We left Ireland on Friday via the fast ferry to Holyhead, Wales. Mom was suitably drugged up with gravol, etc., as she is the most likely to get seasick, but we had a very smooth ride. (Fortunate for us, as the next day a huge wind storm blew in.)
About 5 minutes out of port, Mom and Marg took off for the slots...something they assured me I would like once I got over 40. I assured them that this was unlikely to happen, so I read, while they gambled. They returned about 20 pounds richer. My Mom has the luck of the Irish...she paid for her vacation ticket with her winnings from a slot machine!
When we arrived in Holyhead (I love that name!), we hopped the train for Chester. It was a Friday afternoon commuter train, so we were stuffed in, but the scenery was nice as the train wound its way along the water. If it wasn't water it was sheep out the window. Once in Chester, Cynthia picked us up. Cynthia is our last relative in England on my Dad's, Mom's side (if you can follow that). She had kindly offered us her place for our stay in England and was going to drive us around the countryside...so Mom and I could revert to passengers.
Cynthia lives in a 1930s home in Childwall (pronounced chilled-well), that looks like the green room for the antiques road show. The first night she mentioned that she would be giving me a doll (called Amelia) from 1897 to bring home to Faith. It's made of kid (goat's skin...had to ask) and was all handstitched with the original underclothes. She'd taken it to the Doll Hospital (real place!) to get the doll a new dress and a new wig, but other than that, it's in fantastic shape for being 108 years old. It's going right into the cabinet when I get home...sorry Faith...this one's only for looking at.
Anyway, after the day of travelling, we were all falling asleep over the Lancashire hot pot that Cynthia made for us, so collapsed for an early night.
Saturday morning, Cynthia headed down to the Liverpool port - Albert Dock - to the Maritime Museum. The docks are completely redone, and the museum was actually a series of museums in one, including the International Slavery Museum, which was fascinating and sickening at the same time. Liverpool was a port to the New World, so much of the slave trade was supported through the city. We also saw exhibits on the Battle of Britain, and the Titanic, Lusitania and Empress of Ireland. Again, supporting my much more favourable attitude to flying from place to place than taking a boat.
I wasn't sure what to expect from Liverpool itself, but it has some very interesting Architecture, which we got to see as we drove around on a detour due to a blocked road. The wind was so bad that a couple of tarpaulin signs tied to one of the buildings had blown partly off, and were ready to tear away completely, so the police had the road cordoned off.
For lunch we ate at a Carvery -- kind of like a buffet but focused on turkey, beef, or lamb as the meats "carved" for you fresh. We sat along the Mersey River and watched out the window as a huge storm came up during lunch, and then passed over before we left. Lunch was with Cynthia's brother, James (a retired radiologist!) and her nephew Andrew who is a partner at a law firm in Tokyo. Cynthia's mother was a Doctor as well (lots of doctors in the family), and Cynthia was a teacher, so they have lots of interesting stories.
Afterwards, we headed over to Speke Hall, a tudor-style black and white house. Yet more interesting history and lots of very old, ornate, and dark wood furniture. What a dreary life. The best part was the servants' quarters where you could see the row of bells, one marking each room of the house where they may be called by the lord and lady.
On the way home, we drove past John Lennons house (a very nice middle-class home) and stopped at Strawberry Fields. Yes. Strawberry Fields.
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