Monday, November 09, 2015

Tramping tales for October 2015


A surprise was sprung on us by our daughter Justine with a day’s notice to pack for Liverpool

Fri 16/10

With train tickets in hand from Cleethorpes to Sheffield to Liverpool and a booking for a Travelodge; we set off in high spirits like kids playing ‘hooky’ on this unexpected adventure to immerse ourselves in ‘Beatlemania’- something we have always wanted to do but somehow never happened.

Arriving at Lime Street Station in the centre of Liverpool we found Information for a much needed tourist map. George given instructions and hotel pinpointed, we shot off one way… changed direction. Began looking like chooks that have lost their heads as we tried a new direction. Puffing up a hill and battling to find street names began the unravelling of our good humour. Seasoned travellers as ourselves – should not be confused by a map. Are these signals of aging… are we that tired? Just before the wheels came off we settled to a landmark and, fortunately before we were about to deviate, a lady sets us right and within no time we had the Travel Lodge in our sights. IF, IF, IF!

Central Travel Lodge could not have been better situated and as soon as our bags were in our room we revived and were ready to explore.  Close by, in Queen Square we spotted the billboards – Direct  from London’s West End was “Let It Be” (reliving memories of the 60’s in the city where it all began) Royal Court Theatre was covered in scaffolding and despite the renovations taking place, the show went on.  We found the ticket office and held our breath. Would there be a seat place for us that night. There was.  After a wander around town and a spot found for dinner, it was show time…


A vibrant show that brought back a host of memories from the 60’s for a predominantly grey haired audience, which soon had us all up, dancing and twisting in the aisles and singing along. What an atmosphere.

Sat 17/10

Jerry and the Pacemaker’s turn came Saturday morning with the Ferry cross the Mersey cruise while the weather held good. The commentary punctuated along the way with their iconic tune Ferry cross the Mersey blasting forth. We had our first introduction to the Three Graces (Royal Liver; Cunard; Port of Liverpool) from the ferry. These architecturally beautiful old buildings on the river front were to become familiar landmarks to us along with a noticeable striped face-brick building, just as visible, set back upon another street. This was White Star Shipping, where many Titanic relatives awaited outside for news of their loved ones in 1912.   An odd banana shaped tiger was first to catch our eye and then we noticed more of these banana shaped objects each painted differently and took a closer look, deciding they could be sheep. The Museum of Liverpool was to formally introduce these artworks dotted around the city to us as superlambananas.

 


Liverpool is a UNESCO World Heritage listed Waterfront and the city fathers certainly take care in its maintenance.

Our Beatle tour was booked for the afternoon and with time to kill we stopped in at the Maritime museum and discovered the International slavery museum. A riveting few hours followed all too fast in this amazing place; so much so that a museum official noticed George’s absorption in a visiting display on Dalit – the lowest in India’s caste system and kindly informed him of a film and talk about to take place in a side room. George found me and with no time to explain, whisked me into the room where we learned much about the caste system and the Dalit children and their parents working on brickfields as bonded labourers.  We had no idea of Liverpool’s significance during the 1800’s as a slave port during the Slave trading days and this International Slavery Museum was to draw us back time and again during our four days not only to the notorious past but to the global issue of modern slavery (human trafficking) which remains almost  as prevalent today. During one of our re-visits George returned to Broken Lives: Slavery in Modern India and found it hard to believe the function and duties of Joginis – ritual sex slaves in India, i.e. girls that become the “property” of the village, to be used and abused by any man, or trafficked to a brothel (let alone that his wife petitions against slave practise from her computer!) An Amazing Museum as a whole and we’d easily have spent a week there. Liverpool’s docklands and its huge bonded warehouses stand testament to the wealth that poured into the city, as a result of its connection within the slave trading route. This was a telling quote which we know will raise much debate depending on perspective.
 
 “Over the period of trans-Atlantic slavery Africa helped develop Western Europe in the same proportion as Western Europe helped under-develop Africa” (Walter Rodney, 1973)




We loved Liverpool’s Docklands with its wonderful sense of space, history and business. It reminded us of Cape Town’s successful Victoria Albert Waterfront development.  

