Couldn’t resist posing with the Fab Four
We broke up the journey from the Lake District to Wales with a two-day stop in Liverpool. Not that I was ever dying to see Liverpool, but I did have a bit of curiosity. In my mind the name conjures up gritty old industrial England, coarse football enthusiasts, and a layer of dusty magic from a bygone era of musical greatness.
The spectacular interior of the massive and surprisingly modern Liverpool Cathedral
The Cathedral mixed Neo-Gothic splendor with modern art, like this neon sculpture by the daring English artist Tracey Emin
I wasn’t totally off the mark; I found all three of those things on broad display here in Liverpool. And yet the place was so much more lively and dynamic than that.
The days as an industrial powerhouse have left behind plenty of grand architecture — some in need of repair and lots more turned to new uses. There is a lot of slightly gritty urban beauty to it all.
But the streets were absolutely teeming with life. Admittedly, we arrived on a Saturday, so our first evening probably saw the week’s biggest crowds. But the city center was truly alive — block after block of Liverpudlians out and partying in every direction. It’s hard to imagine seeing so many people out and about at the center of a comparable American city. If you were in Milwaukee or Cleveland or Baltimore, you might find a busy few blocks someplace, but I doubt you’d ever find a city center remotely as full of life as this one.
As far as the coarse football enthusiasts go, my expectations weren’t that far off. This is not a fashionable London crowd. You hear a lot of tough to understand northern industrial accents, not so much the Oxford and Cambridge kind. The place is certainly not overrun by tourists. You just find a lot of ordinary Scousers out enjoying the scene. (Liverpudlians are also called Scousers after a seafood stew called scouse, long favored by local sailors.) And a lot more football jerseys than designer clothes.
And yes, music remains a big part of the excitement because something truly special happened here in the 1960s. An incredible music scene developed in Liverpool, one driven by post-war working class youth, a unique local identity, and the inspiration of American Rock & Roll. A new generation of musical talent packed the clubs along Mathew Street, and eventually took the whole world by storm. Paul, John, George, and Ringo are still present everywhere in Liverpool, and it’s a joy to see.
The almost sinister bulk of Liverpool Cathedral, the largest church in Britain, built between 1904 and 1978. It’s stunning to see such an audacious project built in the 20th century.
Buzzy Mathew Street, home of the little clubs that fueled the unique Liverpool music scene in the 1960s
A replica of the Cavern Club, the little underground space on Mathew Street where the Beatles performed 292 times before emerging as global superstars
Scousers out having a rowdy good time
Delicious Turkish food on lively Castle Street
Beautiful architecture in the buzzy central city
Monumental architecture, including our hotel with the huge clock tower
The city had kind of a rainy, gloomy hangover by Sunday morning
OK, there is one peculiar and not at all good thing about Liverpool. Some genius here decide to make crosswalk signals work differently than every other place on Earth. When you want to cross the street the signal is not directly in front of you on the other side of the street (like it is in every other city on the planet). Here in Liverpool, the signal is tastefully and discretely placed just to the right or left of where you are standing. So when you look across the street, where you expect the signal to be, you are actually looking at the signal for the people who are trying to cross the street perpendicular to the one you want to cross. The result is that when you see the crosswalk signal you are looking for, it’s exactly the opposite of the one that applies to you. So if you look up and see a green man that means you are certain to be mowed down and die if you cross now. Who came up with this madness?
If you see a green man in front of you, that means you will be killed if you try to cross the street. You are supposed to be looking at the red man on your right instead. In fact, it’s the guy standing in this picture who has the right of way, not me. Uniquely Liverpool!
