It seems unreal that exactly one week ago at this time, I was hastily stuffing the last few "necessary" odds and ends into my backpack and making my way to the bus stop to meet Leigh Anne and hop a coach to Liverpool. If you recall, the prior weekend, we befriended Jonny, the street musician ("busker.") On our first night hanging out with him, he extended the invitation to crash at a place he rents in Liverpool while he plays there. People are like that here, offering accommodation within minutes of meeting you, which is both strange and wonderful to me as a small-town American. Anyway, as we had just been pondering visiting the hometown of The Beatles earlier in the day, we jumped on the opportunity immediately - knowing we had a week-long break from school coming up.
Over the next few days, we made a very simple outline of how our journey outside Canterbury would go. It went something like this:
1. Purchase affordable tickets from Canterbury to Liverpool, from Liverpool to London, and from London back to Canterbury.
2. Travel to Liverpool. Stay three days at Jonny's and hope for the best.
3. Book a cheap hostel in London. Stay three days and hope for the best.
4. Return to Canterbury alive and, preferably, not broke.
As a person who is obsessed with planning almost every activity down to its tiniest detail, this was quite a leap for me. I am used to making plans to make plans, scribbling out lists, altering lists so that they are more sensible than the first, and researching copious amounts before I feel comfortable enough to make anything official. Needless to say, this was a nice change.
With the only weight on my shoulders being that of a ridiculously obnoxious military bag and purse (at least I know how to pack for next time), we made our way onto a coach bound for London's Victoria Coach Station. The coach tickets were much, much cheaper than train tickets, and we thought that a little extra travel time would not be a huge deal. The two-hour ride there was a breeze. Leigh Anne and I watched a movie and were giddy with excitement. I kept thinking about how odd it was that this would be my second time in London (the first being landing in Heathrow in September) without being able to see it, as we were leaving straight to Liverpool after we arrived.
We waited around a bit at the station and boarded the next coach to Liverpool which, little did we know, would consume over six hours of our lives. I can thankfully say that my motion sickness has, for the most part, been under control while I've been here. The occasional bus ride makes me feel a bit nauseous, but they're typically short enough that I can deal. Not this time. We were stuck in London traffic for nearly two hours. It was sweltering hot, sleep was impossible with all of the jolting about, and we were running about an hour and a half late. I could not get over the fact that I was able to fly from Chicago to London in the same amount of time it took us to get from Canterbury to Liverpool! And I'm not done complaining yet. When we arrived in Liverpool, it was nearly midnight, pouring rain, and we had no idea how to get from the coach station to Church Street where Jonny was wrapping up for the night. We asked countless people and got different directions every time. When we finally found him, we could do nothing but half laugh, half cry for the next five minutes. We helped him count his change and loaded into his car, where I happily sat in the backseat under a pile of bags and music equipment, with soaking wet flats and a great appreciation for simple car rides.
We had to quietly unload the car and make our way inside his place since it was so late. The room Jonny rents is in a lady's home, which is cozy, but small... and the only thing separating his room from hers is a wall. So, we tiptoed up the stairs, changed into dry clothes, and whispered our goodnights.
The next morning, we woke up and were in town by nine-thirty. After getting Jonny and his equipment to a place just steps away from where he was the night before, Leigh Anne and I decided to explore the city. We were a bit concerned at first because we were on the main streets and Liverpool was beginning to look like any other large city, with big, modern buildings and chain restaurants and cafes. Fortunately, we spotted the Albert Dock, which is like an entirely different place altogether. We admired the views and simplicity of it all before heading toward a few museums.
Our first stop was a house, preserved in the 1940s war-era style. Each room had a little plaque that asked what you would do in a certain situation brought on by the war - "How many people would you share your house with?" "If your husband were forced to leave, how would you support your family and who would take care of the kids?" We felt like trespassers since we were the only two in the building and it truly felt like we were in someone's home peering at their belongings, but it was nice to not be bumping into anyone or waiting to see the exhibits.