Our friend Jan Slesser had recommended the Magical Mystery Tour bus and we’d only managed to get a 3p.m. booking but marking time in the Docklands had been easy. Our guide soon had us steeped back in Beatle history as he took us to the homes of  Richard Starkey (aka Ringo Starr - 10 Admiral Grove); George Harrison (12 Arnold Grove) with no bathroom, an outside toilet and kids being washed in the kitchen sink; John Lennon grew up in his aunt’s home in  Mendips; Paul McCartney (in Forthlin road where over 100 of the Lennon/McCartney songs were composed); St Peter’s Church Hall where John Lennon and Paul McCartney first met;  the schools they all attended and the  role of Brian Epstein (manager) and where he grew up…   


The graffitied filigree iron and stone gateway leading into what was, the Salvation Army Children’s home - Strawberry Fields, where in John Lennon liked spending time. This inspired the image of the Beatles hit Strawberry Fields Forever. Penny Lane was where his first home was until he moved in with his Aunt Mimi in a better suburb than his fellow Beatles.  We finally ended up at the ‘new’ Cavern Club- the original having been virtually demolished. As we pressed our way through the crowds we could only feel immense relief that we were not to stay there for the rest of the night… the crush at 5p.m. was such that it could only get worse as the evening wore on. It took more effort than it was worth to reach the bar counter for a beer, so after enjoying a few numbers from the resident band we tuned tail through the mob and got out of that cavernous crowded place.

Earlier in the day, prior to catching the ferry, we’d booked tickets at the Playhouse to see ‘Outsiders’ that night. Wandering back to the city centre we spotted a lively Tapas restaurant which drew us in. A delightful waiter managed to squeeze us in and initiated us into eating tapas style.  It was delicious and we were ravenous… After completing our choices of three dishes each we couldn’t resist piping hot paella pans being delivered to another table and ordered one to share.   We could barely finish it and looking around at what had suddenly become an empty restaurant we realised ‘theatre diners’ had all moved on and we rolled out too.  The Playhouse bar was humming with all seats taken that we edged our way round to the theatre door only to find it locked five minutes before the show was timed to begin. Bang on 7.45 the doors opened and we took our seats in the front row of a very intimate theatre, immediately drawn to a young girl busy straightening up and stacking papers on the floor in front of us. Her huge calf-like eyes apprehensively glancing around at guests taking up their seats. George immediately thought something was ‘wrong’ with her not realising the play had begun…. An excellent performance by two women had us fastened from beginning to end.  
   

Sun 18/10

Liverpool museum had very good exhibits from WW2 period in particular, a photographic exhibition of women affected by war with their stories.  There was also a floor given over to famous Liverpudlians. Not only Beatle memorabilia was there, Lea was delighted to discover many others like Billy Fury, Cilla Black all created ear-worms prompted by the recall of their songs, her head literally hummed for days and days thereafter- Oh Boy! Halfway to Paradise, You’ll never Walk Alone and more…
  
We decided on the Hop on hop off bus purely because the ferryman had pointed out the big rectangular building up on the hill as the Anglican cathedral – nothing like the Gothic or Norman architecture we’ve come to expect in England. And, during the Magical Mystery Tour the guide had also made comment of Liverpool’s Anglican cathedral and pointed out the Catholic Cathedral, more commonly known as Paddy’s Wigwam. Both imposing places totally unlike anything we’d seen before that we decided they both deserved further inspection. 

The Church of England’s Cathedral Church of Christ perched on top of St James’s Mount is the  most well placed English Cathedral bar Durham, to be seen to advantage from a distance and, the immediate vicinity. Its block like length is 189m making it the largest cathedral in the world.  Not only that, it is also one of the world’s tallest non-spired church buildings. IT certainly stood out in Liverpool.


The entrance is at one end of the monstrous block of an Anglican Cathedral


Liverpool Metropolitan Cathedral of Christ the King is a dramatic icon of Catholic faith. This modern edifice, built in 1967 is fondly known as Mersey Funnels or Paddy’s Wigwam. Inside, it had a beautiful simplicity with a cathedral choir singing from the central choir stalls, under the funnel.

