Worcester roofs, specifically
Why Worcester roofs green up faster than the drier ground around them.
Worcester is a river city. The Severn runs straight through it, past the cathedral and down to Diglis where the Worcester & Birmingham Canal joins the river, and the whole low-lying core sits in the river's flood basin. That's the geography that makes the city flood — the Barbourne gauge just north of the centre peaked at around 5.67 metres in the February 2014 floods, and 2007 was among the worst the city has seen — and it's the same geography that wrecks roofs. Even in a dry summer, that flat, wet ground keeps the air sitting heavy with moisture, and moisture is exactly what moss, lichen and gloeocapsa algae feed on. A roof here will carry noticeably more growth than an identical house a few miles up onto the drier ground towards the Cotswold edge.
The western suburbs get a double dose. St Johns, Dines Green, Henwick and the streets running up towards Lower Wick sit on the damp, west-facing side of the city, catching the weather that rolls in off the Malvern Hills before it reaches the rest of Worcestershire. More rain and longer-lingering humidity on that side means roofs in St Johns mat up faster than you'd expect for terraces of the same age across the river. By the time someone calls us, a north-facing Victorian slate roof off the Bromyard Road is usually carrying a thick green-black film of algae with moss building in the laps and the valleys.
You see the worst of it in the older streets near the river. The Victorian and Edwardian terraces in Barbourne and St Johns, the Georgian frontages around Britannia Square and the historic city, and the tall narrow houses in the cathedral quarter shade each other for much of the day, the streets are tight, and the original Welsh slate and clay tile holds damp far longer than modern materials. Down at Diglis, where riverside flats and new apartment blocks sit almost on the water, the constant humidity off the basin keeps even fairly young roofs greening.
Out on the estates it's a different roof but the same problem. Warndon and Warndon Villages, Ronkswood, Tolladine, Brickfields and the newer developments are mostly post-war and modern concrete interlocking tile. Those tiles are textured, which gives spores something to grip, so in this humid basin they mat up heavily — we lift the bulk off by hand from a tower or roof ladder before the biocide goes on. Whether it's an 1890s slate terrace in St Johns or a 1990s semi out at Warndon Villages, the cause is the same Severn-Vale damp, and so is the fix.
One thing specific to Worcester is the heavy split between two very different housing stocks sitting close together. A single street near the centre can run from a converted Victorian villa carved into flats — older shared roofs and gutters that nobody quite owns — to a 1930s semi to a brand-new infill house, each with a different covering. That's why we won't quote a flat rate over the phone: the right method for a brittle 130-year-old slate roof in Barbourne is completely wrong for a concrete-tile semi at Brickfields, and getting that wrong costs you tiles.