After that, we went to the Tate Museum, full of modern art. We started out pondering not the art, but other onlookers who were standing in awe of the works, or having intellectual conversations interpreting a particular piece. In an attempt to fit in, we strolled up to a few sculptures and the like, tilted our heads to the side, and pointing every so often to an area of the artwork, failed miserably to come up with our own interpretations. It was on the upper floors that we began to appreciate the masterpieces a little more. Leigh Anne enjoyed getting to dance to a Paul Simon remix on a disco floor in the middle of a room full of mostly naked statues, and I was taken with the art-inspired-by-poetry exhibit.
We left feeling content with the idea that we may have been somewhat enlightened and strolled along the docks, stopping now and then to read the menus posted in cafe windows and trying to discern whether or not we were hungry, but when we stumbled upon the Beatles Museum, decided food could wait.
The museum was full of all kinds of Beatles history, some of which is well-known and some that even a fanatic might not know. Kudos to John Minton and his Social History of Rock and Roll course at IPFW, which I took this summer, for covering so many of the facts I came across in the museum in-depth! I am always enthralled by original newspaper articles, actual handwritten lyrics and notes scribbled on napkins and hotel notepaper, first guitars and clothing belonging to the world's most famous musicians. It always makes them seem more like real people and not just a voice on a record.
After the Beatles experience, we stopped at a tiny cafe along the dock and had a bite to eat before heading back into town. We said hello to Jonny in between a few songs and he asked us if we'd made our way to the Cavern, which is a bar where The Beatles got their start. He pointed us in the right direction and when we stepped into Cavern Quarter, Liverpool came to life. Along the music-filled street, there was pub after pub and lots of homage to the Fab Four. We popped into the Cavern for a moment, but it was packed from wall to wall, so we made our way back out onto the street and took it in for awhile before heading back to the main part of town. We met up with Jonny and walked with him to get his dinner.
On our way back to Church Street, he ran into his friend Jack, an actor, and insisted that he show us the way to MelloMello, a laid-back pub and music venue that Jack and a few of his friends started up a few years ago. We hung out for a bit there, and discussed philosophy, psychology, and the paranormal over strawberry beer.
With a an hour or two left before it was time to head home, we were back and forth between pubs and watching Jonny. We had purchased blankets earlier in the day, knowing it would be cold if we decided to sit and listen to him. Taking them out and using them resulted in about twenty people asking us if we were homeless, if we had a warm place to sleep that night, and if we needed money. I now wish I had played this up because I may be a few pounds richer, but oh well. It is quite ridiculous how people dress here. Most of them who came up to us were girls in skimpy, sleeveless dresses and heels who were shivering to death, or men in sweatshirts whose breath you could still see in the chilly night air. I asked a few if they weren't cold themselves and this typically resulted in a scratch of the head and an utter of agreement before they walked away.
Day three in Liverpool is quite likely one of the most memorable I'll have while in England. We started off with a hot brunch which was the best meal I've had since I've been here. After that, we set out on a quest to find the Eleanor Rigby statue, which we found with the help of a local couple who walked us there. The woman gave me a bit of history on how things were when the Beatles were still around town and they gave us a bit of advice on the nightlife.
We then decided we wanted to head to the outskirts of town to visit the places that inspired so many Beatles songs - Penny Lane, Strawberry Fields, and Eleanor Rigby's gravestone - among others. We thought going off of a map ourselves would save money over doing one of the bus-led tours, but could not find transportation to save our lives. Finally, we decided a taxi would be worth it, and hopped in one with the cheeriest driver, Paul. We felt lucky to have found him, since he was a local he gave us lots of history on the area unrelated to The Beatles as well. We were able to visit Penny Lane (where I left a piece of myself forever - I lost a button to my boot there) as well as the barber shop mentioned in the song, Strawberry Fields, John Lennon's childhood home, and Eleanor Rigby's grave. Paul mentioned that a lot of people are disappointed that the landmarks are so ordinary, but I believe their simplicity is what makes them so wonderful.
We were dropped off at the Liverpool Cathedral, where we attempted to find the gardens that Jonny told us were absolutely beautiful, but unfortunately had no luck. I am always in awe of the greatness of cathedrals and churches in England. It's sometimes difficult to remember that a structure so perfect and huge and astonishing was built by someone like you.
