Post #2: England-Manchester, Liverpool (Sat. Sept 4 - Mon. Sept 6)

Just a heads up about how I plan to do my blog posts.  Basically the title is going to describe what country I am in and what cities I visited over the time frame.  This way, I will have a new blog entry each time I move onto another country.  This will be good for summarizing each country and give you a good idea as to how much time I spent there and exactly where I went.  Therefore, I won't be posting new blog entries every day but rather at random intervals.  So, if you wish to be notified when I have posted a new entry I suggest you subscribe to my blog by entering your email address on the right hand column where it says "subscribe via email". 

 “People travel to faraway places to watch, in fascination, the kind of people they ignore at home.” – Dagobert D. Runes

Saturday September 4, 2010
Well, I made it out of Calgary airport and onto the plane that departed for my first destination—Manchester, UK. 

On the plane I ended up sitting beside a young couple whom had taken ten days off work and were on their way to Europe for a getaway.  Right as I took my seat, I noticed that the girl had just finished reading the book “Blink” by Malcolm Gladwell. I asked her if I could take a look at it and five hours later I was reading the acknowledgements as I was unable to put the book down.  I don’t even recall taking a bathroom break—that is how good it was.  Or, it could have been the fact that I had the window seat and would have had to awaken both parties to get out.  Either way, the book was gripping and appealing.  The premise was that people should trust their first impressions more often when making decisions in their lives; especially decisions that deal with complexity and a variety of variables. He states that the subconscious mind is better than the conscious mind at making complex decisions.  It seems hard to believe, but he has some convincing arguments as to why this may be true.  Once I realized the premise of the book, I chuckled to myself; it was dealing precisely with one of the goals that I am hoping to accomplish on my excursion.  That specific goal being: to learn to incorporate my intuition more into my decision making process.  So in a way, it was very ironic that I found myself reading this book only ten minutes into my journey. Maybe this was symbolizing something yet to come or maybe it was strictly a coincidence, but I hope to find out. 

After landing, I found myself standing in a long, basically stagnant, line at Manchester airport waiting to get across the border at 7:00am Saturday morning UK time (12:00am Saturday morning Saskatoon time).   During this time, I noticed that a male behind me—in his early thirties—was wearing an old Hartford Whalers hat (an old NHL team).  Being curious I asked him if he was a big hockey fan—he was not.  He commented as to why, with which I responded, “Ya, you make good comments (lol inside joke).”  After the hockey talk, he suggested that I leave Manchester right away and head for either Liverpool, England or Edinburgh, Scotland--both in the United Kingdom.  I asked him why and he simply stated that these places are superior to Manchester.  I was a little suspect at first, but then as we talked more, I realized that he might have a good idea as to what he was talking about.  He had lived in the area for two years and had also been to numerous places around the world; his passport had probably been stamped more times than a twenty-two year old bar star’s hand.   He had even visited North Korea, which is fascinating seeing that it is extremely difficult to get across the border—or so I am told.  So I booked my train ticket to Liverpool and was off in twenty minutes after having only arrived in Manchester thirty minutes prior.  Little did I know that Liverpool was the city where the Beatles grew up—a nice little addition which I found out upon referencing my guidebook on the train ride there. 

The train to Liverpool was about a forty-five minute ride and EXTREMELY busy with no air conditioning—or so it seemed.  I actually had to stand for the duration of the entire trip.  Luckily however, there were two old ladies to keep me company and give me a crash course on what Liverpool was all about.  This was my first experience dealing with the English accent and I must say--I am surprised this is considered English at all.  I don’t mean to be rude, but there would be times that I would only catch maybe one or two words out of an entire monologue that these ladies were presenting.  Nevertheless, I was able to string together the important information after having asked politely numerous times for them to repeat themselves. 

Once arriving in Liverpool, I walked for about thirty minutes to the hostel where I had decided to stay.  It was during this thirty minute walk that I came to the conclusion that my backpack was too heavy. Instead of embracing the wonderful visuals during the saunter, I was contemplating on what to dispose of from my pack.

