The Terrible Tour Guide

So my dad and my step mom came to visit us for ten days and it was awesome. Not only because of the free baby sitting they did (which was really awesome) but more of just having that little piece of home right here in the heart of Liverpool. Over the ten days I did determine that I am a really shit tour guide but thankfully they both like to drink so that made it somewhat easier.

Here is the run down of what I would apparently show you if you came to visit me. I will assume that you like drinking because there are precious few people that I associate with that don’t. Also, this list would be somewhat longer if you enjoyed museums – which my parents didn’t – and would therefore give me some more opportunities to say, “Well, here it is. I haven’t really been in here but it always looked pretty nice from the outside.”

Moe is a Shit Tour Guide for Liverpool, Item 1: Tesco’s.

This will always be the first stop because my guests will require booze. I will not know what booze they prefer so they can pick that shit out for themselves. Actually, I always have a 6 pack of something in the fridge but we all know that won’t last. Also, I get no greater thrill than cruising around a grocery store in a foreign country. I assume that everyone is the same.

Moe is a Shit Tour Guide for Liverpool, Item 2: Southport

Southport is ironically north of Liverpool. There are some shops there and a long pier with a penny arcade at the end of it. I will assume that you are as thrilled with the penny arcade as I am, and leave you to your own devices while I rack up gigantic pennies playing a 1920’s slot machine. You’re welcome. There is also a café\bar place at the start of the pier that always has some sort of karaoke\Elvis impersonator going on. We will have a drink there and you will marvel at all the English folks who will happily sit outside in shorts and a t-shirt when it is barely 50 degrees with a freezing wind from the sea blowing in.

 He's still in disbelief.

Moe is a Shit Tour Guide for Liverpool, Item 3: Albert Dock and assorted Beatles shit

A walk to Penny Lane, check. A stop at John Lennon’s old school(s): check. A pee break at the Cavern Club: check. Quick stop at the Beatles section at the Liverpool Museum (for even non-museum types): check. HERE’S THE ALBERT DOCK! Yes, it’s pretty. Yep, full of museums. Here’s a souvenir shop – buy something! Here’s the Beatles Experience but we won’t go in because they rape you at 15 pounds per person. Want a drink? Me too! There’s the Baltic Fleet!

Let us not forget the Superlambananas!

Moe is a Shit Tour Guide for Liverpool, Item 4: Chester

How many times do I have to tell you? They have a WALL.

 My dad is looking up to see if it's still raining...as he got a massive raindrop in his eye.  Ah, England.

Moe is a Shit Tour Guide for Liverpool, Item 5: The Cathedrals, Cain’s Brewery, Chinatown and the Philharmonic Pub.

Parental Feedback: The Cathedrals – “No, yeah, that’s really pretty. The other one though, is Paddy’s Wigwam the actual name?”

Parental Feedback: Cain’s Brewery – “The raisin beer is awful. Also, the men’s toilet was broken so when I took a shit it wouldn’t flush. I had to take off the lid and fix it myself.”

It's never too early to get some training in.

Parental Feedback: Chinatown – “This is really Europe’s biggest Chinatown? This is just a street. That arch thing is nice though.”

I actually love this picture.

Parental Feedback: Philharmonic Pub - *Silence in the way of happiness via an awesome pub with great beers* Also, we got in a conversation with a couple of local Liverpudlians with thick Scouse accents. My dad has a hearing problem in general and never does well with even the slightest accent. I enjoyed watching him nod and smile inappropriately while he pulled me aside and said, “You actually understand that?”

 Notice that my body is already turning towards the pub.

Moe is a Shit Tour Guide for Liverpool, Item 6: Asda

You know, because it’s like Wal-Mart, but different.

Moe is a Shit Tour Guide for Liverpool, Item 7: The Lake District

I honestly don’t know if I’d take most visitors here but my parents enjoy nature shit and they enjoy long walks so this was kind of Their Thing. My dad enjoyed asking a myriad of questions all week but its height was in the Lake District.

“How old are those stone walls?”
“What do the markings on those sheep mean?”
“How often to sheep get sheared?”
“What’s the difference in the wool in English sheep verses, let’s say Australian sheep?”
“What’s this lake called?”
“Can I use my Kindle’s wi-fi in the car and have it still connect to your computer connection at home?”
“Why do you never see English wool advertised in England?”
“Am I the only one who wants to add an ‘I’ in all those ‘To Let’ signs?”**

You know the best thing about this picture?  I didn't take it.  I was 2 miles away having a lovely cocktail with my husband.

 Best deal in town - a jug of Pimm's for 14 quid.

Even with my bad tour guiding skills, it really was a great visit and I miss them already. My step mom made chicken enchiladas one night (I made the enchilada sauce myself to help) and there were plenty of leftovers. I actually had the last one tonight. There are piles of Goldfish crackers in my cupboard, a horde of string cheese in the fridge and all the Q-tips a girl would ever need (for the next 4 months anyhow). I’m sure my Wisconsin accent is in full swing again being around them for 10 days as well. I was actually a bit jealous of them when they left as I suddenly had these beautiful thoughts of big highways and toilets that have lots of water in the bowl. Yeah, it was honestly those two things that I thought of first.

