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
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.
.
‘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.
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 ….
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…
