Back in the U.S.A.

So, I’ve always wanted to go to England. The Beatles were still around and touring when I was a little girl. Tom Jones was shaking his thang on tv. And the Rolling Stones, with that sexy Mick Jagger, were being naughty. I was an anglophile as a toddler and it increased exponentially in the 70s with Bowie, Wings, Zeppelin, ELO, the Sweet, Supertramp and T-Rex, and blasted into the stratosphere as I came of age in the 80s with Punk and New Wave bands/artists Duran Duran, Culture Club, Spandau Ballet, Howard Jones, Allison Moyet, The Clash, Sex Pistols, Dexys Midnight Runners, New Order, Elvis Costello, ABC and the hundreds of others making the scene. I got caught up on Roxy Music. Bowie made a come back. And the Stones were still rocking.
I’m skipping down memory lane this morning because 1. I’m exhausted and my mind tends to wander when I’m tired and 2. because I’m back at home after have the glorious opportunity to visit England over the past few days. After dreaming of London, I was actually there on Tuesday. LiverPooh is working in Liverpool thanks to her great company. I was able to visit her during the past week.
My adventure began with my first flight to Europe. I left work and raced to the airport, nervously awaited boarding, hopped onboard and off we flew. The flight was a bit turbulent, but nothing compared to my nightmare flight from Houston to Baton Rouge; so as a result it was comfy. As a matter of fact I found the bumps made napping an option. The flight attendants weren’t allowed to serve the meal until the ride settled down, so I nodded off a bit all the way up the eastern seaboard. Once we were over the Atlantic the ride smoothed out and we were served a yummy dinner and the movies began. There were two shown, one with Amy Adams, as an “ugly-American” in some part of the UK – I’m guessing Ireland by the hills and the jigging. I broke my earphones shortly before the movie started so I was never able to hear the movie, just watch. The other movie was Crazy Heart, which I’d wanted to see (and hear). By the time the extraordinarily long movie with Amy was over and a brief view of where we were, how fast we were going, and how high we were flying, Crazy Heart began and I fell asleep shortly afterward. When I awoke a couple hours later, the movie was still on, the sun was up and the flight crew was roaming the aisles serving again. We arrived in Manchester a bit before 9am. I made it through customs – barely it seems since the woman behind the desk wanted to ask me questions and my brain was entirely too groggy to give sensible answers. I kept thinking, “Lady, it’s 3:30 in the morning to my body, stop asking me questions and expecting me to make sense.” I finally made it through and headed out to a new adventure. The plan was that Harry the driver would meet me at the airport. When I came out, there was LiverPooh. Harry was nowhere to be found, so she made a quick call and discovered he was on his way. Harry and Paul showed up a bit later and whisked us away to Liverpool. I tend to be a little bit of a backseat driver at times, especially if my nerves are shot (the way they usually are when I’m tired) so I was silently panicking a bit when it appeared we were going to hit cars – then I realized the problem was that I was thinking on the wrong side of the road and settled back and enjoyed the gorgeous green countryside.
We arrived at LiverPooh’s building and headed up to the sixth floor with its great view of Cains Brewery, the Novus Centre, the Catholic Cathedral (aptly known as the wigwam), the Anglican Cathedral and the BBC building (which changes colors at night). After a short rest we headed to Chinatown. We went to LiverPooh’s favorite restaurant (where she saw Jason Isaacs – one of my favorite actors – on her first visit). Jason wasn’t in attendance on this day, nor was decent service. The waiter seemed a little offended when he rushed over as soon as we were seated and we weren’t ready to order. He finally came back and took our orders and we never saw him again. Another guy brought our order, but would not return to the table. I attempted to get another glass of wine, but he turned and went the other direction. The young woman who was serving the other tables never looked our way. The food was not great and the service was intolerable. Typically, we’re both big tippers (and easy customers) since we’re both former waitresses. We left nothing. Not the roaring successful start I’d imagined to my trip, but I was no longer hungry – a plus.
We walked back to the flat and my exhaustion started winning the battle. I called my mother to let her know I’d arrived safely and we just hopped around and chatted for a bit. In spite of being awake for almost 36 hours (with a two hour nap) at that point I had a lot of nervous energy and couldn’t seem to wind down until almost 2am local time.
