retiredmartin

July 2023. Liverpool.

WARNING : CONTAINS SURGICAL PROCEDURAL DETAIL.

Tuesday morning started with Bubble and Squeak and Eggs Royale round the corner on Dale Street.

The Moose Coffee in Manchester is always packed, as was this one, as we Brits love our authentic American cuisine. Perhaps your best place to get “grits” and “potato hash”, Dave.

Only outside table at 10am, and it was actually so cold I put my fleece on. On the 25th July !

No plans today, just an amble round Albert Dock before the inevitable rain (it never arrived).

But something was starting to ache as we left the Three Graces for the Museum of Liverpool,

and my attention was elsewhere as a Japanese tourist politely asked me to identify the actual Liverbird in an ornithological display.

Well, he couldn’t have picked a better person to ask as a) as you’ll know I’m an expert on the different brand of ducks and b) I have form in making stuff up for the benefit of Japanese tourists, having confidently told them that Ironbridge “B” was a nuclear power station in 2011, possibly leading directly to its decommissioning.

Luckily Mrs RM intervened to confirm that the Liverbird is as mythical as Liverpool’s alleged 2020 Premier League title, witnessed and celebrated by NO-ONE.

The city museum is great, despite an obsession with proclaiming a superiority to Manchester that just doesn’t exist.

I love the way the new clashes with the old along the front,

but by the time we reached the Tate my swelling had become more than an irritation, and I informed Mrs RM we’d need to leave the pottery behind and seek an emergency surgical procdure.

“Chop it off” urged Mrs RM, as I typed in the search term on Google Maps,

and fifteen minutes later the smartly dressed Lancastrian gentleman in Ernest Jones had his little lathe working on my ring finger.

“Tell me when you can feel it burning” isn’t what you want to hear.

“Oooh” said Mrs RM.

“Oh” I said.

“Come back in 3 months and I can refit the ring” said our very skilled and lovely surgeon.