I arrived at the hostel at approximately 1:00pm local time. I was absolutely exhausted seeing as that I had slept zero hours on the plane and only four hours the previous night; I was basically running on 4 hours of sleep over a two day period.  My plan was to engage in a short power nap before going out to explore the town. However, during the process of checking in the desk clerk informed me that there was a Liverpool soccer game to take place at 2:00pm.  He said that it would be a great game to attend and strongly recommended that I head down to the stadium to engage in my first ever professional soccer experience.  After a period of short contemplation, I agreed.  I put my pack in a locker and headed out to the game.

The first hostel I stayed in which was in Liverpool. 

 I was a little late getting there and the ticket booth had closed down; you could now only purchase tickets at the gates with cash.  This was not a viable option for me seeing as that I had yet to acquire any pounds (the local currency in England). So I went to a guard and explained my situation.  Feeling my quandary, he took me to the ticket booth and requested that they open up so I could buy a ticket with my visa.  Luckily they were also sympathetic to my situation and thereafter, I was walking up the stairs, ticket in hand, to my very first English soccer game.  The game was great and Liverpool ended up winning 4-1.  There were a couple things that I really didn’t understand:  why the fans would cheer at certain points.  At one point I thought that maybe they were just cheering for a particular player when he touched the ball—and to this I am still unsure.  The ticket cost me twenty pounds and it was at this point that I asked myself, “what exactly is the local exchange rate?”   I knew from consulting my guidebook that the pound was stronger than the Euro (the currency used throughout Europe except the UK).  After exchanging some Canadian dollar after the game, I came to realize that the exchange rate was at 1CAD-0.63GBP which would ultimately make my Canadian dollars inferior to the pound.  At that point, I knew that I had to limit my spending for the duration of my stay in the UK--basically a ten day period. 

After the game, I headed back to my room to catch up on some much needed sleep.   However, as I quickly found out plans rarely work out as expected while travelling.  As I entered my room, there was an Australian mate with whom I engaged in conversation with for about an hour.  He was in his early forties and was involved in real estate in Western Australia.  After we made each others acquaintances, I was ready for my nap.   Right as I was preparing to close my eyes a guy by the name of Dineshwin (Dave) entered the room.  He was of South Africa descent and is one of the most intriguing people I have met—interestingly enough only two days into my trip.   He is a dentist whom had been working in England and was travelling around--much like myself.  We talked for about three hours before he headed out and I went to bed.  At this point I had planned to only sleep a couple hours and was planning on checking out the town afterwards.  This didn’t end up being the case; instead I slept till 5:00am the following morning.

Sunday September 5, 2010
Waking up and feeling rested, I realized that Dave and Scott (the Australian) were sleeping.  Not being able to go back to bed, I grabbed a book and headed for the lobby.  Here I spent the next three hours or so reading Nelson Mandela’s autobiography “A Long Walk to Freedom”.  As I was reading the book, I thought about what the desk clerk had told me upon check in, “we serve breakfast at 8:00am at a cost of four pounds”.  I didn’t originally purchase the breakfast option upon checking in because I didn’t know if I was going to be up or not; nor did I think it was that good of a deal for four pounds.  However, I hadn’t eaten anything in quite some time and it was technically lunch time in Canada;  so my plan changed and I decided to try the breakfast out.  To my surprise it was the best meal that I had consumed since I left Saskatoon.  On top of that, my original feeling that four pounds was expensive has turned out to be furthest from the truth. 

After I finished eating, I headed back up to my room to try and cut down on some weight in my pack.  At this point, Dave was awake and was on his way to McDonalds for some hot chocolate and pancakes.  He said that he was planning on checking out the Cathedrals and asked if I would like to tag along.  Not having any other plans, I accepted.  I told him that I would meet him at McDonalds once I was done going through my pack. The little things were really adding up: extra paper, large journal, cards, two lighters, aloe, lotion, two big bottles of mosquito repellent, Southeast Asia guide book and among other little things.  I came to the conclusion that I would have to discard these items and I pulled the trigger.  It was hard to abandon items that had never been used but I really didn’t have any other option; it was either a fifty dollar loss outright or undefined amounts spent on future visits to a massage therapist and chiropractor (lol).  