Sunday was a down day. I slept in a little bit (until noon local time) and LiverPooh went to pick up something to eat. By the time we’d finished eating, most of the shops were closed, since it was Sunday, so we just talked, surfed the web, and watched tv. BBC2 was premiering a movie about Boy George called Worried About The Boy. It wasn’t scheduled to air on BBC2 Wales which is what LiverPooh had, but we turned at the appointed hour and were delighted to see the credits for it.
Monday morning I found startling daylight when I got up at 5am in preparation for our trip to Edinburgh. I’d been distracted the previous evening by the fact it doesn’t get dark there until about 10pm. I’ve been told they get about 6 hours of darkness per day. That is fantastic to me. I was loving it. Of course, the downside is Winter, when they only get about six hours of light per day. You win some, you lose some.
Hmmm, it’s storming here again. While I was in Liverpool I asked LiverPooh what thunderstorms were like there and she said she didn’t know – it had not stormed there since she’d been there.
Edinburgh was great. When we arrived it was quite chilly. We had breakfast a couple of places in Princes Mall, then went to the Hop On Hop Off bus stop. We sat inside due to the temperature and had a lovely tour of Edinburgh. A member of the royal family was arriving at Holyroodhouse during the trip so we got to see a little bit of the color and flair of that ceremony including some soldiers doing some parade-y stuff. Very kewl. On the second trip around on the bus, we sat on the top level outside and hopped off at Edinburgh Castleand wandered around it while. There is a most gorgeous view of some body of water from the castle. I don’t know which – it never occurred to me to ask. I took pictures and we walked around enjoying the sunshine and warm temperatures. We picked up some souvenirs in shops within walking distance of the castle, then hopped on the bus to head back to the train station. By the time we reached the station we had about 20 minutes before the train, so we grabbed some grub from Burger King and got on the train for the trip home. It was a lovely trip with beautiful pastoral scenes featuring lots of sheep and cows. We had a table seat on the train, which was very relaxing. Back in Liverpool we caught a black cab – the classic black cab – back to the flat. The trip to Scotland was about four hours, but it didn’t seem that long. Initially I attributed that to my sleeping on the way down, but the trip back didn’t seem that long and I didn’t sleep at all. It was a marvelous day with perfect weather and lots of fun.
Tuesday morning we got up at 4 to catch the early train to London. Our goal was to see the changing of guard at Buckingham Palace. We arrived at Euston station just before 8am and wandered around a while – me trying to get warm and Liverpooh trying to decide on breakfast. We finally did both by getting breakfast at a pseudo-french place inside the food court of Euston station. After an incredibly delicious breakfast we stopped by the mis-Information station and got tickets and bad directions to the Hop On Hop Off bus. We walked to the location on the map and stood around a while watching city buses stop and leave and finally decided to walk around a bit to see if we could find the actual Hop On Hop Off stop. The highlight of that time for me was LiverPooh trotting after a bus she saw stopped at a traffic light with the intention of seeing where it would stop. I would’ve paid good money to see how far she planned to run after the bus, but another light caught it almost as soon as it turned, ruining my fun. Anyway, she came back and we decided to walk in the direction from which the bus appeared to be traveling and saw the Hop On Hop Off stop a bit up the street. Hooray!!! So we got on a bus after being accosted by a Russian working for the bus company who was trying to get us to buy tickets to attractions like Madame Tussaud’s while arguing with a guy from another bus company and also working a deal with a tourist who’d just gotten off a bus and was making inquiries for a group of people who would apparently take tours later that day. LiverPooh talked to the Russian for a bit and considered his deals and I suggested she get on the bus. She mentioned to him that we wanted to see the changing of the guard. He told her it happened at 11:30 and it was already too late for us to see it. When we got on the bus she checked with Jimmie Johnson and learned it was only 10:10. (A beautiful shot of Jimmie Johnson is the wallpaper on her phone and she finds reasons to look at her phone throughout the day. I call it asking Jimmie Johnson for the time.) I teased her about believing a word the Russian was saying. Off we flew on a fast tour of London. The driver was wheeling that bus like he was in a race. In spite of the rubber burning pace we saw more festivities in Hyde Park as someone was visiting the Queen and there was more pomp and circumstance included a mounted regiments in ceremonial garb. When the tour completed, we went around again to get to one of the joint stops which included buses to other portions of the city. The stop was near Leicester Square and we wandered to the square so I got to see the home of CapitalFM (my former favorite radio station) and everything else in the Square. It’s a gorgeous space and the parks in England make