On our way back to the center of town from the cathedral, we ended up passing by Chinatown but weren't quite sure we wanted to visit, so we kept walking and stopped at a few stores before getting a bit of alcohol to start our pub-crawl night out with. We stopped back at Jonny's place and all took a bit of a break before running to the train station. We started the night off by meeting up with his musician friend, Jez, and heading to a pub where The Beatles would go to hang out after their shows in Liverpool. After that, we went to a place called The Grapes, where there was live jazz music and a neat outdoor sitting area.
If you'll notice, I'm a little less descriptive in this section and after this pub, I can tell you we went somewhere else, a club-type deal, but I was that person who fell asleep instantly and missed the whole thing. We ended the night with a series of events that I won't publish here because it wouldn't make my momma proud, but can say that I almost devoured a delicious-looking cheese pizza that Jonny bought for us, however things went terribly awry and in the end, we took a taxi home and got the best kind of sleep.
The next morning, after taking a few aspirin and packing our things, we went to breakfast at a cafe in a cinema with Jonny and Jez, and tried our best to stay alert while they talked politics, then said our goodbyes to Jonny as he took off for Leeds. We hung around town for a bit before heading to the coach station, ready for London. A huge thanks goes out to Jonny for inviting us and having us stay!
The coach ride was not nearly as bad on the way back into London, probably because I found myself actually getting a bit of sleep here and there on the way. We arrived around 10:30 p.m. and took a taxi to our hostel, which was situated right across from Hyde Park, in between a pizza parlor and a currency exchange. When we got to our room, after battling three flights of stairs and a musty old smell, we were greeted by six Spaniards and two empty beds. The room was probably four army crawls wide, and the beds all butted up against each other so that when someone rolled over and caused their bed to shake, it rattled the bunk bed next to it as well. But sleep happily came after awhile.
The next morning we woke up early, got ready, and went to eat the breakfast provided by the hostel. I am now a firm believer that if you are starving, the most bland, horrible food can taste delicious. They had plain cornflakes and thin toast with tasteless butter and orange juice that could have passed as orange water. But we scarfed down what our stomachs could handle. With absolutely no idea of what we were going to do that first day, we caught a bus and got off at Buckingham Palace Road. We gawked at the fancy, gate-protected palace for a few moments and couldn't believe it when a guard brushed up past us on his way through the gates. There was a bit of commotion - police telling people to back away for a moment to let a car pass through - but we don't think it was anything too important.
We then proceeded to make a big loop around that part of town. We were able to witness the changing of the calvary, Trafalgar Square, the National Gallery, and eventually, cross a bridge that gave us a breathtaking view of the London Eye and Big Ben. I wish I could describe to you how magnificent this was to see, but I simply cannot find the words. We passed a sign later in our journey that described going through an exhibit was "like falling into a fairytale" and I think this is the best possible way to sum up my first day in London.
We passed over Westminster Bridge and finally attempted The Underground. The idea of the underground subway terrified me at first - being so fast-paced and massive, not to mention my fear of escalators. But after a few trips, I began to fall in love with its convenience and the feeling of beginning to master it (although we did get mixed up a few times!)
We stopped to purchase discounted play tickets to "Dreamboats and Petticoats" for later in the evening, and sat down for the best 'hot chocolate' I've ever ordered. It was actually just melted chocolate and gave us the energy we needed to proceed onto the British Library - but not before we stopped at the one and only Platform 9 3/4 at King's Cross (only a few weeks until the new Harry Potter, by the way!)
The British Library was full exhibits and galleries open to the public, but access to rooms with reading materials required a "Reader Pass" which I was unable to get since I wasn't doing any real research at the time. We spent ages in one of the galleries, however, full of original documents. Among them were the first copies of works like Jane Eyre and Beowulf, the Magna Carta and so on. They also had an exhibit solely for Alice in Wonderland which made my day! They had the original copy, handwritten by Lewis Carroll, and all sorts of subsequent interpretations published over the years.
