In Liverpool with the Beatles, Part I
Last update: 1 July 1993
Copyright 1993 by saki (saki@evolution.bchs.uh.edu)
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Is it right to call Liverpool a vacation city? A travel hot-spot?
A holiday resort? 

No, I think not. In reality, it's the site of a quest, it seems fair
to say---and any Beatlemaniac worth his or her salt should consider
the advice of Katrina and The Waves (or listen to the American version
by the Bangles), who wrote a song called "Going Down to Liverpool (for
the Rest of My Life)."

Well, if it were up to me, Liverpool wouldn't be such a bad place to
stay---maybe not for the rest of my life but for a decent portion of
it. Then again, there may be a bit of bias here. Do you detect it,
perchance? Or were you going to be polite and not mention it?

I'll admit that I even gave the cab driver a moment's pause---a wonderful
fellow with a characteristic Scouse accent---when I told him I'd put
Liverpool at the top of my "must see" list. He thought I was kidding.
When he realized that I was utterly serious, he asked tentatively,
"You don't believe all those nasty stories you hear about Liverpool,
do you, love?" Whatever those nasty stories were, I assured him I didn't
believe a *word* of it. He seemed satisfied. But what did he mean?
Too many working-class heroes? Too much unemployment? Dangerous crime?

It's not really paradise, I'll admit, except to those with stars in
their eyes. Most Beatles fans have a surfeit of stars, so I'll remind
you at the outset: you're not going to see Disneyland here. Pick up a copy of
the Liverpool Echo, the daily (except Sunday) paper, and you'll read
that, miraculously, it's a city much like other cities: there were two 
"louts" who "pounced" on a nun near Lime Street; an oil rig worker who lost
his life's possessions in the back of a taxi while he "popped into a
local pub"; pleas by MPs and striking union workers to preserve 1,500
jobs; various charity stories about sick kids and overworked hospitals....

It's the self-proclaimed "*only* paper that speaks for Merseyside" and
it'll show you a side of the town that you might as well see. Remember
that Merseyside is home to 1.5 million people, some of whom, like my 
envious taxi driver, ruefully admit to never having been anywhere *but*
Liverpool. Except for a twist of fate, raw talent and the drive to succeed,
perhaps our Boys would never have made it out either.

The irony is that you can look at Liverpool today and try to imagine
it as if the Beatles had never left it. This is very recent history.
Many of the places they remember are still here. It's a shock to the
system to be able to walk along Penny Lane or touch the walls of
Strawberry Fields; to drive up to Quarry Bank Grammar School (now,
surprisingly, renamed Calderstones Community Comprehensive School...
though the headmaster, with whom I and my entourage exchanged a few
pleasantries, thought there was a movement afoot to change it back).

Just thirty-odd years ago John and Stuart were walking on the boulevard
outside Liverpool Art Institute, wandering into Ye Cracke on Rice
Street...and you can do the same today, though the clientele has
changed a tad and there's a reverent, if badly-executed, painting
of the Fabs in this humble pub. You can walk right up to Litherland
Town Hall at the north end of town and touch the stone walls; or peer over
the high fence into what used to be the Best house, where Mona Best put
together a little club for her son Pete and his musical friends back in
the late 'fifties.

But the fact is that on some level Liverpool is forever changed, if
just by the fans who come (even in the dead of winter) to pay tribute,
or just to breathe the air where their Boys once breathed, or to shop
in the several souvenir shops, or buy records in the hip establishments
on Mathew Street. And the citizens know it. Eight years ago, during my
first trip, I found the locals just a tad resentful that visitors
ignored the excellent art galleries (the Walker and the Tate), the 
famous architecture of the old churches, the culture and society that
were untouched by Beatlemania. This time, the Liverpudlians were more
friendly, encouraging; and, I think it's safe to say, more proud of their
their heritage---recent and ancient, classical and pop---than ever before.

Before you go (and you *should* go), write to the Merseyside Tourism
Board and ask for an information packet. There's a so-called "Merseyside
Welcome Centre" in the Clayton Square Shopping Center, relocated from
its former location on Lime Street, but damned if I could find it; every
single arrow pointing toward it seemed to be leading me around in
circles, and it was a cold day too, so I picked up my brochures from the
Tourist Information Centre at Albert Dock (call from the USA 011-44-51-
708-8854 or write MTB Tourist Information, Albert Dock, Liverpool L3 4AA,
England). Ask for the Pocket Guide to Merseyside, which has a list of
hotels and bed-and-breakfast establishments (a fine bargain, with a hearty
morning meal included; I recommend the Solna Hotel at Sefton Park) as well as
Beatles-related tours (if you hire a tour guide---and for your first time
it's sensible; it's about $56 for up to four people for three hours---ask
for Anne Morton; she's the best). Also covered are galleries, museums and
gardens. For transit system information, request ferry schedules, bus 
schedules (the comprehensive Liverpool Bus Map is very helpful) and guides
to the waterfront. 