more sense than the parks here. The bus we took next included stops at Buckingham Palace, Trafalgar Square, Westminster Abbey, The Tower of London and a ride across the Thames. This tour had a live tour guide – Simon – who was funny and sarcastic and pretty knowledgeable. He went on a roll about Heather Mills that was quite funny. During that tour, all traffic was stopped while a classic Rolls Royce and two open horse-drawn carriages followed a police escort into the Wellington Arch in Hyde Park Corner. It was a kewl site (that mucked up an already dodgy traffic situation). The tour continued and we were later stopped behind the same group traveling down the street ahead of us. By the time we got to the Thames it was too late to take the river tour and get back to the train so we decided to finish that tour, catch the blue bus back to the original stop, walk back to Euston and grab a bite to eat before re-boarding the train. When we arrived I noticed a sign on a restaurant advertising a meal special of Mushroom Risotto and a glass of wine for £4.99. We went to that restaurant and the risotto was lovely, as was my wine choice. Back on the train, which arrived a bit early, though not on a table seat, and back toward Liverpool. The trip back started well with more pastoral scenes (including a lot more horses) and the train cleared out at the first stop so LiverPooh moved to a seat across the aisle. The train arrived in Crewe, allowed passengers to disembark, then stayed at the station with the doors open. Eventually Paul, our train manager, came on the speaker to explain that the signalling cables had been pinched from Ditton and we were at a standstill for the moment. We remained there for about 30 minutes until Paul finally told us the train would go no further and we would have to take a different train to Chester then on to Liverpool. So we got off the train and headed to the platform Paul specified (platform 11) where there was indeed another Virgin train sitting on the tracks. Everybody was standing outside the train (which contained a lot more passengers than our train). I finally climbed on and heard someone giving a similar announcement (though he said there was a massive electrical failure at Ditton) to those passengers. I left the train and watched the crowd on the platform which was the very definition of a milling crowd. We stood around for a while until finally there was an announcement over the station speakers (which was too faint for me to hear clearly) and everybody began moving away from the parked train. We followed the crowd and ended up at platform 6 where a train arrived shortly headed for Chester. We went to Chester, the crowd descended from the train and to track 1 to await a train to Liverpool. We were no longer traveling on the cushy Virgin trains with their shopping coach and first class cars, by the way. The trains we were now taking were a lot more utilitarian every time we changed. On to the Liverpool train which made about a million stops between Chester and Liverpool at all sorts of stations. The train seemed to stop in neighborhoods so the scenery was different, more houses than horses, which made the trip more interesting. When we got to Liverpool Lime Street station LiverPooh was craving Burger King and we grabbed a bit from what they had left and headed for the black cab. A quick bite to eat and some telly, then off to bed for us.
Wednesday morning we got up later than usual, around 8, since we would only be traveling locally, and prepared to go on the Mersey Ferry. The ferry was nice (okay, everybody sing along ‘So ferry ‘cross the Mersey ’cause this land’s the place I love and here I’ll stay’), cold, but nice. The river is beautiful, Cold, but beautiful. The weather was warm and cloudy with a slight breeze on land, but COLD and windy on the ferry. When we left the flat I was concerned I was overdressed. I had on a thermal undershirt, and a thick sweater and was carrying my camo, lined, thermal jacket. By the time the ferry landed I was wearing the camo jacket along with a skullcap and was still not warm. Did I mention it was COLD?!?!?! So we left the ferry and headed into the Fab4 Store, then up to part one of The Beatles Story. This portion of the exhibit could rightly be called ‘The Story of Julian Lennon and His Father’, since they were in evidence everywhere, with a few pictures of Paul McCartney with Julian and Cynthia and John and Julian thrown in for good measure. We moved rather quickly through that one and headed to Albert Dock for the main part of the exhibit. The main part of the exhibit was great and included reproductions of the Cavern Club, the club in Berlin, a recording studio, and the white room with the white piano that was John’s. The exhibits seemed to lean more toward John than the other Beatles, though much less so than the first portion. Maybe because Paul was my favorite Beatle I wanted to see more stuff about him. At the end of the tour there are pods for each Beatle with descriptions of each, memorabilia, and post-Beatles music playing. That was probably my favorite Paul McCartney portion of the tour. The Cavern Club and the room where the girls were hysterically screaming were my favorite parts of the Beatles as the Fab Four portion of the tour. The white room was touching, as it was meant to be, and evoked the spirit of John in a rather unexplainable way for me.