We staggered into a Yates chain Pub, footsore, weary and starving to find large screens televising the   World Cup Rugby match between Australia and Scotland and we were hooked to the end and very sorry for Scotland, who lost on such a tenuous penalty. Happy to call it a night as we made the short distance to our bed.

Mon 19/10

Keen to travel the Queensway tunnel under Mersey we set off after breakfast to find out about buses and instead, discovered there was Mersey Tunnel Tour hidden behind the Three Graces. However, on arrival at their door found it only opened at midday. Reluctant to waste time we dashed up to visit the Western Approaches Combined Headquarters - the staff of which, together with help from the Canadians, played a vital role during the Battle of the Atlantic (1939 -1945) in the final defeat of the U-boat menace.  This was achieved by reinforcing the convoys of ships that came under attack by U-boats and detaching ships to hunt submarines spotted by reconnaissance aircraft. Here we were to learn about Capt. F J Walker. A man so dedicated to his job that he never let up, lived on bully beef sandwiches and died early as a result his neglect of health. Near the Ferry Terminal we had noticed a statue of what we erroneously thought a fisherman staring out across the Mersey; we now knew better and returned to pay our respects to Capt. FJ Walker, DSO and three Bars.

Capt. F J Walker, DSO and three bars (popularly as “Johnnie Walker”) sank more U-boats during the Battle of the Atlantic than any other British or Allied commander and was instrumental in the Allied victory of the Battle of the Atlantic, one of the most important campaigns of the war.

Walker became an expert in anti-submarine warfare, and was appointed to a post specializing in this field, serving on a number of capital ships. Almost put to early retirement, the Second World War broke and he received a command in October 1941, taking control of the 36th Escort Group. His first chance to test his innovative methods against the U-boat menace came in December when, escorting a group of 32 ships five U-boats were sunk, four by Walker's group. This is sometimes described as the first true Allied convoy victory in the Battle of the Atlantic. In early 1944 Walker's group displayed their efficiency against U-boats by sinking six in one patrol. One highly successful tactic employed by Walker was called the creeping attack whereby two ships would work together to keep the area saturated with depth charges and, if necessary, ramming the U –boat with his own ship! We found delight in an eccentric aspect of his charismatic nature – that of playing the tune A Hunting We Will Go over his ship's tannoy returning to base. Yet another ear worm!


Operational command centre of the Royal Navy during WW2 responsible for safety of British shipping in the Atlantic.



Statue of Frederic John Walker at the Pier Head, Liverpool. He died in July 1944 at the aged 48 from a thrombosis; his death was attributed to overwork and exhaustion. He was buried at sea.

Returning to the Mersey Tunnel Office we again found the door locked only this time, a man lugging parcels on a sack-barrow was able to help us as he used to be a tour guide with the company. He kindly phoned and ascertained the next tour would only take place Tuesday late afternoon.  Too late for us. We’d sadly lost out.

Hunger! George was very keen to have a rarebit he’d noticed on a menu down in the Docklands and he couldn’t wait to go. While he enjoyed his rarebit Lea tried a very Liverpudlian dish ‘scouse’. Just as well she hadn’t known the origin was hard ship biscuits soaked in fish water. Made us wonder why the folk from Liverpool are also known as ‘Scouse’ was nothing special, just a stew!

We roamed through Liverpool One shopping Mall with its many labelled shops and particularly enjoyed the homewares of John Lewis Departmental Store as we don’t have one nearby. It was of particular interest to George having coincidentally read an article very recently.  With such clear skies above us, we decided it was an ideal opportunity to go up the Radio City Tower. Escorted up to an outer ring of glass for 360 degree views over Liverpool and beyond. We were able to peer into the different BBC Studios through small glass windows that fronted the internal side of the narrow walkway provided while being kept amused by the comments of a young guide whose appearance, with cockatoo type hairstyle and rings in his ears, had George’s alarm bells ringing … but reluctantly agreeing by the time we left the tower that he was nevertheless very good at his job!    