When you arrive in England, you might want to consider taking the train
up from London; it's about $65 one-way from London Euston station, $95
round-trip, second class---check British Rail "Saver Return" fares
for current costs, and don't be put off by price. The fast train (i.e.
if you don't get stuck in winter weather---normally about 2-3 hours
from London) is a great way to enter the Fabs' home town. I can heartily
recommend taking the Wilburys' music with you for listening pleasure
as you whiz by the heartrendingly-beautiful English midlands (why do
you think they're called the *Traveling* Wilburys?), or, equally
appropriate, the soundtrack of "A Hard Day's Night"---you can't imagine
the thrill of listening to that first chord (whatever it is) as your
train rumbles into, or out of, Lime Street Station.

Lime Street Station is the only train station in town; you'll be confronted
with a plethora of choices for transit once you alight from your (presumably)
first class compartment. I was astonished to see an escalator leading to
the Merseyrail Underground (i.e. subway train). "Oh, you mean *Misery*rail",
my cab driver said cheerfully. "Never goes anywhere, never gets you there
on time." Buses will get you handily wherever you want to go, but you
may be disoriented when you first come to town, so take a cab. It's
reasonably cheap (especially if you're burdened with luggage) and you'll
need to relax for a few moments at your establishment before you wander
though the city. 

Before you can do much sightseeing (and it's possible to do it all
on your own, without a guide), make sure you have guide books, if you
can find them. I've recommended Ron Jones' "In the Footsteps of the
Beatles", with good maps and tour suggestions; David Bacon and Norman 
Maslov's terrific "The Beatles England" (it's a must for seeing the important
sites in Liverpool and London). Also, pop into a WH Smith store (newsstand,
stationery, etc.) for a "Liverpool AZ" (often referred to as "Liverpool
A to Zed", published by the Georgrapher's A-Z Map Co. Ltd), which is the
best street map you'll find; the London A to Zed is essential for getting
around there, as well. Streets are often tiny and wind around more than
seems possible, so expect to get lost, even with the map. Of course you
could also have the company of a real Liverpudlian, as I had for part
of my visit (more on him later), but even so you'll still get lost 
under the best of circumstances. Don't worry; there's always a pub nearby
for those moments of utter despair.

Before you get going, try to plan your tour sensibly. To see everything
(giving sufficient time to pause reverently at the best sites), I'd suggest
two days, or one-and-a-half minimum; a single day in Liverpool means you'll
have to miss out on some real hot spots, such as they are. You can do
much of this on foot, though a car or tour bus will help; Strawberry
Field [sic] and Menlove Avenue are a *long* walk from City Centre, and
if you're intent on seeing the Boys' old neighborhoods, Speke (whence
George) and Dingle (whence Ringo) are too distant to reach on foot,
unless you're a particularly enthusiastic walker.

A word to the would-be wise: the newly rennovated Albert Dock area
is pleasant but hardly the place you'll want to spend all your time.
It's being touted as the place from which all things Beatlesesque are
to be enjoyed, but that's inaccurate. It's really just a series of
large warehouses turned into shopping malls. Admittedly the Beatles
Exhibition is there---a self-proclaimed re-creation of the Cavern Club
and related exhibits---but I'll confess that I declined to go through
it, preferring to spend my L3.50 (three pounds fifty) in some deserving
record store. 

Just to the north of Albert Dock you can catch the famous Liverpool
ferries---they *do* cross the Mersey, and if the weather's nice it can
give you a stunning vantage of the waterfront. It's not as anonymous as
it used to be, nor as cheap, but you can catch the ferry at Pier Head and
cruise over to the Wirral and back again for L2.00 (two pounds).

But there's real history in this town---Beatles history---so why not
walk where the Fabs walked, and enjoy the sights properly? From Pier Head,
where the Liver Birds (pronounced Lye-ver) perch on the Royal Liver
Building, you can walk back to City Centre (via Water Street, which
becomes Dale Street, turn right at Sir Thomas Street to Whitechapel).

Whitechapel is fairly important; walk to 12/13 Whitchapel Street and
you'll behold Rumbelow's, now an appliance store but once the noble
headquarters of North End Music Stores, a.k.a. NEMS, where Brian Epstein
proudly maintained his record shop. I spent a few moments standing 
inside, looking at the merchandise, and eavesdropping on the wonderful
accents of the salesmen. Then it struck me: if in 1961 the Beatles hadn't been
playing just down the street, and if Brian had never heard of them (however
it was he *did* hear of them), would he be here today, selling stereos
and microwave ovens? It's a little sobering.

