Wednesday 19th July 2017

So much today to do, and only so many hours to squeeze everything into.

It is a fine morning, bright with fluffy clouds and the low sun casting long shadows across the garden. But there is no time to stop and look, as there are cats to feed, coffee to make and breakfast to pour into bowls and pour cold milk over. Its how we eat bacon. No, just cereal.

Jools gets up, and after breakfast gets herself ready, and I even put some trousers on. At quarter past seven, she takes me into town so I can snap the progress on the St James development. I should have done this more frequently, but turns out not being orchids or churches, recording the work came low down in my priorities, so this is only the second time I took the shots in the last six months, and most of the steel frames are now up, with cladding being put up, and maybe some of it might be open by Christmas. We hope the cinema is, as being a five minute run into town for us, we could go frequently, if there was something good on.

After taking those shots, and a couple up Castle Street up to the castle, I walk to Townwall Street, and apart from a quick diversion to the promenade, walk to the Eastern Docks to collect my hire car.

It was already might war, hot in fact, and so was hoping the car had air con, but I thought even if it didn’t, I could have all windows open. In the end, Adrian tells me he has reserved a good car for me, a Mercedes A180 or something, so I shake his hand, say thanks, and go to check out the ride. It’s not in the E class, but will do, even if it didn’t have DAB radio, radio 2 would have to do.

I drive back home, park up and go for breakfast, wash up then pack my overnight case. I load the car with; the overnight case, my work bag, my small camera bag, an umbrella and a box of old iT equipment. The boot is full, and all is set.

My destination is our UK head office in Warrington, but I had ideas of a diversion later in the day, depending on how well the journey went.

I was hoping to go west and clockwise round the M25 to the M40 junction and go up that so I could watch the Red Kites flying, but that was would take ages as there had been an accident on the M25, meaning I went over the familiar way through the Dartford Tunnel, then round the northern part of the motorway all the way to the M1.

It was cool in the car, even cold, so I turn the air con off as we head north. I pass through Milton Keynes, Coventry then take the toll motorway round Birmingham and West Bromwich, stopping for lunch at its end, what with it being one and well past lunchtime, but I thought I had broken the back of the trip.

From there it was a blast up the crumbling road past Stafford, Newcastle under Lyme, Crewe to the start of the M62, and instead of turning east towards the office and the hotel, I go west. West to Liverpool.

I had been to Liverpool twice before: once in 1985 to see Norwich play at Anfield in the Cup (we lost 5-0) and the journey was through the biggest snowstorm I had seen, I can remember the bus struggling up the M62 in near whiteout conditions, trying to get onto Saddleworth Moor. A spooky enough place with six inches of snow just visible in the darkness. Second time was a flying visit to the Tate at Albert Dock, when I was visiting a friend in about 2002, 15 years ago I realise. Two hours wasn’t enough, of course, and I took no pictures,

At the end of the motorway, the main road wound through modern estates, past empty factories and rows and rows of traditional norther terraced houses. I would had paid more attention, only I was trying to follow the signs to the waterfront area, which sometimes seemed to be missing at some junctions. But I went further and further into the city, finally dropping down to the old Pier Head area and the towering Three Graces.

I find a parking house in which to leave the car, and once which would be easy to find again in a few hours. I grab the cameras and walk quickly out into the street, across which is The Liver Building, The Cunard Building and the other one. The Three Graces.

I walk over, amazed at the size of them, the closest, the Liver, is huge, with big windows, bigger doors, as though giants once lived here. Even with a half hearted fun fair between them and the water, they looked magnificent. I take shots. All the time.

I walk south, towards Albert Dock, but in the way there are some fine modern buildings, including the new Museum of Liverpool, not sure if it all works, but with the old docks reflecting the steel and glass, it mostly does.

To get to the Albert Dock, I have to walk back to the road and round a larger inner dock, as there is yet more work going on, but that opens up new vistas and more photographic opportunities.

The docks must have been magnificent when at their heyday, all well built and surrounded by sturdy warehouses and offices, now most have been converted into galleries, restaurants, pubs and more museums. It is all rather wonderful, and even with so many people about, I find quiet corners in which to lose myself.

Walking back beside the river with views over to Birkenhead, with views over half a mile of muddy slowly flowing water. And to my delight, a Mersey Ferries comes across, with head full of Gerry and the Pacemakers.

Once back at the Graces, I take a road into the city centre, looking for a place to wet my whistle. I had looked at the pop up bars beside the river, but didn’t like the lack of choice. I find an old fashioned place called The Saddle, and order a pint of summer ale, and turned out to be the worst pint I had drunk in many long year. Still, with change from three quid I wasn’t that much out of pocket.

Outside again, I find more nooks and crannies to snap before walking back to the car down some fine old alleyways.

Getting to the hotel at five in the afternoon was never going to be a good idea, but with the sat nav to guide me, it took me along the waterfront some more, then up roads lines with more terraced houses, past the new cathedral which I had really wanted to visit, but can’t do everything in a few hours. Mile after mile of houses pass by, with more identical sidestreets leading off on both sides.

I finally get to the start of the motorway, and make good progress. The sat nave says the journey would take ten more minutes, but that was a guess as the first ten minutes had taken 40. I put the radio on, and enjoy the trip back east, towards the Manchester ring road/motorway. Just before that begun, is Birchwood Park, and where both the hotel and head office are.

It is four years since I was here; the hotel has been sold, done up, and now is trying to be a gastropub, which I guess is an improvement on the atmosphere free place it was before. I check in at the bar (!) and go to my room, a disabled room (!), but spacious and with an armchair and huge TV.

I select three wifi rather than the tenner for the high speed option, I mean, how slow could it be? I had to ask, and found out it was very slow indeed. Almost too slow to use Flickr or Faceache. But I struggle on. At seven I sit down to watch the Tour highlights, only to find the TV stuck on ITV and bloody Emmerdale.

I press every button on the remote, and one of them allows me to select channel 20 and ITV4 where ten minutes had already past. But I could watch the rest of it, up and down mountain, breaks, getaways and riders blowing themselves out. Amazing stuff that after tw and a half weeks they have enough energy to be able to cycle up mountain after mountain.

Once that finished, I go down for dinner, the restaurant had been full until then, full of the be-pringled ones up in the area for the Open Golf. Be pringled men prop up the bar, and bepermed women sip iced Chardonnay sitting perched on modern sofas, trying to look comfortable. I take a table a the back of the restaurant, order asparagus soup followed by burger. You wouldn’t want me to change, would you?

And it is good, served by waitresses barely old enough to have left school, they do a great job in seeing to all the diners.

At nine I am done, full and tired. I need an hour to edit two shots and post them online thanks to the transfer rate, which must be down to old dial up speeds. I try to get back to the sign on page, but can’t, stuck with an almost unusable internet connection. Too slow even for work, so, not all bad.