So there I was sitting on my train, minding my own business at stupid o’clock this morning – looking forward to getting into work early to clear some stuff, when an announcement is made that all the trains were off and we were getting thrown off at the next stop, Birkenhead Central. Bollocks! That meant cramming into various rickety, sweaty buses with 4.73 million other commuters*, fighting to get on, fighting to get a seat and, probably, just fighting. Then I had a brain wave.
Why not walk down to the waterfront and get the ferry over the Mersey? one of the most iconic ferry rides in the world. I’ve never done it to commute, only as a tourist once, or twice. So I did. Except it was closed and I had to walk a mile and a half to the other terminal in Seacombe, because I’m a stubborn MF. It was mostly along the waterfront and a pleasant walk anyway. Taking my place upstairs on the front of the ferry, in the early morning sunshine, listening to Led Zep IV, I had what the romantic poets used to call ‘a spontaneous overflow of powerful emotions’** (often referred to as a ‘Spont’ in the 1537 household). Wow.
The Liverpool waterfront is, rightly, designated a World heritage Site, all those stunning buildings and the newer, impressive, but far less beautiful ones too. The Liver Building, Port of Liverpool Building, the Cunard Building, the Anglican and Catholic cathedrals … it really is just beautiful, what a great way to the start the day as it all slides across your view. I narrowly resisted the urge to ‘do a Titanic’ at the front of the boat, which is just as well as the ferry similarly resisted the urge to ‘do a Titanic’ in the middle of the Mersey.
573 Down (still)
*figures approximate at time of going to press.
**mind you they all used to wear frilly shirts, take huge amounts of laudanum and spend their time hanging around Italy trying to catch consumption and ball chicks, mostly successfully.