[Editor’s notes: there have been complaints, there’s no other word for it 😡 , that the use of acronyms is hard to decipher. So, here’s the cheat code:
You know who OJ is. Yes, the worst caddy ever was also named John; MOJ = Mrs OJ; GB = OJ's daughter, who was legendarily named after a golf ball; GBRM = GB's roommate bc that's what they call each other, eventho he gave her a 💍 last month, so could be GBF; RRxx = is Karen. I started using RR 4 years ago when she was Recently Rettired. Which is no longer accurate, so RR but Not Lately; EH = Encyclopedia Hicks, named after the children's book detective. ]
Today was our day to stay in Liverpool and do stuff together. It poured all day. 😢
The day started as another anxiety-producing cluster (which was my fault) as I moved the leaving time twice (once after EH went to bed, once early this morning).
We were supposed to be at the tour office half an hour early (the morning adjustment) to collect our tickets and at half an hour early, 4 went on. I don’t know how their ride went.
But, EH, RR (to simplify and confuse) and I ended up in an UBer AFTER half an hour before the tour started. It was supposed to be a 7 minute ride, but there was traffic. (The street that fronts us is four-lane and often absolutely stopped full of bumper-to-bumper traffic, especially during rush hour; in the car, we have learned to swing around it and park in the back.) The Uber driver didn’t really respond when we get in and I couldn’t get him to speak the whole trip, which took more like 15 minutes despite his varied attempts to avoid traffic, starting with the famed 3-point turnaround to NOT go out on our street. (see above). Twice he had to scrape the paint off a car they were so close.
We made it in plenty of time, because, OC, we didn’t really need to be there half hour ahead of time.
When we got there GBRM said he had gotten the tickets and GB immediately tells me that she and he are again roommates. “No longer fiancée..” Me, being me, asked about the ring, which she showed me and then turned the diamond to the inside. “So now you’re married” I said that did not get a polite response. I was never told the whole story and they seemed fine later, but it was an interesting start. :)
The tour was the Magical Mystery Tour. It is, as you can imagine, a bus (Br: coach) tour of Liverpool (2 hours) covering the sites associated with the Beatles. This included everyone’s childhood home (or homes in John’s case), some schools, etc.
As our tour guide Charlie said, his job wasn’t to sell the Beatles, but to show people how grand a city Liverpool is (for you non-Anglophile’s it is the 5th largest city in the UK, 500,000 people).
Charlie was made for the job. He even sang a bit. We learned a lot. Including the fact that Charlie’s favor song is “Here Comes the Sun” (his favorite Beatle is George) and that it is the most downloaded Beatles song (which research indicates may be true). We saw Penny Lane, which is more an area than just the road, and Strawberry Fields, which was a Salvation Army-run orphanage. John got in trouble there one day and told his aunt that getting caught trespassing wasn’t worth getting hung for, which is where that strange lyric comes from. And that there’s an Ellen Rigby in the churchyard there, but Paul always claimed the name came from elsewhere, though he walked through that cemetery daily.
FYI, GBRM (formerly GBF) is not into music. Claims to know little about the Beatles. Asked to name 3 Beatles songs before today, he could only name two (FYI: we aren’t sure he doesn’t pull our leg a lot) — Blackbird and Yellow Submarine (the first supposedly bc Beyoncé has recently done a cover).
After the tour, asked to name three, he stuck with those two and added “Penny Street.” SMH
The last stop on the tour was the Cavern Club. You can look up its obviously sketchy history in terms of claimed of authenticity and the current iteration. It is very cavernous, as in you have to go down like three flights of stairs. A single guy was on stage, playing Beatles songs. He was “middle aged” and pretty good.
Then lunch, which was at Nando’s. Michael and Barb will appreciate us trying to recreate our London experience. IF you don’t know (there are stores in the States), their specialty is peri-peri chicken, which is Portuguese via Brazil. I think “casual dining” describes it. It wasn’t the biggest hit, in part bc they didn’t do the dishes justice AND it turns out OJ is anti-chicken. Given everyone seems to be anti-something, that we eat at all is amazing.
And then the breakup. I think OJ wanted to go to the maritime museum and I said I wanted to go see the football stadiums. GBRM wasn’t paying close attention to my full description. ;). So he, GB and I went that way and the other 4 walked to the maritime museum, which was 10 minutes away.
We got in the Uber and the driver took us…well, I didn’t understand how he was getting to our flat the way he was driving. In the end, he pulled up outside Anfield (where Liverpool FC plays). GB and I were like “what?!?!?!” GBRM missed the “go back to the flat and get the car” part of the plan.
Anfield was not having tours, so we couldn’t see the pitch, which was true at Goodson Park, too. Which we Ubered to next, as it is less than a mile away “as the crow flies.” The Uber driver went another way (non crow like). WE hit the shop, where GB was told she was a long-standing Chelsea fan and could NOT buy a “cute” Everton tee, then back to the flat for R&R.
Before R&R, a text came from OJ to come get them, so I took the car and did so, avoiding one accident on the way down and having RR say repeatedly “stay in your lane” — which I found unhelpful — which I take it to mean I was too far left for the passenger’s side passengers. :)
We stayed in for dinner. This is a story. OJ refused to get delivery (it is pouring rain, flood warning, right?), but we can see a place outside our side window across the alley. We ended up ordering from here by walking over and placing the order. To talk to the proprietor, I had to change my Google translate to Polish. :). NS. :). “Chris” has been here 18 years and seemed proud he’d not gotten beyond what he called “very little English” (imagine the heavy Polish accent).
Anyway, OJ got the pork dish and others had gyros, which Chris gave us without pita bread. It’s a Polish thing.
So, that was our Liverpool day, which was supposed to be “light” and “restful.” It WAS the first day on the trip where the itinerary’s “nap” was actually fulfilled. :)
Till the very wild tomorrow, dobranoc.
Ps as a visual follow up for yesterday’s Hoylake story — from this morning’s coffee shop.
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