Closing our cultural feast of live theatre we had booked to see Tennessee Williams – The Glass Menagerie at The Playhouse for our last night. Lea had read this as a set book somewhere back in the year dot  recalling that after years of obscurity, it was this play that had brought fame to Tennessee Williams and, closely reflected his unhappy home background. It was engrossing theatre and once again confusion arose, finding a man smilingly acknowledging the audience as they filed into seats as if he was casually watching the world pass by from front of stage.  He was our leading man. How lucky and how good for the soul to see three very different productions and thoroughly enjoy them all.  As we strolled home filled with a deep sense of pleasure for our wonderful time in Liverpool we couldn’t help but love this beautifully clean city, compact yet spacious and so easy to get about which had given us a remarkably happy time.  

Tue 20/10
Our hotel was happy to guard our luggage in reception until our mid-afternoon departure. George had earmarked The World Museum and another striking building opposite the railway station - St George’s Hall for the morning. The decision to have breakfast at the museum boasting a lovely view over the city from the top floor became the first on the list of things not going our way, when we found no one in attendance.  The café in the lobby had poor service thanks to the man behind the counter more interested in a phone call who refused to make eye contact. Definitely wrong man for the job! The museum was over-run by school children and an excited din followed them as they scampered around.  In its favour it had excellent reception to free Wifi. It had been impossible to access anywhere else, even our hotel.  

St George’s Hall was closed according to security as a Harry Potter film was being made so we mooched off to window shop in another Mall before returning to Yates for a good lunch and in particular the chocolate pudding George had enjoyed on our previous visit. Our 16.00 train to Manchester Piccadilly was busy, instead of 11minutes in hand to catch the connection to Cleethorpes we had a mighty 7 minute scramble; running the distance, hearts pounding  we shot into the first door  behind the engine (First Class) in the final seconds to find a packed train. We had booked seats at the end of the train. How to push, even squeeze through with our luggage was daunting! Fortunately a fellow traveller was prepared to press back to second class for his seat reservation and we tucked behind him. When we finally reached the last carriage through the scrum, without seeing Justine, Otto or Roo we could only think they had missed the train, after their two days in Manchester together. No seat reservation signs on any chairs – our hearts dropped and we ended up standing for almost an hour.  In time we managed seats together. Once the aisles were freed up, Roo came on a search. Such was the confusion we had all missed each other, passing through their carriage. Eventually we joined up for the last leg to Grimsby/Cleethorpes to find an excited Kiki with her Dad, waiting to take the weary travellers home.



  
Ireland

Thu 22/10

Half Term, the grandsons had two weeks to their sister’s one.  As her break came up, we ALL set off in the trusty brown van for Stranraer on the west coast of Scotland. A break in Penrith enabled us to stretch our legs with a walk to the castle ruins followed by a late lunch to get us through the rest of the night. We boarded the ferry to Belfast, with a two hour trip ahead of us to find that Justy had booked all into a ‘Quiet’ lounge and with it, came complimentary snacks and drinks. Pity we had indulged over lunch! We travelled in style and that included speedy disembarkation. 

A ten minute ride on the freeway had us through to Holywood and, amazingly, a most rural area where we arrived at the door of Drumadarragh – Nuala and Jack’s new home. A far cry from their little London house.

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‘Drumadarragh’ – with a workman’s van beside the main house. They were working on outbuildings to the right- yes! There was far more to the place.

Fri 23/10

The Stark family still had a day’s school and work to do. We left them to get on with their day and departed at a more leisurely hour for Belfast Docks to spend the day in the Titanic Museum.


  
The interactive galleries of the Titanic experience made for a splendid visit for all ages. It covered the origins of the ship building business in Belfast (including flax based sail and rope making industry); through a 70m high Arrol gantry watching bending of steel and riveting of steel plates in the Harland and Wolfe shipyard; watching the launch of Titanic (on 31 May 1911); learning about the fit-out and sea trials of the ship; the tragic sinking of the Titanic on her maiden voyage to America; listening to stories of the survivors and outcome of the inquiry into the accident; and watching the film taken in 1985 of the remains of the Titanic after it had been found on the floor of the Atlantic ocean. 


