Penny Lane & Liverpool Nightlife

Last Saturday, we joined a group of about 20 from Susan's class on a taxi Beatles tour. Of course it was cheesy, but it was good to see more of the city and socialize a bit with the others. When we started out, it seemed our taxi driver was obsessed with doors. The first place he took us was to the door of the place that used to be the consulate where John & Cynthia got married. That's about how he told it to us and we were all confused. None of us were big Beatles trivia buffs, so we didn't even realize John was married to a Cynthia. (Guess if I'd thought about it, I'd realize that was Julian Lennon's mom.) Then he took us to the Liverpool Institute of Art, where Paul went to school and now apparently he bought and owns the school. Again, our taxi guide took us to the doorway and seemed to make a big fuss about how it was "where Sir Paul walked into the school" -- I just never got that excited about doorways, myself.


Anyway, the tour got a bit better as it went on, but there were other oddities, like when they made us go inside the "barber shop" (now, more like a beauty salon) on Penny Lane to have a group photo while we held a Penny Lane sign up. Really, the photo could've been taken anywhere and it was hard to get 20 of us in the photo, considering it was so small. But, we now have photographic evidence of the event.


We also took a look at what used to be the bank on Penny Lane (which they also sing about in the song, sort of). The place has since become a surgeon's office. Our taxi driver couldn't understand why the group was getting all excited about a plaque on the wall. What he didn't realize is that the tour group was a bunch of doctors taking a course at the School of Tropical Medicine and the plaque had the name of one of the surgeons who had taken the same diploma course (as shown by the letters behind his name) that all these doctors are in. It was a geek-out moment for the doctors.

I think my favorite part of the tour is when we went to the church where John and Paul met (at the tender ages of 15 & 17!) and they had a picture of the yellow submarine that John drew when he was a kid. The story is that John and his friend David (who donated the picture) saw a beached whale when they were kids and apparently the whale was decaying and yellowed as a result. Hence, the inspiration for John's drawing shortly thereafter.



Saturday night we went to some clubs -- good lord, the place is hoppin' on weekends! We saw this guy, Joe Driscoll (from New York), perform. He was a one man-band with loop pedal an octave pedal and guitar -- he did beat boxing and rap type stuff -- I liked it for about the first three songs and then it got kinda old and gimicky. He did a cover medley of a Led Zeppelin song (No Quarter, I think it was?) and then went into "No Sleep Till Brooklyn" by the Beastie Boys. His guitar was out of tune and so it was kinda bad -- we left shortly thereafter... Anyway, people go out at night here -- there's an area where all the nightclubs are and there are millions of people everywhere! Quite different from the US, for sure. It was quite overwhelming, really. The girls all dress in next to nothing with stiletto heels and lots of sequins and glitter, and we were all bundled up in jackets and jeans feeling overdressed and under-dressed all at once, yet amused by the outlandish attire.

This weekend our plan is to go to Chester and see what there is to see there. We thought about going to Edinburgh, but transportation confusing and surprisingly expensive (yeah, we know, people warned us about that). Chester will be much simpler and cheap and something new, so hopefully we'll have a good time with that.

Liverpudlian

Everyone here talks like the Beatles. Or worse, at which point we just can't understand each other (sometimes, anyway). I stopped into a bike shop to inquire about cheap, student rate bikes (we're feeling poor due to weakness of the US dollar right now). The guy said the cheapest he had was for 90 quid, "the blue one over there." I said, "This one right here?" He said, "You call that white?" Nevermind. Note to self: Only Americans use the term "right" to mean something immediately near oneself.

Home Sweet Home

So, I've walked all over Liverpool -- well, round in circles, really. From home to the University (of Liverpool) to City Centre (downtown) and back again. My knees hurt from all that walking. And my shoulders, because I was carrying my backpack with my laptop in it to try to find some WiFi spots. There aren't many. Thankfully, I fixed the wireless in our homestay house. By moving it to a phone jack that actually works, as opposed to the former one which apparently didn't. Not so many tech geeks in Liverpool. It's an adjustment for me.


I haven't hit all the Beatles tour spots like Penny Lane or The Cavern. I figure I shouldn't blow my wad all at once. It's a cool city -- lots of bustling and whatnot. They're supposed to be the Cultural Centre of Europe in 2008, so there's lots of construction and cranes EVERYWHERE.

Liverpool: City of Cranes

There was some round the world yacht race that started here the first weekend we were here. On our second day here, we took a bus and found the bus detoured because of some women's cycle race in Sefton Park *just* before we were about to get off the bus. Then we kept going and going and then some nice people explained to us where we were (as if we knew anything on our second day). Thankfully, the good doctor remembered that Smithdown Road is where all the shops are where we're to go shopping because it's near our new home, so we got off near there and found our way back. So, that was fun.

Aye, we made it!