After being Beatled for a couple hours we FINALLY went to The Pumphouse Inn for dinner. I was under the mistaken impression that we were going to have a bite to eat before the ferry. LiverPooh had an agenda and no time for food. We arrived at the Pumphouse about 5pm, so I was out of fuel and out of energy. I had been trying to have fish and chips since I’d been in Liverpool and for one reason or another had not yet managed it. The Pumphouse was gorgeous and comfy and the fish and chips were yummy. With the fish and chips tasting accomplished, dessert was a slice of berry scone with strawberries and clotted cream, and it was delicious. I could’ve stayed there all evening, but the time of my departure started nagging at me. I was leaving the next morning, meeting Harry at 7:30am. I was already starting to miss Liverpool. So we headed out onto the docks and decided to walk back to the flat. The walk was lovely and as we crossed a bridge out came several sailboats and a few scullers. I took pictures and watched for a bit. Then we trudged on to the flat and I took some pictures of the courtyard which contains various sayings regarding play by famous folks like Oscar Wilde, Carl Jung, and Goethe.
Back at the flat I lay down for a bit while LiverPooh went next door to her friend’s place to borrow a scale. I noticed the scale when I was at Hartsfield and my bag weighted 41 pounds – the limit is 50 pounds. I was packing a few more things for my return trip and wanted to make sure the bag wasn’t too heavy. Plus LiverPooh will be returning home the following Thursday and wanted to do the same. LiverPooh’s friend came over and chatted for a while. She was leaving for Venice the following evening. I was doing no better at getting to sleep early, than I had the entire trip. LiverPooh set the alarm for 5:15am. I’m a light sleeper, so when she got up, I woke up. She came in to say good-bye (before making her lunch for work) so I was up and out of bed by 4:30am. Oddly, I wasn’t sleepy. I talked to her until she left for work, then I started getting ready to meet the cab. At 6am One Tree Hill came on television. By that time I was ready to go, so I wandered around a bit to make sure I’d not left anything and watched One Tree Hill. At 7:15am after a final look around I headed downstairs to wait for the taxi. Paul (Harry’s son) pulled up shortly after. We then had to wait for two of the guys who were getting rides to work. On this trip I got to see a bit of the residential section of Liverpool as well as the Novartis campus. Liverpool is as different from Atlanta as the moon, but I felt more at home there; I believe. After dropping the guys off, we headed for Manchester, crossing the Runcorn Bridge (I believe – it looked like that one and the name is familiar). We arrived at the airport and I finally saw the reason online check-in could be useful. After standing in line for an hour or so, I finally checked my bag and headed toward the gate. Paul had checked the plane as we were waiting for the other two passengers and noted that it was arriving 40 minutes late, so I wasn’t worried about the length of the line – just tired of standing in line. In general I’m very patient about lines. That morning, I was just bored. I think if I’d had someone to talk with while standing, or a book to read I’d have been fine with it. After the line I went upstairs to the gate to wait for the flight. It had not arrived when I got there, but pulled up shortly thereafter. The crewman at the desk called someone on the plane to beg for it to be ready in 20 minutes. It sounded as though the person on the other end of the line promised to do their best, but I had my doubts as to whether that was possible. The ground crew made lots of announcements about boarding in ten minutes and eventually they did start to board the plane. Finally I boarded and started to fall asleep almost immediately. Take off is my most favorite part of air travel, so I really wanted to be awake for that. As a result I fought to stay awake. I found it astounding that I made two trips across the Atlantic beside people with whom I never spoke more than to say thank you. We are truly isolated in this world – the more we are thrown in closer quarters. The most amazing thing to me was that I actually teared up as the plane took off. I really fell in love with Liverpool in that time. The men of Liverpool – well, they were a definite plus. They were cuter, taller, more stylish and much more charming than the male people of Atlanta. That was a pleasant surprise.
All in all, I can hardly wait to return to Liverpool. Living there would be a challenge – it’s just not warm enough for me, but I hope I can visit often.