ANALYSIS/OPINION:
Part 3 of a three-part series
The advice was solid: You can’t see it all in a week. But I could damn sure try.
During a week in and around London, The Washington Times was graciously granted press tours of some of the bounty in greater England thanks to Viator, a TripAdvisor tour-brokering firm that creates ambitious-yet-satisfying day trips as well as multiple-day excursions in Europe and around the world. For my purposes, I would take three day trips from my home base away from home in London.
After Windsor Castle, Bath and Stonehenge in my first outing, followed by a luxury day trip to Paris, the third and final outing from my temporary London HQ took me far northwest of London, to a working-class port town that likely would be known only to locals were it not for four local lads who banded together to form the most iconic rock act of all time.
And so on to the northwest of Britannia for the Beatles and Liverpool Rail Day Trip, an all-day, self-guided sojourn by Evan Evans from the English capital up to the city on the River Mersey that was on the map for hundreds of years before the Fab Four made it world-famous — enshrining it, and its highly talented native quartet — forever in the popular imagination.
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It’s early, and I just got back from Paris less than seven hours ago, but I manage to pull myself out of my bed at the Novotel in the west of London. I’m exhausted almost beyond measure after nearly a full week of traveling — to say nothing of a trip from London to Paris and back in a single day — but if I don’t move on now, I might never again have this chance to see where it all started.
And so back on London’s amazing Tube station to get to Euston Station a major rail hub for those seeking train passage throughout the U.K. I am handed a first-class round-trip Virgin Trains trip ticket up to Liverpool, which will whisk me the 220 miles up to the northwest of England in less than three hours.
This is first-class rail service. Breakfast is served along with drinks a-plenty — spiked or otherwise. Eggs Benedict over muffin and bacon, plus hot tea and water and juice, fill my stomach as I watch the English countryside fly by at lightning speed while enjoying their food. It’s once again another reminder of how poor is train travel in my home country, as is our American habit of over-inquiring as to people’s homelands: Today is only the second time on this entire weeklong trip that someone has asked me from where I hail, courtesy of a rather friendly porter.
It’s a sparsely populated vessel this day, so I’m able to stretch out a bit and take a nap on my way north, fully contented.
Disembarking at Liverpool Lime Street railway station (Lime St, Liverpool L1 1JD, UK), I walk outside into a somewhat-foggy, chilly morning. I’m regretting a bit my choice of shorts, but this is an adventure, and I must keep the spirit of new discoveries in the forefront, no matter of any such inconvenience.
My initial impressions of Liverpool are somewhat subverted as I head west through the thoroughly modern St Johns Shopping Centre (125 St George’s Pl, Liverpool L1 1LY, UK, +44 151 709 0916) toward the docks. From Albert Dock I turn and face east away from the waterfront, and in this view I can take in the schism of Liverpool: ancient churches, fading 20th century capitalist ventures next to brand-new high-rise condos — at once respecting its past while re-inventing itself for the future.
Albert Dock warehouses several major dining and cultural venues, including the Merseyside Maritime Museum and a statue of Billy Fury, a British rock ’n’ roller most remembered for tunes like “Halfway to Paradise” and “Maybe Tomorrow.”
More or less every business has some Beatles-related decor, food item or motif, but that’s of course to be expected. But just down the docks is what I really came here for. In the lobby of The Beatles Story (Britannia Vaults, Albert Dock, Liverpool L3 4AD, UK), every manner of Fab Four-related tchotchke is up for grabs. I pick out two — a fridge magnet for a Beatlemaniac friend Kate from high school, and another fridge magnet bearing “Penny Lane,” a famous local address, for my mother, who happens to be so first-named.
There are likely many in the world who claim to be “the” authority on The Beatles, but here at The Beatles Story is probably the greatest single repository of knowledge about the iconic foursome. I learn today that the fellas started out amid the “skiffle” craze of the half-century mark, a type of British fusion of jazz, blues and rockabilly. The Quarrymen trafficked in that sound as its membership frequently changed until the final quarter of John, Paul, George and Ringo dropped the original name in favor of the moniker that would introduce them to the world.
A cheeky exhibit informs the visitor that when the group first traveled to Hamburg, eager German club owners, anxious to capitalize on their appeal, fed the young Beatles uppers to keep them churning out performances until the final patrons left around sunrise.
