Friday, May 24, 2024

(Day 6) Peahens, Bad Service & International Bee Day)

 It was our last day in L’pool (as I’ve learned to abbreviate it).

But first, some blog editorial stuff.  First, the number of pictures in yesterday’s blog has been commented upon.  Some liked more pictures; some seem troubled that I’ve violated the sacrosanct “no more than 3” rule.  I will try to follow my own rules from now on.  Though I wonder if the montage from dinner isn’t too much. 

Next, there were comments from yesterday’s about how I told one of the stories and how I did not fully exposit one person’s hard work and value.  I responded “get your own blog.”  :). There is a very longstanding practice, back to the Ancients, that the teller gets to choose their facts.  It is a practice I will continue in these e-pages. :)

Let’s start with dinner (so the food porn is the thumbnail picture), which was at Maray.  Its cuisine is North African.  OJ and I workshopped jokes about this all week.  The “I hear they serve camel steaks” line actually got OJ a laugh from the caddies today. ): *I* had been trying that joke out all week!!! 

Maray does the whole small plate/tapas thing, which is fun in a group (theoretically).  Let me just say that the concept met with some early resistance.  And it’s never a good experience when you have the menus, and the wait person has said “you should order 2 or 3 plates per person to share” and when asked what they want, most of the table says “I don’t know.”  

But the food was good (if you’re into that sort of thing — they had at least 3 ways to use chickpeas and I really don’t understand why people harvest chickpeas for human consumption in the first place) and good ambience.  Everyone who knew where we were going all week said what a good place it was and they lived up to that word-of-mouth.  Here is a group photo (so I can stick to my 3 photo rule) of (from top left, clockwise) Falafel, cauliflower, hummus, halloumi, and cod.  Regrettably, there was no camel on the menu. 

There were stories today.  Funny things seem to happen to me.  I wonder what the common denominator is?

Okay, I’ll start with a story I’ll tell on myself: today we played at West Lancashire Golf Club (irrelevant but I’m working it in) and after the round I leave OJ quaffing a Guinness as he has after every round and go to the bathroom.  In the stall, the lights go out (fill in those blanks folks :)) and I’m fumbling to get out in the dark.  

And I can’t get the door unlocked!!!  I try the lock up —- no!  I try it down — no! I try it in the middle — no! ๐Ÿ˜ก Up, down, middle — nothing!!! AND THE LIGHTS STILL HAVEN’T COME ON!!!! ๐Ÿ˜ก ๐Ÿ˜ก 

I was on their WiFi but it has disappeared and I don’t have the data turned on on my phone — it’s $10 a day — and I stand doing a cost-benefit analysis of turning it on and texting OJ or deciding how long before he realizes something is wrong and comes and checks on me (the answer, after telling him this, is NOT reassuring — “Oh, I’d have gotten another Guinness and continued working the room [I found him talking to the current club Lady Captain and friend in the room next to where I left him ๐Ÿ˜†], it would have been a long time.”  ๐Ÿ˜ก 

After realizing none of that was going to work, still in the dark, I decided to turn on the flashlight feature on my iPhone (thank you, Steve Jobs) and looked at the crack to see the bolt lock.  By wiggling the handle I finally got it to pull back — down was the right answer — and I was free!

I washed my hands. IT WAS STill DARk!!!

The lights came on AFTER I left the bathroom.  ๐Ÿคจ

We loved the club, which is right on the Mersey, almost at the Irish Sea.  My caddy was named James, who was great,  and he told some of the history.  There were two big bomb craters from WW2.  They were from friendly fire! There was an airbase just “over those two woods you can see out east” and a couple of times bombers were dumping their ammo and all before a tough landing and missed dropping them into the water nearby. ):  There was also a PoW camp on the edge of the property.  And an antiaircraft turret in sight.  The club also was messed about with —- they lost the ladies course in the center of the property — and some holes were rearranged.  

Every course we’ve been on has had pheasants.  Weird.  But the males are beautiful (if you don’t know) with their colorful heads and tiger-stripe like bodies.  

But we hadn’t seen a hen.  Our caddy Monday lamented that they seem to have disappeared at Royal Birkdale.  

Today there was one near us and James commented on it.  He said they were quite tame.  It came trotting up to me — I was told they liked to be fed and would take seed out of your hand!  I got a decent picture of her before she gave up on my as a seed-source. 


One of OJ’s favorites is a sausage roll.  I don’t know if this was a discovery when we went to Scotland in 2016, or when, but on trips to this part of the world to play golf, he likes to grab one at the halfway house if they have them.  There was one yesterday at RLSAGC.  But today he got one and rhapsodized about it.  An “Ode to a Sausage Roll,” if you will:

    Oh, roll of sausage, a delight,

    With water pastry oh so light, 

    With piggy hot,

    And spices not,

    I love you with each and every bite. 


And now, the final, if not best, story of the day. 

We took the car back to Enterprise.  For context, re-read part of Day 2 :). The Irish woman (we never got her name) was there.  Fortunately, she didn’t wait on me.  But there was a line waiting for help in the office.  When the first associate came out and asked “who’s next,” a guy stepped forward and they took him.  I looked over my shoulder at the seating and a woman (I needn’t try to describe her) said “I’m next.” With some attitude. Well, Irish was the next one out and the woman jumped up and she started helping her. 

In a few minutes, another associate came out and asked my name and asked for the car keys.  He said he was going out to look over the car.  I followed, so OJ and I had to piece the rest of this together on the Uber drive back to the flat. 

I will put it in order for your sake and so the humor really works. (I hope)

OJ said he desperately needed to go to the bathroom.  He was going inside. 

Turns out he interrupted Irish and the woman to ask where the bathroom was.  Irish said “I’ll show you” leaving the woman behind.  She took him back down a hall and showed him the door. 

When I finished with my associate, *I* asked for the bathroom (I know, the jokes write themselves ๐Ÿ˜‚) and he led me through a side door and told me where the bathroom was.  I found OJ there and I took his place as he came out. 

When I came out of the bathroom, walking down the corridor I looked through a glass window into the break room.  Irish was standing there! 

I joined OJ out front, waiting on our Uber, and I told him where I saw her and we laughed and then he said “when I went back through, that woman was still standing there waiting for her return” ๐Ÿ˜‚๐Ÿ˜‚๐Ÿ˜‚ 

So, she’d taken another break in the middle of waiting on someone!! OJ kept saying “that just doesn’t happen!”  

It won’t be a great review. :)

And that, my friends, is it for Liverpool. 

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