns of Netherton and Tipton by canal. It was built to ease congestion on the waterway near the Dudley Tunnel, where waiting times were in excess of eight hours a day (and we think we’re in trouble on the M6 ​​today).

READ MORE: We found a ‘magical’ hidden oasis between the M5 and M6 and could spend the whole day there

Get breaking news BirminghamLive WhatsAppclick the link to join

The construction of the Netherton Channel Tunnel took three years to complete and nine men lost their lives in the process and another 18 were seriously injured. It was the last canal tunnel to be built during Britain’s canal era and remains the longest still open in the West Midlands.

The tunnel, which carries the Dudley Canal, starts in the south at Bumble Hole Nature Reserve in Netherton and continues in a straight line through the hills until it ends in Tividale, near Dudley Road West, where the canal continues to the Birmingham Canal. at a short distance. I chose to start from Tividale, to finish my walk at the nature reserve.

Finding the entrance was easy enough. I took bus no. 126 from Dudley town center and we went down Birmingham New Road in Tividale before going down Groveland Road where there is an entrance to a towpath along the Birmingham Canal. From there it was a 9-minute walk to Tividale Aqueduct, which carries the Birmingham Canal over the Dudley Canal.

The aqueduct has two paths to the Dudley Canal on either side. Below is a strange cluster of terraced houses on the water’s edge. Before I set off I had read online that the tunnel’s left towpath was no longer in use, so I took the Dudley Canal right towpath from the aqueduct.

From there it was a short walk to the gaping mouth of the Netherton Canal Tunnel, built into a hill with greenery surrounding its arch. Looking inside, it was pitch black and part of my subconscious was telling me not to go in.

I stopped to admire the scenery and appreciate that there is such a peaceful and green space in the middle of the bustling and industrialized Black Country. As I sat there, I suddenly became aware of a soft hum echoing from the darkness, like a small drum beating against the Victorian walls.

Entering the tunnel entrance, I saw a bright light inside, like eyes staring at me. But I soon realized what it was: a canal boat in the middle. Having come this far, I felt I had no choice now but to embark on the 166-year chasm. I wondered what would be waiting for me inside.

As I began my journey, the light of the canal boat crept closer and closer, its engine rumbling. Then I felt a splash and realized I had stepped into a hidden puddle on the towpath. I was completely caught off guard and my trainers were soaking wet.

I realized that there were several puddles and they were getting bigger. I looked behind me at the entrance I had just come from – should I go back? This proved treacherous. The canal boat passed me, its occupants echoing in the tunnel.

By shining my phone light on the floor, I could see where to step. There was enough room to avoid puddles. I’ve got this, I thought. I walked on, keeping the phone light firmly on. Soon the canal boat rumbled out of the tunnel, the hum fading into silence.

Now he felt strange. I was alone. In front of me was a tiny white dot, the southern entrance to the tunnel. I found it disorienting to be so far away. There was a railing to my right, keeping passersby from the water’s edge, yet I had an irrational fear of going over it.

The deeper I got, the scarier it got. The daylight was fading behind me, but the blur ahead didn’t seem to get any bigger. I felt like I was stepping into the distant past, into a portal hidden underground.

I imagined how hard it must have been to build the tunnel back then and all the boats and people that have passed through here over the ages. The only sound beside my footsteps was splashes of water falling from the ceiling into the drain. Sometimes it was so hard that it looked like rain.

Occasionally I came across a large vent in the ceiling, shining rays onto the surface of the water above. In places the trail was bumpy, but suddenly it would become very flat. There were sections where the wall would widen as well, forming little niches, some scrawled with graffiti.

The worst, however, was when the towpath was flooded with water, sometimes several feet. I had no choice but to walk through it, the water swallowing my tights. This was when my claustrophobia grew, in the deepest parts of the tunnel.

Halfway through, I noticed a light in the distance behind me. At first, I thought it was a canal boat, but when it crept up on me, I let it go because it was too small. Finally, it was a cyclist who passed me. Apart from him and the canal boat, it had been dead quiet.

The signs to the Netherton Channel Tunnel said it was usually a 45 minute walk. I got in at 11.18am and finally finished the ride at 11.59 – 41 minutes later. Careful navigation around the puddles caused me a few delays.

But I was glad to finally step into the light of day. I felt like I had been plunged into darkness for a while, into a different realm, and it took a moment for my eyes to readjust.

I’m used to hiking in the great outdoors – but for this hike, I came unprepared. The light from my phone was barely enough to illuminate the floor and my shoes got wet.

But I would recommend this trail to anyone who wants to explore this Victorian wonder – with the right gear and footwear. It’s free, of course, and you can appreciate the work that went into creating such a long tunnel. Be sure to wear hiking boots, take your phone with you and a bright flashlight. And if possible, take someone with you.