Once I finished cutting down the weight in my pack, I went and met up with Dave at McDonalds and we headed for the Anglican Cathedral.  I have posted some pictures which don’t come close to catching the essence of this remarkable piece of architecture. 

Me in front of the Anglican Cathedral.  Largest one in the UK and 5th largest in the world.  

  As you can see they are getting ready for the Sunday mass and don't come close to filling the vast space within.

The ceilings are the highest of any building in the United Kingdom

It is really hard to understand the scale of the building without actually being there.

When I was planning my trip I didn’t think I would find the architecture that interesting, but I was completely wrong;  it is not only interesting but inspirational as well.  Some of this can be attributed to Dave in helping me look at the Cathedrals-- and the religion within-- from more of a philosophical perspective.

At this point Dave mentioned that he was going to attend a Sunday morning sermon and asked if I would care to join him.  Not having any other plans and being open to pretty much anything, I accepted his invitation.  We jumped into his car and headed for the church.  The type of mass that we would be attending was a preaching/singing/praise the lord type sermon.  It was actually very interesting to attend since it was so unorthodox in comparison to the conventional mass service that I have attended in the past.  I know that if I would have been younger and attended these sermons, which held a rock band, I wouldn’t have fallen asleep on a regular basis and would have most likely found myself asking my parents for a guitar (lol). 

After the sermon we headed to the Catholic Cathedral.  It wasn’t as aesthetically pleasing as the Anglican church but it was still very striking. 

The ceiling in the Catholic church

Inside the Catholic church.  It is a lot bigger than it looks with seating circling the altar. 

At this point I mentioned to Dave that I needed to head down to Albert Docks to catch a Beatles bus tour. He dropped me off and I bought a ticket to the “The Magical Mystery Tour”.

While loading the bus I diligently looked for a seat available beside anyone who looked interesting.  To my luck, there was a seat available next to a pretty girl named Johanna from Sweden.  I requested permission to sit down—permission granted; at which point I found myself almost instantaneously engaged in conversation.  For the duration of the tour my new friend and I became acquainted.

A picture of Johanna inside the place where the Beatles played growing up called the "Cavern Club" after the tour

The tour was two hours long and showed the homes the Beatles grew up in, the schools they attended, locations throughout the city that inspired them, etc.

The street where Ringo Star lived

The street that was of obvious influence for the song "Penny Lane"

The strawberry fields located only a couple blocks from John Lennon's home growing up

John Lennon's house during his childhood and adolescent years

The house that Paul McCartney lived in

Me crouched beside a sign stating which house Paul McCartney lived in.

 I didn't end up getting any pictures of George Harrison's house but it was fairly similar to Ringo's.  Something that I found interesting is that George Harrison joined the Beatles when he was only 14 and they were 17.  Lennon didn't want him in the band due to age difference, but McCartney was able to convince John otherwise and thus, Harrison became apart of the group. 

The tour ended up being very good and was fairly cheap as well at fourteen pounds.  The pictures don’t do the layout of the streets justice.  The feeling you get from walking around such old areas is very indescribable.  I was beginning—in just a short time—to understand the fascination people have with England.  We ended the tour at a place called “The Cavern Club”.  This was the club where the Beatles performed when they were still starting out. Now it is a bar that basically does Beatles covers.  The club was very small; even smaller than “Buds” and “The Roxy” in Saskatoon.  I ended up sitting down with Johanna, her dad and her brother.  Her dad’s English wasn’t the best but proposed the idea that him and I go up on stage to sing some Karaoke.  He was going to play the drums and I was going to do vocals.  I accepted his advancement, but then we realized it wasn’t going to work because the drums were out of service and I wasn’t nearly motivated enough to do it on my own.  At this point, they went back to their hotel for supper and I headed back to the hostel to get some food and catch some sleep.

When I woke up Monday morning I made a last second decision to move on from Liverpool and head to Edinburgh, Scotland—a four hour train ride north.  I packed up my bag-- which was now significantly lighter— went to the train station, bought a ticket and was off to my next destination.