Leading up to my birthday, Luke kept asking me whether I wanted a present or a little trip away. He hinted that he had a really good idea about what he wanted to buy me, but I didn’t bite. I wanted to see more of the UK instead.
That’s how we found ourselves in Liverpool, the European Capital of Culture in (which year was it again…, which was the year after it celebrated its 800th anniversary. EIGHT HUNDRED. I believe it was in 2008). I still cannot fathom the history that lies in countries like the UK, but seeing these cities suddenly turns me into a history buff who wants to read every bronzed placard within walking distance.
We were staying right on the Mersey, which was a great jumping off point for the rest of this incredibly walkable city. We spent our first day wandering the streets and trying to get our bearings. We glanced down at the map every now and again to make sure we were headed towards something interesting, but mostly I was just content with craning my neck at the wonderful architecture around me.
We strolled through the Georgian Quarter, peaking into the doors of all of the city’s plastic surgeons; we wandered in and around the gigantic Anglican Cathedral; we learned about the history of this port city at the Merseyside Maritime Museum; we sat around the Cultural Quarter trying to get all of the wonderful stone buildings into one picture (not possible, by the way).
In addition to history and architecture, Liverpool is also the home to the Beatles. Everywhere you go in the city there are reminders that one of the greatest bands of all time came from this place. We checked out the Beatles Story, the museum dedicated to the foursome. It was full of information, memorabilia and replica rooms of places they frequented as boys.
Then we headed to the Cavern Club, “The Most Famous Club in the World”. The Beatles may not have played here first, but they played here most. It felt like the place of legends, with signed photos all over the interior, that famous stage and the Liverpool wall of Fame outside.
It was a pretty great birthday. I ate a lot of food, drank a fair amount of British ale and learned a lot (pretty much my three favorite things). I felt a lot better about this birthday than I did about the last one, but maybe that just comes with age.
Rain or Shine
“If you’re waiting for good weather, you probably won’t see anything”, Luke’s mum said to us the other day while we looked at the forecast for the week ahead: rain.
I think we got a little bit lazy while we were in the US. With the Arctic temperatures and mountains of snow, it just seemed easier to sit inside with soup and a good book rather than venture outside, so that’s exactly what we did.
Now that we’re in the UK, we want to make sure we use our time a little bit better; we want to make sure we get out and see new sites.
But then the old weather excuse came up again. It’s not nearly as cold as it was back on the east coast; this time it’s the smattering of rain and the piles of mud we’re avoiding. That is, until Luke’s mother called us wimps.
The next day, with gale force winds and heavy rain forecasted, we bundled up in ski jackets, put on our big boots and tossed a change of clothes in the back seat. We were off to the Peak District whether we liked it or not.
We kept waiting for the sun to be swallowed up by the looming grey clouds, but for the two hours we walked among the hills of Matlock Bath, not a drop fell from the sky.
We got in the car just in time to avoid the only rain we would see all day. By the time we got to Bakewell, a quick drive up the road, the rain had ceased and we could happily walk around this quaint British town for a few dry hours.
Stone buildings crowd the street, moss seems to grow from every exposed crevice; I was in my version of British heaven. There’s a church on top of one of the hills and when you stand among the bright green grass the view back over the town kept me smiling for the rest of the day.
We almost didn’t go because of the weather forecast and in the end, it was a pretty warm, dry day. We got a little muddy, but I eased my pain with a big old Bakewell Pudding (with custard).