Travel Thursday #3

A Day In Liverpool

The piano does not cry, it solely weeps at the beauty of newly explored paths. This journey is my definition of spontaneity, and I hope more is added to it by the end of the day. If all goes well, I will successfully immerse myself in a historic culture known to many and won’t fail to witness the birth of a new kind of appreciation. The language I know, so this time I will not feel as distanced, unless the uniqueness of this city which I have read so much about is even greater than I anticipate it to be. As always, only time can tell these things. And so we lift off.

‘We are over the clouds.’ A pink tint of purple inhabits this morning sky, making me feel invincible. I think there is more to travelling than meets the eye, for most of the beauty meets the heart that is.

I once heard someone say that the loudest person in the room is the most insecure. It takes immense intelligence to remain silent and listen, but does a writer do that since he technically doesn’t speak a word? These are the kinds of thoughts that endlessly roam my mind.

There is a blanket of blue hanging over all of us here, yet if you look out into the distance, you can spot a cloud or two here and there. I am very excited to encounter the locals, perhaps because I heard of their friendliness, but honestly I think it is solely because of my love for observation. The man to my left would most likely admire my curiosity if he took his wandering eyes off of the window and looked down at my notebook. The fact that I cannot go incognito with my artistry is scary. The man to my left just got off the bus.

A magical mystery tour bus just drove by here at the Albert Dock. I went to the Beatles Story but the first exhibition is on at 10 a.m. It is now 9.38 a.m., so I decided to stop for a coconut vanilla latte in Costa.

The silence of the dock is simply beautiful. The whole place seems to only come to life at 10 a.m., but a few places are already open. I went into one souvenir shop and purchased a guitar pick and a keychain. My encounter with the cashier was a pleasant one. He was the first local I spoke to. Enquiring about my nationality, he radiated curiosity like no other.

I always find myself in cafés along my travels. There is something magical about their nature, but this one here transcends the ordinary magic that I am familiar with. I feel as if time stood still around fifty years ago in this place. It’s fascinating to me how a 35 minute long flight, followed by a further 30 minutes by bus, can teleport me back in time to the nineteen-sixties.

There is nothing special about the coffee I’m sipping on, in fact it lacks a bit of sweetness, but again, it is the place I currently inhabit that evokes immense comfort and a sense of security. My unfamiliarity with the local currency provoked me to ask questions which resulted in a sweet laugh. It is now 9:53 a.m., and as I finish my coffee, I am getting ready to leave this frozen-in-time café and continue my adventure.

I seem to have lost my pencil, so I will continue my writing with a pen from here on now. Upon arriving at the Beatles story, I was met with an enormous crowd of people, all patiently waiting to get in just like me. The adult ticket was £15.95, and you received a device with headphones through which you could listen to the story of the world’s most influential band to this day.

There are no words to describe the feeling you felt once you went inside. The walls were filled with art, posters, and information about the band’s origins. Taking the time to read each piece gave me a glimpse into what it could have been like to be alive during their prime.

Seeing John Lennon's sunglasses right in front of my eyes was life-changing. They were more than just spectacles he wore to protect himself from the sun; they were a fashion statement which inspires people all around the world to this very day.

Despite my love for the Beatles as a whole, it is primarily John that holds a special place in my heart. As I explored the section dedicated to him, I came across a framed image of the lyrics to his song 'Imagine' graffitied onto some wall. This was allegedly done some time after his death, which indicates, along with a plethora of other things, the influence he had on the world.

I could endlessly pen about the feelings this place evoked in me, but words don't do this experience justice. It's simply one of those places you have to visit and immerse yourself in fully to grasp its beauty and all that comes with.

To finish off my Beatle experience, I purchased a pair of cheap 'John Lennon' style glasses and his book 'In His Own Write' in the fab store.

I began to feel hunger, so I decided to stop in Tate for a glass of wine and a soup. When I got there it was 11:46 a.m., and breakfast was still being served. As I awaited 12 p.m. so I could order a roast cajun spiced tomato and pepper soup with brown bread, I decided to give a cup of 2014 Chinain wine a try.

I can now say with certainty that this kind of lifestyle is one I would gladly live on a daily basis; sleeping on planes, landing in new cities every other day, meeting new people and getting to know new cultures. There is a freedom that comes with this, one that is unattainable as long as you remain stationary. But then again, what do I know? Perhaps I am simply not made for a stale life of dull cycles and daily monotonous actions.

What I fear most is the repetition of life, even though there is a certain cycle in my life taking on a repeat as we speak. (One which I will not discuss here.) I figure that is why I fall in love with new destinations so quickly. I do not know if I mentioned this already, but there is a poetry in the air here. Not the same kind of poetry as in the air of Paris, and definitely one that differs from that of Amsterdam; it is a poetry of friendliness and comfort. It might just be so that the Albert Dock is like a little village onto itself in which everyone knows each other, even though tourists pass through here on a daily basis. Whatever the case may be, this dock undoubtedly stole my heart.

As seagulls fly over the Mersey Ferries, I come to find that this city is infamous for its astounding silence, one which inspires even the ordinary passerby. I wish I could stop time and experience this bliss for much longer, but since my time here is limited, I am forced to swiftly move on to my next destination; Sefton park.

My first impression of Sefton park is similar to that of a squirrel finding a new tree to swiftly disappear up. The bus ride was relatively short and pleasurable, but it does not compare to the park itself. Trees the height of skyscrapers shaped this uncorrupted piece of land into a sort of city inhabited by seagulls and squirrels.

I stopped for a coffee in a café deep inside the heart of the park, where despite the low prices, the food was good. My plan for the next few hours is to wander around and find a place to read and have a cigarette. I feel emancipated from the busy city and concrete buildings, which always seem to cave in on me with time, no matter where I am. My coffee is getting cold.

'I sat belonely' by a tree,
reading John Lennon's poetry,
imagining a world at peace,
but hatred is all that I sees,
and so I glanced down at the page,
to see a world without no rage.
The only problem is that we
can only see that in poetry.

vii.ii.mmxviii

Sources -

All photographs were taken by me.

रामराम