The Beatles Story also features a recreation of how Liverpool’s Cavern Club looked when the lads firsts started making their wonderful noise. Artwork and exhibits also gleefully recreate The Beatles’ many, many permutations — all the more remarkable considering they were only together less than a decade — from the harmless early-’60s mop-top iteration through the shaggy psychedelic era and finally to their disbanding into four separate, but no less extraordinary, solo artists.
One rather macabre item on display is Lennon’s glasses, which reminds me somewhat eerily of seeing George Washington’s false teeth in a glass case at Mt. Vernon back home.
However, not far down the way is the “White Room,” made up to look precisely as Lennon and Yoko Ono’s New York home appeared in the “Imagine” video. In true Lennon fashion, a moniker over the top of the entire display reads “This Is Not Here.”
After a quick lunch on the waterfront, it seems appropriate to explore the rest of the Beatles’ sites in their hometown on the Magical Mystery Tour bus, a two-hour coach excursion around Liverpool to see the sights that gave rise to — and often entered into the vocabulary of — the band.
Our guide is a Liverpudlian through and through, a native who has learned as much as there is feasibly to know about his hometown’s most famous export — and punctuating his tales with song bursts of Fab Four tunes over the bus’ loudspeakers. (Remember, it is common courtesy to tip your guides at tour’s end.)
Our guide chats us up as the coach (recall this is what the English term a bus) makes its way away from the docks and then at first sojourns through some rather run-down, working-class areas of Liverpool. Here we pass by The Empress (High Park St, Liverpool L8 3UF, UK, 01244 505255), whose exterior appeared on the album sleeve of Ringo Starr’s first solo effort, 1970’s “Sentimental Journey.”
On to Penny Lane itself, which looks much like any other residential street in Liverpool, but whose name was enshrined forever thanks to John Lennon’s recollections while recording the song of the same name.
Then into an unassuming alley, differentiated from all its identical neighbors for the fact that this was where George Harrison entered the world on Feb. 25, 1943. A Liverpudlian residing across the alley comes out to chat with tourists, imparting that when she moved in, she had no idea initially as to why so many people constantly took pictures of the old home across the way.
To Strawberry Fields, where fans and devotees have left messages on the famous gate for decades. A few blocks away is the childhood home of John Lennon himself, called Mendips, where John lived with his Aunt Mimi. With Lennon having been killed in 1980, this house is now considered more historical than McCartney’s childhood home nearby, as Macca continues to both record and tour as I type. However, both homes are maintained by the National Trust, and can be toured for an extra fee.
Paul’s former residence at 20 Forthlin Road, is also where the prolific songwriter often returned to churn out about half the songs on the radio at any given hour.
Our guide also tells us how the surviving Beatles often return to town to perform — and even ponied up the cash to construct a larger venue to warehouse appreciative hometown crowds. He even shows off a photo of himself enjoying a pint with a smiling McCartney.
The Magical Mystery Tour coach then loops us back into central Liverpool, where nearly every business is somehow connected to the Fab Four, be it the Rubber Soul Beatles Bar, Sgt. Peppers tavern or the Hard Day’s Night Hotel (Central Buildings, North John Street, Liverpool, L2 6RR, UK, +44(0)151 668 0474), the interior of which bears as much memorabilia as one could feasibly, uh, imagine.
This tour can only end reasonably at one location. And so the coach deposits us in front of The Cavern Club (10 Mathew St, Liverpool L2 6RE, UK, +44 151 236 9091), where the boys first got their professional start as a working musical unit. You walk down from street level into the underbelly of Liverpool, where, in what can only reasonably described as a “divey” spot, The Quarrymen/Beatles refined their sound and their act in over 200 shows before their fellow Liverpudlians.
Remarkably, The Cavern is much as it appeared in The Beatles’ day, even though the actual footprint has been slightly revised since those glorious modish days. (The club also closed for a few decades, thus requiring much in the way of renovations.) Memorabilia of not just the Lads but also of the likes of Adele adorn the walls from their time gracing this rather atypical venue.
(You can take a virtual tour of the Cavern here.)
Across the street from The Cavern Club is the sister Cavern Pub venue, where I also duly pop in to see young musicians hoping that some of that Beatles magic dust will likewise bless their hopes and dreams.
It’s as great a spot as any to end this tour, drinking solid British suds here beneath the city where the world’s most famous music brand began its ascent from humble beginnings to not only taking over the world, but redefining what rock ’n’ roll was — or could be.
All you need is love — and a beer.
Eric Althoff is Travel Editor for The Washington Times.
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