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Liverpool
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Late Doors
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PostPosted: Sat Jun 26, 2010 1:29 pm    Post subject:  Reply with quote

Actually that last one is Dr Duncans i texted you about, obviously you hold my text recommendations in the same regard i hold your tips?    
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Jones the Steamed
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PostPosted: Sat Jun 26, 2010 1:32 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

Quality report Dock.
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Plastic Man
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PostPosted: Sat Jun 26, 2010 1:43 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

An excellent report, Mr Dock.

However, for future reference, whenever providing any commentary on Liverpool, it is a legal requirement to at least remark on its citizens regarding their cheekiness, unique sense of humour, and their love of light-fingered japery.

Are you sure you didn't go on on the more expansive (and expensive) ferry tour up the Mersey rather the standard ferry.... across de Mersey..... sorry I got a bit distracted there.
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bearing
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PostPosted: Sat Jun 26, 2010 2:26 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

Thing I found fascinating about Liverpool is some of the streets not far from Chinatown are some of the widest I've ever seen, I'm led to believe that this was done as a show of how rich and powerful Liverpool once was (probably one of the most powerful in the World).

I'll have a butchers on google world to see if I can find some...
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Dock
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PostPosted: Wed Jul 06, 2011 3:46 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

Read this on Sunday. I suppose a few of you remember it happening. I don't, I was too young n' that.

http://www.guardian.co.uk/uk/2011...3/toxteth-liverpool-riot-30-years
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Late Doors
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PostPosted: Thu Jul 07, 2011 8:26 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

God aye yeah. Thirty years ago? Good grief. It sparked a few copy cat riots  all over the country. I remember someone sticking chewing gum on a Persil advert one Sunday night in Huddersfield during the St Georges Square uprising of 81.
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PostPosted: Thu Jul 07, 2011 9:05 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

Yes, remember the Toxteth riots...
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PostPosted: Sun Jul 10, 2011 3:27 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

But they did at least calm down. Eventually.
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PostPosted: Wed Apr 03, 2013 6:52 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

Aintree tomorrow. First day of the Grand National meeting. Me and Wirksworth Pete will be attending. 9am train from T'Leeds. He's getting the Racing Post and I have had the Timeform Guide delivered today with tomorrow's runners and riders. How can we possibly lose? Er..............
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PostPosted: Thu Feb 11, 2016 11:06 am    Post subject: Reply with quote

Hade another couple of nights in this great town again combining it with the John Grant Gig at the Philharmonic Hall. This time in the grim grey winter whilst the cold and wind lashed in from the Mersey. Chuff me no wonder they are all so bleeding hard over there. It's such a warm town though especially when you get into the snug of the many unspoilt traditional pubs around where the scousers seem to be happiest. Very friendly and chatty as well totally at odds with a certain representation of them that has permeated the national conscience somehow, hmm I wonder why  that is? Possibly the proletariat solidarity that runs through the place as brilliantly demonstrated on Saturday at the price protest at Anfield. Can you imagine that happening at Elland Road????

The city is immersed in this no Frills, down to Earth mentality. Oh there are the smart shops and restaurants galore but none of the elitism that seems to be around Manchester or even Leeds city center. There is this "no one is too big for their boots round here" culture that sits very comfortably with me. I doubt very much there will ever be a UKIP MP in the place.

Sunday  was Chinese new year so we spent the afternoon around the china town area amongst the throngs. The usual dragons and firecrackers wound around the processions and I had five steamed pork dim sum from a little stall outside a Chinese grocers shop. Beautiful intense almost perfumed pork mince in a wet slightly sticky pasta like bun in a broth almost explosive in salty savoury deliciousness.

It wasn't a day for wandering around taking in the old grandeur of the giant architectural monuments to the past that are spread around the city. A coffee in the Tate Cafe in Albert Dock led us into the gallery of the third floor where Cezanne stood side by side by some modern art daring you to make comparisons. There is no comparison between an impressionist vision of honest endeavour captured in the purifying light of the morning sun and a pile of linen stitched together or indeed a huge canvass of black that constitutes the modern impressionism. I kid you not, a pile of washing and a painting of a bin liner. You can think about it all you like, it isn't art, it's a fucking con.

There are so many magnificent pieces if art, old and new but here I am banging on about a couple of pieces of pure crap. Is that doing its job then?

A pint was required so into the White Star just around the corner from Mathew Street. Now I am going to have another moan here. Do these Pub Cos, Independent Landlords or Chains not realise there is a fucking beer revolution going on in the is country and indeed the world. A perfectly unspoilt un fussed Victorian Gem of a pub but liek so many others the blandest most mundane selection of ales ever on offer. Bombardier, Green Hall IPA, EPA, Hobgoblin, maybe Deauchars. Great pubs, shite beers, sort it out for fucks sake or the pubs will be lost. I walked in and straight out of at least Five like it during our stay. Life is too short for crap beer

Like I say though, magnificent old pub and scene of a classic scouser moment. An old guy was at on his own after his friends had left. Two Finnish lads came and sat next to him in the vacant places across from us. They gazed around at the old photos that adorned the hoary  old Victorian walls whilst the rest of the pub chatted. It was a scene of perfect pub conviviality as their gaze settled on a  picture of the Titanic. "Dats the Titanic Dat is" said the old scouser. "Ah Yes" the Finnish lad replied."It wasn't made here d'oh "replied the Scouser. "Belfast" he said whilst the Finnish lads smiled a little bemusedly and a few seconds passed. The pub seemed to descend into a hush as the Scouser then informed them "oww yeeah, we had their piano player in here last week" The Finnish Lads continued their blank gaze at him as the rest of the pub seemed to brace themselves for the inevitable. "He went down well"...............The expression on the Finnish Lads' faces froze blankly. It was as if time stopped. The Pub's chatter ceased and they contemplated what they had just heard for a moment, their faces not registering an iota of acceptance. Eventually (although in reality it was probably only half a second) the stone cold silence into which even a piece of tumbleweed would not drift into was gently pierced with a couple of nasaly chuckles as the old scouser endorsed his own... joke? "Good Dat eh? he said to them as time resumes and the pub returned to its previous state of well being.
 