After the library, we went back to the hostel to change into some warmer clothes and left for dinner and a musical. We grabbed some takeaway Chinese food and after finishing, settled into our seats at The Playhouse, where I was excited to see that George Bernard Shaw had presented some of his plays. The musical was set in the 1950s and was full of that era's rock and roll and what I found to be extraordinary lighting and acting. I have never seen a play or musical on stage before - aside from the occasional local one - so I was impressed. Might I mention we were the only two under the age of 60 there?
We left the theatre and found a little hole in the wall pub called the 12 Bar Cafe, which was exactly what we were looking for in terms of authenticity. It was old, dark, and loud. We watched a guy play a few folk-inspired songs, then, like the elderly ladies we were surrounded by at the play, decided to call it an early night. We had to be extremely quiet in the hostel because all of our roommates were sleeping already (which makes me feel a little less bad about going to bed "early.")
Our second day in London started out exactly the same way as the first - with a horribly gross but hunger-satisfying breakfast and no plan of action. We thought that since we were so close to Hyde Park and Kensington Gardens, we should take advantage and walk through them first. We ended up at Kensington Palace, which, even undergoing construction, was marvelous. We came out of the gardens by Albert Hall and walked our way to Kensington High Street, where there was plenty of shopping to do. I found it most exciting that there was an Urban Outfitters within my reach... because they don't exist where I'm from, so I'm always browsing online and never buying anything. I found a pair of shoes on sale, which I purchased so that I could jump up and down and exclaim that I had just purchased a pair of shoes from Urban Outfitters. Leigh Anne found an amazing orange vintage jacket/cape that truly looks Sgt. Peppers.
From there, we took The Underground to Camden Town, where we had heard there were lots of good markets and places to hang out. We heard right. Our first stop was for food at a cafe/bar where I got the best baked potato known to man and Leigh Anne had her first fish and chips in England.
We went through stand after stand at the Camden Market, where I splurged on a vintage, purple, silk dress and wished I was crafty enough to make jewelry and sell it at a market for a living.
The pubs began to call our names and we stopped in at a Cuban one for happy hour, worked our way to one we thought would be nice, but couldn't handle the smell, then were directed to an Irish "underground rock" place, went to a diner that served milkshakes made with bourbon (!) and ended at a place called The World's End. It was an epic night in Camden Town.
When we arrived back at our hostel, we heard giggling coming from inside of our room and entered, stumbling around in the darkness since we weren't allowed to use lights once people were asleep, and joined in the laughter when loud snoring from two new roommates started up, back and forth. The snoring was pretty intense and it took awhile to fall asleep.
Our final day in London, we woke up a little later and packed, put our luggage in a luggage room since we had to check out by ten, and basically just hung around town for a few hours. We did go to the British Museum but were so exhausted that it was difficult to focus on what we were reading, so our stay was short. We went through a few shops, got our postcards, had an amazing strawberry cake, and walked around a different part of Kensington Gardens, where we found the most beautiful tree in the world, until we had to leave.
The coach back arrived right on time and it was a glorious feeling to be back in my own place, with a real shower and clean bed. Looking back, there are loads of things we did not do in London, but that's the beauty in studying here instead of visiting... it's so close that we plan to visit again next month! No need to rush and no need for major planning. I could not have asked more from this trip - even as I sit here wrapping up this blog, it seems unreal to me that it actually happened. Those places one hears about in music and in movies, or reads about in books and magazines, or looks at in paintings and in photographs - they exist, and I am fortunate enough to be taking them in... in real life.
I have had so many wonderful experiences, met so many amazing people and learned so much in a month of being here. My one request is that if an opportunity presents itself to you, one of any sort that may enrich you in some way, take advantage of it. Don't hesitate. You may have to alter it a bit to make it work, or save up, or be prepared to pay it off. It is important to be careful and responsible, yes, but after twenty years of dreaming, I'm finally doing, and I could not be more in love with life than I am at this very moment.
What is it you want to do in your lifetime? What's stopping you? No excuses.
Always,
Aly
P.S. - For additional pictures, be sure to look on the left side of the screen under Photo Albums!