Come back soon please.

**Because we had to look most of this up, I’ll share: 1400’s to 1700’s, type of branding, once a year, we still don’t know, Windemere, we don’t have wi-fi in the car, because it would just be ‘wool’, and finally – no, if I had a Sharpie marker on me, most would be vandalized.

"What great walls you have!"

So this past weekend Andy and I went to Chester. Andy and I were suppose to meet up with the lovely and snarky Vegemite Wife in Manchester but the VW had to go to Glasgow for work commitments at the last minute. Likely story. I’m still holding on to the idea that I smell. I’m also still holding onto the idea that she’s brought me back scones from Glasgow laced with a hearty dash of Nyquil from her stock.

Because we were planning on meeting up with the VW and therefore would be drinking heavily, we had arranged for Andy’s mum to take the Henbot overnight. Not really wanting to waste an opportunity even though our plans had changed, we still surrendered our child to 36 hours of nana time and gleefully laughed as we pulled away.

At about noon on Saturday, we caught the bus to Liverpool Central Station (train) and paid £6.45 per person round trip to Chester which is really an excellent deal. From the Chester train station, they have a free shuttle bus into town though if you’re wearing comfortable shoes it isn’t too much of a walk in. Chester is an old Roman town filled with old Tudor houses. They also have a wall. The wall is actually a BIG DEAL as it’s one of those old Roman type walls that surround the entire city in big impressive wall type fashion. Only in England would you purposefully go to a place to see a wall. In America you could say, “come to Hastings and see our wall” and everyone would respond, “come to my house and see my ceiling and floor. Dumb ass.”

First things first we had to eat. The first place we tried to eat at didn’t have any food even though they advertised food with a big sign out front. The second place we tried didn’t have any decent vegetarian options for Andy. The third place we stopped at had food and vegetarian options so we gave it a go. I ordered a chicken Caesar wrap because you know, when in inside Roman walls… Not that you give a shit what I had for lunch but I kind of wanted to get your opinion. When I got my chicken Caesar wrap it had bacon on it. As a meat eater, I couldn’t care less about the bacon. I happily munched away without a thought. When I got to the 2nd half of my wrap, I realized that I had just bitten into a whole unscaled anchovy. Now I am fully aware that Caesar dressing has anchovy paste in it. I’m cool with that. But never in my life have I ordered anything ‘Caesar’ and actually gotten a piece of fish on it. Is this normal? It didn’t mention anything about it on the menu (nor the bacon for that matter). Am I going to have to be even more Sally Albright and request “no whole fish bits” anytime I want a Caesar salad or wrap?

After slamming my pint trying to get the taste of fish bits out of my mouth, we left and walked around town. I say “walked around town” but what I mean is that we walked around until we came across a decent pub.

Chester: They have a wall.

A couple of pints later, we felt we had to do something non-drink related to tell to Andy’s mum as “drank until we puked” is not an appropriate answer to your mother-in-law’s question of, “What did you do in Chester?”

So we looked at nature-y shit.

My official picture of nature-y shit.

Me telling Andy to look impressed by the nature-y shit.

And we walked along part of the wall where we saw a very unimpressive castle.

And then we walked onto the actual racecourse that happened to be open. To clarify, there were no horse races going on that day or else I would be reporting this with a horseshoe shaped impression on my broken jaw.

By then we were bored and hot and found ourselves another pub were we played pool. I got my ass handed to me by Andy in our 4 games of pool, which I’m going to blame on the stupid balls not having any numbers or pretty rainbow colors*.

We ended the evening in Chester at some pub that I don’t remember the name of but that had a wide selection of fruity type beers. I tried Banana beer. It was remarkably good and tasted like banana flavored liquid candy. Runts candy suddenly came to mind but I’m probably dating myself a bit.

It's Exotic!

After that we took the train back to Liverpool but since we didn’t have to pick up the kid, we decided to make a stop into the Barcelona Bar. The Barcelona Bar is quickly becoming my favorite drinking spot in the city, mostly because the people there (both employees and patrons) are really friendly. We ended up having this long conversation with this Nigerian man with one leg. While I was sober enough to repress my question of whether or not he was ever going to send me that 10 million pounds his emails kept promising me, I couldn’t stop myself from asking what happened to his leg. I felt a bit disappointed when he said “car accident” and not “eaten off by lion”.

Andy's response to this photo: "But it's backwards!"  He might have been drinking.

All and all, it was a great night out. To sum up: Banana beer = good. Also, if you happen to be a wallspotter**, Chester is your place.

*To clarify that remark to my American friends, pool balls here come in two solid colors – 7 of one color (let’s say red), 7 of another color (let’s say yellow) and a black ball.


**Get it? Trainspotter - wallspotter? Ach, never mind.