The Gig was an early starter so after a quick shower and change we headed  up Renshaw Street towards the Dispensary Pub Formerly The Grapes. A proper real ale pub with great beers almost on a  par with Huddersfield Pubs. In fact they had a couple of Huddersfield Brews on. We should have stopped longer but seeing as how we were going to the Philharmonic Hall it would be rude not to go into the Philly Pub. Not a lot more anyone can add about  this immense almost caricatured homage to Victorian Art Nouveau Decor. It's just a  pity no one has told them or indeed their Pub Co Nicholson's that own so many of our country's finest pubs about this beer revolution that is going on right under their noses.

We had booked Tea at the Bistro Jacques very near the Philly for a pre theatre special. Fab restaurant, great French type food and exceptionally good value of you go for the theatre special. Not massive portions but everything perfectly and freshly cooked. The sardine fillet on a ratatouille starter in particular was sensational.

I'll do a separate Gig Report but suffice it to say  I was blown away by the majesty acoustically and visual  of this magnificent venue

Day two saw us risk a metro train ride to Crosley to see Antony Gormley's statues on the beach. I say risk, by now there was a gale force wind to add to the perishing cold  that had you stiffening up to lurch into it. We pushed through it down to the beach as the violent sea crashed onto the beach covering all the statue figures save for their little heads sticking helplessly above. Two minutes was all we could muster, Any closer and we were in danger of being swept in it was that tumultuous. Definitely down for next trip, maybe at high tide in Summer as well.

Bite of lunch in Pinch, a nice little cafe bistro thing and still the weather dampened any serious exploring. The word "shopping makes my heart sink but there is no doubt Liverpool is crammed with every outlet under the sun in various streets and malls all over the place. We jointly entered the ace John Lewis electrical and cookery section plus various high st cheaper clothes shop then split up. I was on a mission. I have about 200 quid's worth of cd vouchers from my retirement gift I am planning on filling a few gaps in my collection with. So into HMV and out with Captain Beefheart, Love, Early Drive By Truckers and Beck.

The Crown just outside Lime St Station is another beautiful pub. Ornately decorated inside with an incredible ceiling and Oak panels that match the wobbly Nouveau exterior. Again such a shame the beer is utter poop.

Bold Street was our evening destination with is multitude of nice looking bars and independently owned cafes and restaurants. Chandlers was a modern bar, ok but empty which was strange as the journey through town suggested Monday night was a big night in Liverpool especially in the many Irish Bars. The evening and indeed the two days were rounded off perfectly in Maray, a tapas type small plate place excellently cooked and  presented and elevated to lovely in that way chefs who care can do so well.

That was that, another good night's sleep in our value for money Adagio apartment and back across the Pennines home for lunch time. Terrific city, who knows one day we might tie it in with a Premier League football match one day.
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PostPosted: Thu Feb 11, 2016 5:07 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

Great report, as usual.

I'm a little embarrassed to say that I've only ever been to Liverpool to watch football.

On a similar note, the only other time (besides football) I've been to Manchester was for one of my UCCA interviews at the University (it was my fourth choice - Hull was fifth!).

Everything I think I know about both cities is probably total bobbins.

* To be fair, I don't spend much in the way of time in the Manchester we have here - and I live less than ten miles away.
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Late Doors
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PostPosted: Sat Feb 13, 2016 11:48 am    Post subject: Reply with quote

Up to a few years ago that was all i had been for but its a place i coud go to anytime now.

Oh btw

"But they did at least calm down. Eventually."

took a while to register didnt it, but very good.
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PostPosted: Sat Feb 13, 2016 4:50 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

Late Doors wrote:
Up to a few years ago that was all i had been for but its a place i coud go to anytime now.

Oh btw

"But they did at least calm down. Eventually."

took a while to register didnt it, but very good.


A slow burner.

I suspect I'm doing exactly the same thing in this country too, but I seriously regret not having done more "local" exploring back when I was in England - I've probably been to thirty or more countries on holiday over the years, but have overlooked ace places right under my nose. Eejit.

"I've been to paradise, but I've never been to me." *

* If Birmingham counts as paradise
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Plastic Man
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PostPosted: Sat Feb 13, 2016 5:54 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

Grind wrote:
If Birmingham counts as paradise


There is (or maybe now, was) an area of Birminham city centre actually called "Paradise Circus" (up by the Town Hall/ former Central Library/ School of Music).

I can only assume that the name related to what the area was called before it  succumbed to urbanisation, or perhaps Brummy irony.

From my experience of the period I lived there, I would probably have called it "A little bit shit Circus, but not too bad by contemporary standards" or "A little bit shit Circus, but markedly improved when someone chucks a bottle of washing up liquid into the fountain for a laugh".

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