When Captain Arthur Henry Rostron aboard RMS Carpathia was told of the disaster he promptly set off to the Titanic’s last known position at maximum speed; he ordered the ship's heating and hot water cut off in order to make as much steam as possible available for the engines to cover the 91 km. They succeeded in going 3.5 knots faster than the ship's rated top speed (a speed it would never reach again in its career). It took the Carpathia four hours to reach the disaster scene. The Titanic had only stayed afloat two hours before claiming the lives of 1,523 of her passengers and crew. In the early hours of morning, Carpathia arrived on the scene and after working her way through dangerous ice fields, took on 705 survivors from Titanic's lifeboats. For their rescue work, the crew of Carpathia were awarded medals by the survivors while Captain Rostron was knighted by King George and presented with the highest award the United States could confer on him. We have a proud link to this man, as his daughter was Margaret Howman. On the occasions we lunched or stayed with our relatives, John and Margaret Howman, we’d see her father’s framed citation.  This personal connection added to our Titanic history journey. 

Sat 24/10

Split between two large vans with wind surfing kit and surf boards and five excited kids we set off for the day in the Port Stewart area where Nuala had been brought up. Always makes a difference to have a ‘local’ show you around.  First we stopped at Ireland’s only World Heritage site The Giant’s Causeway. Since we had visited in 2005 a new Visitors Centre and car park has been developed. The new building, intended to look like folds in the earth with its materials echoing those of the surrounding landscape, gave it a unique look and feel. Certainly a brave and successful attempt at balancing the building with its surrounds.


Cold with blue skies at the top of the walk, the rain was to blow in while we were all down on the Causeway. The two ‘oldies’ dashed back up the hill taking refuge in the new Centre and took  in a few  of the many exhibits. Once the Stark’s and Ramsden’s returned we all popped into the little pub opposite for a bowl of warming soup and bread.
    
Conditions were not considered right for the windsurfer on one beach further on and as we drove through Port Stewart, Nuala pointed out landmarks of her childhood particularly her school on a magnificent head overlooking the sea. Down on Port Stewart Beach the fathers and their children took to the chilly waters while the sensible stay huddled in the vehicle.  Mindful South Africa was playing Australia, we watched the clock. Since Nuala’s mother was away for a few days her Dad was in his local pub. We stopped to meet him over a pint of Guinness watching the start of the match on TV. Hard to leave a busy Irish pub with roaring fire for a two hour trip home but we did and arrived in time to see the end of the match.

Sun 25/10

Nuala and Jack’s son Ruan had been longing to do Belfast’s famous Black Taxi tour. With the arrival of the Ramsden’s this was as good a time as any, for all of us to take this tour of the city’s “trouble spots”. Under the guidance of our two guides Tom and Damian, both of whom had lived through “The Troubles” to tell the tale, the tour took the form of a two hour trip where they filled us in on the background to the last 35 years of conflict between Catholics (Republicans), Protestants (Loyalists) and the British Government’s armed forces to some of the most historically important and interesting sites. They were able to explain what happened during “The Troubles”, which we were surprised to find are yet far from over, demonstrate what the period was like to live through and took us to see some of the barricades that separate warring communities, the murals painted on walls and houses (some pretty provocative even now) and memorials commemorating IRA volunteers as well as civilians killed. All proved to be an absolute eye opener. Indeed, so intriguing it was all over far too soon.  
                
 
 It takes two hands to clap” – or so they say … but for more than a quarter of a century a bloody campaign, the Ulster war, has been fought in Northern Ireland by the Provisional Irish Republican Army to force the British government to disengage and re-unify the country. In the process over 3 000 lives have been lost; allegiances on both sides remain strongly entrenched and in certain areas gang wars, fuelled by drugs and money, have erupted to complicate matters further.  Nor did we have any idea what real rubber bullets looked like having assumed they were the size of normal bullets, not the size of small cannon shells!  And when modified by super-gluing a penny onto one end of the bullet to turn it into a hard nose variety, or the nose sawn lengthwise to turn produce a soft nose version … they are as lethal as any other. 

 Bonfire night in Belfast (photos courtesy of Tom and Damian, our guides)

We learnt bonfire night (12 July) is the most important anniversary of Protestant calendar. It marks the climax of the marching season and anniversary of the Battle of Boyne when, in 1690, the Protestant King, William of Orange defeated the Catholic King, James 2nd (his father in law!). Apparently the heat from fires of the size depicted, these being made from stacking hundreds upon hundreds of wooden pallets on top of one another, is so intense that the surrounding buildings have to be doused with water and boarded up to prevent glass from melting.

Even today bitter demarcation lines in the form of barriers and 45 ft. high walls exist between pro-Britain (Protestant) and pro-United Ireland (Catholic) communities. In certain parts of Belfast sectarian violence, discrimination, intimidation and deliberate provocation remain rife. 

 
 Nearby homes backing on to the wall have wire mesh grills to protect the back of the houses. The well-kept memorial commemorates IRA volunteers as well as civilians killed in the Clonard area.
In August 1969 the Catholic Clonard area (mentioned above) came under heavy attack by loyalist mobs. In Bombay Street alone 60% of the houses were destroyed by fire and rocks are still being hurled across the fence from one community to the other. Yet, as strange as it may seem, by day the people involved may work together and even go to the same pub together but, come nightfall, they retreat into their respective communities behind remotely closed gates and revert to their former selves!    
  


Lined up in the traditional way of searching suspects – hands against the wall and legs spread widely apart.

Mon 26/10

Otto went off surfing with Daniel and Jack. Justine and Nuala were taking Kiki, Bea, Roo and  Ruan  to the Science Museum and dropped the two of us at the famous Crumlin Road Prison. Thankfully we were squeezed on to a tour within an hour. Her Majesty’s prison in Belfast, affectionately known as “the Crum” or Europe’s Alcatraz, was built out of basalt rock in 1843. It has been out of service since 1996. Since then more than 50% of the buildings associated with the prison have been demolished to make way for the development other facilities. What remained opened as tourist attraction in 2010.

Some of the more famous inmates include the likes of Eamon de Valera (one of the leaders of the Easter Rising, elected as President of Irish Republic); Ian Paisley (anti-Catholic, anti-republic Presbyterian preacher); Martin McGuiness (IRA activist / co-leader); Michael Stone (who launched grenade attack on republicans gathered at cemetery in 1988) and Bobby Sands (the hunger striker who subsequently died in Belfast’s Maze prison).  According to our guide – “anyone who wished to become prominent in Irish politics needed to have spent at least some time in “the Crum” and reflect having done so on his / her CV”!

In spite of  the IRA having  made several attempts at blowing holes through the prison walls using car bombs in order to release political prisoners and succeeding in smuggling arms into the prison, there have been a number of successful escapes (e.g. in June 1971, when eight of the inmates known as the “Crumlin Kangaroos” simply jumped over the wall).

Children as young as nine have been imprisoned in the Crumlin gaol; unsurprisingly every precaution was taken to keep Republicans (Catholics) and Loyalists (Protestants) apart, and to prevent people from attempting to commit suicide by jumping from the upper floors heavy nets were suspended between each floor.   

Originally executions in Ireland were carried out in public view. However, in 1901 an execution chamber was built inside prison walls and the last of 17 hangings that took place in the prison, was in 1961. We were taken through the grizzly process… Until interred years later, the bodies of prisoners executed were buried inside the prison grounds in unmarked graves.

 


Tue 27/10

Crawfordsburn Country Park wasn’t far from the Stark home and that morning we all set off to for a lovely walk along the coast to Helen’s Bay. Miserable weather was setting in that it was just as well heavily pregnant Nuala had returned home with her tired son soon after setting off; this  proved to our advantage as we returned home to a delicious piping hot Jamie Oliver Sweetcorn Chowder. We all scraped the pots dry!
   
