We all live in a yellow submarine…

So I went to Liverpool. On the day of the Grand National (Didn’t win, what happened Dun Doire?). And on the anniversary of the sinking of the Titanic. Well the anniversary of her hitting the iceberg. It took a while for the old girl to go down.

I’ve never liked scousers. So I paid the extortionate train fare to change that. I invested GBP £22 sterling to see what the place had to offer.

To start with its a building site. You also get a vague smell of sewerage every now and then. Next year Liverpool is the European City of Culture. Which must be something big as the place has plenty of work being done on it. Here’s a photo of the famous Liver building. To the very left of the picture is where they are connecting the Leeds-Liverpool canal with the Albert docks. To the right is a couple heavy petting on a bench.

Liver, Cunard and Port of Liverpool buildings

You can go on one of these duck boat things from WWII around the docks. So I did. The docks are surprisingly clean as under the Customs and Excise building is a huge mussel farm. Which has put me off mussels.

I then went to the Cavern Club. Which is where The Beatles started playing and not a gay strip bar as my mate Rob thought. Anyway, the actual Cavern club is now the fire exit for this one and not really where this one is. Basically a bodge job.

Cavern club, sort of the home of the beatles

Then I went to church. Twice. They have some pretty spectacular spots to sleep off your Sunday morning hangover in Liverpool – good job as it has the highest intake of alcohol per person in England. You can see why. Slowly the Aintree crowd started to return and the journey back was eventful. If you like singing.

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