I had the opportunity to study abroad in London in the spring of 2015. I spent five months walking the streets of London, visiting museums and meditating in Regent’s Park. I spent all my extra money putting myself on planes, trains, and ferries across the country and continental Europe. I went on a lot of great trips but a favorite memory was my solo trip to Liverpool. Growing up I was a big Beatles fan (still am, of course), and I wanted to spend the day learning all I could about the Fab Four up close in their hometown. I woke up before the sun to board a train to Liverpool, arriving in town at around 9 AM. I had only my phone to guide me through the city, and I stopped at a local diner to have the breakfast of champions: pancakes and a cookies and cream milkshake.
Eventually I meandered over to “The Beatles Story,” a museum on the main dock of Liverpool dedicated to the band. I remember seeing the massive line of people who hadn’t pre-ordered their tickets. I thought to myself “Pfft. Amateurs,” as I walked past them to exchange my pre-purchase ticket for access into the museum. It was a “long and winding” museum that took you through their history from their humble beginnings all the way through to John Lennon’s “Imagine” period. There were guitars, original album pressings, Yellow Submarine figures, Eleanor Rigby’s tombstone… they even recreated the club where The Beatles first started to play and gain popularity! You weren’t allowed up on the makeshift stage though, I remember wanting to get up there and pretend to be a rock star. It was very surreal to see all of that history for four of the greatest musicians. Did you know Ringo voiced the narrator on Thomas the Tank Engine + Friends? Wild!
There was a neat cafe and sitting area with Beatles lyrics all on the walls. I want to recreate that wall in my house one day. Or at least, something similar. I then boarded a bus that took me around Liverpool and showed me a few legendary Beatles locations. We saw Penny Lane (yes, THE Penny Lane), John’s childhood home, and Strawberry Fields, among other cool places. We also stopped off to go see Paul’s childhood home, where we were greeted by the caretakers of the house. They were locking up because they had just let in Mike… as in, Paul’s brother, Mike. I was. Shook. Chills!
The tour concluded at The Cavern, where the Beatles first performed. Back then, they were still the Quarrymen. They were first found by Brian Epstein in the Cavern, who signed as their manager and rocketed them into stardom within months. We could get a free postcard in exchange for the ticket from the tour. I bought my first beer in that club! I was on borrowed time by then, because I needed to catch an early evening train back to London. I listened to the band and soaked up the surreal reality of that moment, in all its glory, and downed almost all of my beer and ran outside to find the train station.
I was twenty years old, in a city I’d only been in for seven hours, half drunk off my first “pint”. I ran around for ten minutes in a blitzy blurry haze, not wanting to waste money on a cab to the train. It was less than a mile away, according to my map! I just couldn’t read the map.
Eventually I gave up and hailed a cab… I was in it for roughly two minutes. I had literally been around the corner. I was overwhelmed and it was dark, okay?!
It was a 3-pound trip but I gave the driver a fiver, forgetting that you don’t tip in England. I remember he had a smile in his voice when I said “Keep the change” and he said “Oh, thank you!”
I raced up the stairs, at 5:18, with a train leaving at 5:21 (give or take). My tipsy dumb self still turned at the top of the stairs and yelled “LIVERPOOL I LOVE YOU! GOODNIGHT!” to the city below and then sprinted to the correct train track. I got on and the train actually departed a few minutes late.
Remembering that day brings back really good memories. I had only spent a day in Liverpool but I remember really liking it, winding and rainy and all. I remember thinking “If I ever need to escape it all and hide, I’m moving to Liverpool.” So if I ever vanish without a trace, assume I’m there. I hope I can go back someday without a timeframe to keep in mind.
I didn’t remember this but I just googled it: George Michael bought John’s piano and gave it to the museum when it went on auction, because he feared it would be put in storage by a random collector. What a guy.
I will close this storytime with this incredible line from a mildly good movie: