Liverpool

Onward across the Mersey River to Liverpool. A port city that faces west to Ireland, and current home of my cousin, Brian. Brian is the only one of my British relatives that I knew as a child. This is us in Long Eaton in 1954.

And this is us in June 2019. We haven't changed a bit.

Glenn and I met with Brian and his partner, Isobel, and all took a walk downtown then on to the Albert dock, now gentrified with shops and restaurants.

The Royal Liver Building is the most famous landmark of downtown. It's pronounced Lye-ver, after the two Liver bird sculptures on top of the building. Brian says the story is that the female bird faces out to sea and the male bird faces to land to see if the pubs are open.

Down at the docks.

Of course, we had to go here.

Then we went down to the seashore where we saw this sculpture installation by Anthony Gormley. There are 100 of these figures, cast by the artist from his own body, and placed all along the waterfront, then left to the mercy of the elements.

The less glamorous side of travel: dirty clothes. We had to hire an Uber to take us and our laundry off to the closest laundromat and sit through a few cycles. I also managed to mail some postcards home.

(Lye-ver Laundrette. No organ washing)

It was great reconnecting again. And now on to Edinburgh.