Hello world. We are in Liverpool now. Once we landed on solid British soil and we were in transit at the London Heathrow Airport from one terminal to another, I looked at my favorite Kiwi and said "We're in England!" Her response was: "well, we're still in transit." I didn't quite get it until we went through Immigration in Manchester. Yikes, it was a bit scary -- the Immigration Officer was a bit suspicious as to why I might want to spend three months on travel in England while my sweetie went to school the whole time. Finally, after much interrogation and a couple phone calls by the Immigration Officer, she let us through. I had forgotten about the queries about whether we have enough money to spend while in England, so I didn't bring a bunch of bank statements or anything. But it seems that by explaining that we are a couple trying to establish interdependence for possible Australian immigration, she was finally satisfied. Whew!

So, we caught our train from Manchester to Liverpool, then a cab to our new homestay near Sefton Park. At first, we were greeted by the neighbor, Barbara, who was cleaning and helping out our landlady, Brigitte, who was out on errands. We hoisted all our luggage up three flights of stairs to our charming pink bedroom. Shortly thereafter, Brigitte showed up and we were amused to meet the somewhat funky London native. She offered to take us in the car around town and show us the way to Liverpool University and Smithdowne Street, where all of our retail needs would be met. It was a lovely sunny day and we attempted to maintain as much information as we could in her whirlwhind tour of Liverpool in our jet-lagged states. As it turned out, Brigitte was planning to go away with her husband and two daughers (all of whom we met very briefly) for the weekend and leave us to the house by ourselves.

T-Minus One Month

Travel distances from Christchurch, NZ

Yes, it's true. I'm becoming an accidental world traveler. I've never had a strong inner calling for world travel; yet, here I am counting down the days until I hop onto a plane to cross "the pond" to start a new life, starting with three months in Liverpool, England and then off to Melbourne, Australia in December 2007 and then... who knows?

My friend, R, is jealous of me because I've already been to more continents than her. She aspires to see the world, and her goal is to visit every continent (except, perhaps, Antarctica), while I've managed to visit more than her "accidentally"! Well, not entirely... but that's how it feels. In some ways, it feels like it "just happened" without any real intention of my own, except to be with the one I love.

So, I've found myself in a relationship with a world-traveling doctor from New Zealand. It's kind of fun to say that -- it sounds so exotic and adventurous. But, in actuality it's true... and it's the most efficient way to explain my situation. In New Zealand, world travel is a national past time. I suppose it makes sense, if you think about the fact that the country consists of a couple of small islands about in the South Pacific, with the nearest neighboring land mass (Australia) being some 2000km away . So, naturally, world travel is no big deal to the New Zealander because everything is far away from their homeland!

This is a bit difficult for us those of us in America to understand. Ours is a large country, with so much at our disposal that many Americans simply can't understand why anyone would want to live anywhere else. It is expansive, with every extreme of heat and cold, wet and dry climates, and a wonderful collection of flora and fauna. To show our love for this land, we've built wide open roads to drive our millions of beloved cars back and forth over it. I, like most Americans, have grown accustomed to all the comforts of our home: central heat and air conditioning, dozens of choices for any consumer product that one can possibly imagine, and a ravenous hunger to burn up as much petroleum in as many ways as we can. America fancies itself as the world police, with a government that stampedes the planet like a bull in a china shop. We are a young country with a short history and a big, fat ego. Nothing more than spoiled children. Yes, I am entirely guilty of being an American born into a world of convenience and competitive low prices for goods that I don't even need. And now I will see where it all began -- from where the Imperialists came to pillage and conquer foreign lands and then forced them to succumb to European ideologies. Ideologies that are due for a makeover.

I will only be a few short months in England. Once we move to Australia, I will find myself seeking not only new employment and a visa to allow me to stay in the country, but also a new spirit, a new mentality, a new paradigm that will allow me to keep up with the ever-ambitious doctor who already has her sights on Southeast Asia. So far, counting my own, I've been to four continents, two of which I've visited in the past year to be with my beloved Kiwi doctor. Who would've guessed I would end up in Africa, New Zealand, Europe and Australia in the span of a year? Certainly not me!

I was in dire need of a catalyst for change -- my life has been too stagnant for far too long. Mind you, I realize that going to England and Australia is hardly a far cry from the American way of life. However, for this American, who really never considered leaving the country (except for political asylum from our current "commander in chief"), it is a big deal. And, considering that my favorite Kiwi is not one to be "pinned down" to one country for very long, this is likely a mere introduction to a much greater worldly expansion for me. I can't wait to find out how I will "reprogram" myself in this new realm and to see what will happen next!

So, the intention for this blog is to write about my experiences, thoughts and ideas as I allow myself to plunge into this new expatriate lifestyle. It is for all my friends in the US who want to know what I'm up to. I hope I can keep up with it, to keep it interesting and useful. We shall see...