We’d been keen on driving down the notorious Falls Road and, though it was a rainy afternoon Dan was prepared to take us. We were most fortunate to have Nuala join us as our guide. Particularly as we were keen to return to some murals we had seen on the way to Crumlin Road Prison. Nuala’s BA (Hons) thesis, conducted at Leeds Metropolitan University in 1998 had been an investigative study into political murals of N Ireland so we couldn’t have been in better hands.  She also had a wonderful book on the Bomb fires of Belfast. Off we went exploring in the grey gloaming along Falls Road and Shankill Road stopping to see murals in light drizzle or peering through wet glass to look at others. On our way home Nuala took us a back route so that we could see Stormont, Northern Ireland’s parliament.  The light was fading fast but as we pulled in at gates the kindly Irish, security man allowed us to take the stately ride up the hill and return. We were impressed!

 


Last night with the Stark family, to complete our political history tour of Belfast we watched the documentary Sunday, Bloody Sunday after dinner, a tragedy that took place in Derry on 30 January 1972 when, during the course of an "illegal" march, soldiers shot dead thirteen unarmed civilians.

 Wed 28/10

We left Drumadarragh and Belfast after an early breakfast and took the freeway to Dublin; Justine had booked us on a two hour “Easter Rising” walking tour for 11a.m. Finding safe parking for the van with all the surfboard on the roof rack was impossible. We eventually resorted to putting all the sporting equipment inside and leaving it in a side street and walking to find the International Pub, where our tour started. In keeping with those times, the ‘meeting’ began in the pub basement. Within minutes we realised this historical walk was beyond the children and they departed to find lunch.

Time was of the essence as we had a ferry to catch. Arrangements had been made earlier for Dan to leave early and sort out van and meet us all on the road directly to the Dublin Port. Our Guide promised to have us two safely waiting at the right spot at the tour end. Pretty high brow historians within our group – and twice our guide told them he had to get us to a collection point. We thought he’d never escape their clutches, when we ended at Dublin Post Office ….

 

 GPO building in O’Connell Street, Dublin – site of the Easter Rising in 1916

We enjoyed winding through the streets of Dublin following the background to uprising; culminating in 1916, in the midst of WW1, in proclamation of the Irish Republic read by Patrick Pearse and his colleagues on steps of GPO building in Dublin … and the commencement of what was to become known as the Anglo-Irish War.

The last thing Britain needed at the time British troops / artillery subsequently reduced the GPO and the city centre to rubble, arrested and executed most of the ring leaders of the Rising. The action taken unwittingly bestowed martyrdom upon the “rebels”, thereby rekindling the spirit of Irish nationalism and sowing the seeds of revolution.

We arrived at the ferry port in good time and a smooth sailing to Holyhead (Wales) followed with no trimmings. We were to overnight in a Travelodge there and found a pub dinner tucked away in the little town.

Thu 29/10

We were all up in time for an 8.30 departure for Stockport and a promise of brunch. Here we were to do the Stockport Air Raid Shelter tour that had been recommended by our friend – Jan Slesser. In cold and wet weather we found  a perfect little café serving full English breakfast close to the Shelter which only opened for tours at 1p.m. – we had time to kill. Lea was determined to be front of the Half term queues we’d been warned about. Daniel would park the van outside for the hour permitted and a shopping centre kept the rest of the family happy.
   
Opened to the public as part of the town’s museum service in 1996.  We all spent an extraordinarily interesting time down a network of underground tunnels dug into sandstone beneath Stockport to protect the local inhabitants, as well as people from as far away as Manchester, during air raids. Although Stockport was not bombed until Oct 1940, preparation started in 1938. The complex of tunnels was designed to accommodate 3 850, with rudimentary first aid stations, kitchens, bunks, seats and toilets included. In 1940 /41 tunnels were extended to provide shelter for up to 6 500 people.  
 

A first-hand insight into daily life in 1940’s wartime Britain


Home James! And back to Westfield Farm we went… 

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