It was a real luxury this morning not to have to rush off anywhere.
I woke up in Malcolm’s lounge in Liverpool at around 7.30 a.m. and made tea in his kitchen before returning
to my sleeping bag on his settee to read my devotionals and have a bit of quiet prayer time.
Malcolm joined me for tea a little later and then he went across to Aigburth Road to buy us newspapers – him
The Times and me
The Independent (not my usual newspaper but it seemed silly to buy two copies of
The Times).
He cooked bacon and eggs for breakfast which was very welcome before we walked to St. Michael’s Station to catch a train into Liverpool Central.
Malcolm showed me the site of where a Turk had been recently shot outside
The Belgrave pub in St. Michael’s.
The individual, named
Bahman, appeared to have been the victim of a gang execution.
We arrived at Liverpool Central Station at just before midday and strolled up Bold Street to visit one of Christ Church’s congregation and client of mine, Caroline, who runs a fashion business from a small workshop/shop in one of the side streets.
We spent an hour with her talking about business,the recession, the church and occupational psychology and employee behavior.
Sara would have enjoyed that discussion.
After our cha, Malcolm and I walked down to
Liverpool One, the new shopping centre of Liverpool and strolled around
Albert Dock and the new
Echo Arena.
Liverpool is a fantastic city these days – so changed from when I lived there in the drab 70s.
With apologies to the Scouser readers of this blog, I must repeat a great joke which Malcolm told me which goes something like this
- “Back in the dark days of the 70s if you left your car anywhere in Liverpool you were likely to return to it with the wheels removed and standing on bricks. However, since Liverpool became the European City of Culture that no longer happens; when you return to your car it is now propped up on books!” After a coffee in
Liverpool One (a free one thanks to my Caffe Nero loyalty card) we caught the train back to St. Michael’s and read some of Bahman’s tributes on our way back to Malcolm’s flat.
I quickly loaded up the car, finally said my fond farewells to Liverpool at around 3.30 p.m. and drove the ninety miles or so to Walsall to attend the Walsall v. Saints game.
Supper tonight was a prawn chow mein bought in a Chinese takeaway, not far from the Banks’s Stadium, where I chatted in Mandarin (only one word in all honesty) to the two little children of the proprietor. Should have stayed in the Chinese!
The game was, to say the least, frustrating with Saints failing to convert good crosses time and time again, a handball in the penalty area was overlooked, and finally conceding a silly goal at the other end.
We all left Walsall feeling gutted with a 1-0 defeat and still a long way back to the south.
The ground was half-filled with Saints fans too.
I will not dwell too much on the game.
I had a good drive back home and arrived back in Winterslow at 15 minutes past midnight.
How nice it was to be back in my own bed after two very emotional and tiring days up north.
It was a real luxury this morning not to have to rush off anywhere. I woke up in Malcolm’s lounge in Liverpool at around 7.30 a.m. and made tea in his kitchen before returning to my sleeping bag on his settee to read my devotionals and have a bit of quiet prayer time. Malcolm joined me for tea a little later and then he went across to Aigburth Road to buy us newspapers – him The Times and me The Independent (not my usual newspaper but it seemed silly to buy two copies of The Times). He cooked bacon and eggs for breakfast which was very welcome before we walked to St. Michael’s Station to catch a train into Liverpool Central. Malcolm showed me the site of where a Turk had been recently shot outside The Belgrave pub in St. Michael’s. The individual, named Bahman, appeared to have been the victim of a gang execution. We arrived at Liverpool Central Station at just before midday and strolled up Bold Street to visit one of Christ Church’s congregation and client of mine, Caroline, who runs a fashion business from a small workshop/shop in one of the side streets. We spent an hour with her talking about business,the recession, the church and occupational psychology and employee behavior. Sara would have enjoyed that discussion. After our cha, Malcolm and I walked down to Liverpool One, the new shopping centre of Liverpool and strolled around Albert Dock and the new Echo Arena. Liverpool is a fantastic city these days – so changed from when I lived there in the drab 70s. With apologies to the Scouser readers of this blog, I must repeat a great joke which Malcolm told me which goes something like this - “Back in the dark days of the 70s if you left your car anywhere in Liverpool you were likely to return to it with the wheels removed and standing on bricks. However, since Liverpool became the European City of Culture that no longer happens; when you return to your car it is now propped up on books!” After a coffee in Liverpool One (a free one thanks to my Caffe Nero loyalty card) we caught the train back to St. Michael’s and read some of Bahman’s tributes on our way back to Malcolm’s flat. I quickly loaded up the car, finally said my fond farewells to Liverpool at around 3.30 p.m. and drove the ninety miles or so to Walsall to attend the Walsall v. Saints game. Supper tonight was a prawn chow mein bought in a Chinese takeaway, not far from the Banks’s Stadium, where I chatted in Mandarin (only one word in all honesty) to the two little children of the proprietor. Should have stayed in the Chinese! The game was, to say the least, frustrating with Saints failing to convert good crosses time and time again, a handball in the penalty area was overlooked, and finally conceding a silly goal at the other end. We all left Walsall feeling gutted with a 1-0 defeat and still a long way back to the south. The ground was half-filled with Saints fans too. I will not dwell too much on the game. I had a good drive back home and arrived back in Winterslow at 15 minutes past midnight. How nice it was to be back in my own bed after two very emotional and tiring days up north. 
No comments:
Post a Comment