But facing Rumbelow's is a winding little street, with a McLachlan's
Sweet Shop right at the corner. Walk down it. According to Bacon and
Maslov, you're only ninety-nine steps away from the Cavern Club. Your
strides may vary, but you're within breathing distance of the Boys'
once-regular gig, and the place where, as legend has it, It All Began. 

Except that the Cavern Club, technically, isn't there anymore. It
was cleverly demolished to make way for a parking area in 1973---surely
one of the most poorly planned decisions in Liverpool history. But it
*was* at 10 Mathew Street, and you can stand there and still imagine 
it; they saved the sign, anyway, and hung it on the building next
door. 

Around 1985 the city planners allowed the construction of Cavern Walks,
a small, trendy shopping plaza. The day I was there---December 8th---
the Lord Mayor of Liverpool was about to lay a wreath at the base of a 
statue of the Fabs; Allan Williams, the Beatles first manager, was
lurking about, ready to make some sort of speech; a young man with a
guitar was singing "Nowhere Man" and "In My Life"; the statues were
covered with flowers, hand-written notes of sympathy and pictures of
John (one from his Dovedale Primary School days...and some of the
children who'd gathered for the ceremony were no older than that.)

If you're ready for a respite from your travels, you can go directly
across the street to Grapes, the pub where the Beatles used to hang
out. Apparently the fans have treated Grapes as a place for free
souvenirs (I must admit that I spirited out a brandy glass when I
was here in 1985) so the sign on the back of the door now warns of
a L50 fine for stealing glassware. Have a pint, in their memory, and
you'll soon be cheered enough to tackle the Beatles Shop, 31 Mathew
Street; arguably the best Beatles-related shop in town. Their record
selection (all legitimate) is well-stocked; they had the Macca CD
singles I was looking for. And if you're a collector, you can find
original autographs, memorabilia, and posters (some are reproductions
but they're excellent), plus the ubiquitous mugs, keychains, and
watches with the Fabs' visage plastered all over them.

Very close to Whitechapel street is Stanley Street, where Hessy's
Music Store still stands---the place the Beatles bought their
guitars in the early days. Meander back through Clayton Square
Shopping Centre towards Lime Street (where, as we all know, Maggie
May *used* to walk). There's one little gem at the base of Lime
Street Station, and it took an expert like Harold Somers, r.m.b.
regular and linguist extraordinaire (not to mention an enthusiatic
guide to his old home town) to remind me of it. There's an innocuous
tea shop---once called the Punch and Judy (that name has been
appropriated by the pub around the corner) but now just sporting a
yellow Benson & Hedges sign---where the Beatles used to wait in 
ardent hopefulness, drinking tea and eating butties or sarnies 
(i.e. sandwiches), while Brian Epstein was traveling to and from
London to secure them a record contract. It was here that Brian
inevitably gave them the bad news---no, Boys, not today; maybe
Mike Smith at Decca; someday, just hang in there....Anyway,
the tea's still good, and you might need the rest.

Walk down Lime Street and you'll come to Ranelagh Street, and a
grand Liverpool institution---the famous Adelphi Hotel. If you're
wealthy, you might well stay here instead of one of those tiny-but-
charming bed-and-breakfasts. If not, you can have a nice pub lunch,
or at least a drink. It was at the Adelphi that Brian and the Beatles
made their agreement to become partners, though the first contract they
signed was invalid, so it was said, because George was underage and
Brian forgot to sign altogether.

>From Ranelagh, turn briefly on Renshaw to Mount Street, and follow
it down to Hope Street. The Liverpool Art Institute is here, and
what an inspiring edifice. This was John and Stu's alma mater. More
importantly, you'll want to spend a few moments around the corner
in Rice Street, where Ye Cracke is located. John used to come here
with some of his art school teachers, but also met Stuart Sutcliffe
here; and I suspect the whole Art School crowd, including young
Cynthia Powell, used to congregate regularly at this spot. (There's no
visible proscription against glassware thievery here, but I'm not condoning
criminal actions, you understand.) Almost exactly opposite Rice Street 
is Falkner Street, and further down (you needn't go unless you're
curious) is the flat where Brian Epstein used to live...the same
place he magnanimously offered, free of charge, to newlyweds
John and Cynthia in 1962. And if you walk further down Hope Street
you'll come to a small street opposite the huge Church of England
cathedral, called Gambier Terrace. John and Stu shared typical
artist's digs here around 1960.

At the moment, you'll need to do some real hiking to get to the rest
of the Fabs' old stomping grounds; or take a bus or hire a car. For now,
let's pretend we've done just that, and we'll continue on shortly.
 
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saki (saki@evolution.bchs.uh.edu)